「Blood Bound」: A Tale Of Truth, Memory, and Heritage (Persona/JJBA Fusion AU)
Summary: An unforgetting orphan who can't always separate 'smart' from 'smart aleck'.
A detective struggling under the weight of her parents' memory and a male-oriented career.
A chaotic puppetmaster, held in check by azure wings and prayers.
This is a story of piercing mediocrity and reaching your Potential.
Arc 1:「Trailblazers」Act 0
A pair of eyes stared blankly out of a window, watching but not seeing the rolling hills and greenery pass by.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The young man hunched over, the curve of his spine causing his black dress shirt to come slightly untucked from his jeans.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Light glinted off the silver, diamond-shaped studs in his earlobes as he shifted in his seat, stretching his boot-clad legs even as he massaged his brow.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lost in thought as he was, the silent watcher paid no heed to the gentle bumping of the train he rode.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
No, his mind was fixed firmly internally, on his frustration at failing to find what he sought.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
For the first time in a long time, research had turned up nothing.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tokyo had many libraries scattered throughout its wards, and he'd visited every one.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He'd spent hours every day scouring them for any scrap of information, after not even the Internet provided succor for him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
So now here he was.
Tap.
Riding a train.
Tap.
Going to visit a famous family of detectives.
Tap.
Sitting next to some irritating
fuck who wouldn't stop tapping his fingers!
Amber irises flashed behind a curtain of thick, shaggy black hair as Kohaku Yukimura gritted his teeth. He silently seethed in irritation at the man seated beside him. The wrinkled fuck was just
sitting there, sheep-like and oblivious to how much he was pissing Kohaku off.
Kohaku only managed to hold back his temper because he was just too damn
tired to get into an argument he couldn't just end by walking away. Between his daily ten-hour search for answers (he was
not obsessed, Matron Ayako could fuck off) and the exacting standards set by his former school, he was
spent.
'Feh. I just hope that Inaba is better than Tokyo. All those damn sycophants at Kosei High, the crowded subways...what a hassle. Eh. If that little town produced that Shirogane kid they're automatically better than our clusterfuck of a capital in my book.'
When he'd found out about the lauded 'Detective Prince' Naoto Shirogane, Kohaku couldn't help but be intrigued. To be a year his junior and already famous enough an investigator to be nationally known?
That was a curiosity, a
mystery even. And where there was a mystery, there was an opportunity to
learn.
"'Ipsa scientia potestas est.' Knowledge itself is power." These words, penned by Francis Bacon, were ones that Kohaku patterned his very life around. Though others had looked askance at him, calling him "odd", "neurotic", even "obsessed", he paid them little mind. Knowledge, and the resources that came of possessing it were of far more value to him than the judgements of strangers.
The slender boy bit his thumbnail as he thought. Surely the scion of the Shirogane family would be a kindred spirit to him; one didn't become a successful detective before the age of fifteen without having some investment in the pursuit of knowledge, right?
Tap.
Like gentle morning mist faced with an obnoxious leaf-blower, Kohaku's cautiously optimistic pondering vanished, replaced by the rapid return of the choking exhaust fumes of irritation.
Beneath the unkempt mane of black, one thin eyebrow of a matching hue twitched. Kohaku's already unusually pink face (courtesy of whichever of his parents had been Caucasian) began to redden as he gritted his teeth.
He'd actually been approaching something resembling a
good mood, a welcome change after nearly a thousand hours of searching had turned up precisely nothing (unless a cult of sun-worshiping Egyptian monks counted as
something).
But this fucking
guy!
Kohaku exhaled shakily, some dark part of him wishing the hot air passing between his canines was flame instead. Sadly lacking the ability to spontaneously transform into a dragon, Kohaku settled for taking a moment to study the man's face, committing it to memory forevermore.
Eidetic memory was
so very useful when it came to grudges, petty or otherwise. And Kohaku knew he was being petty. He just didn't care.
An unpleasant grin twitched Kohaku's lips as he plotted petty, cruel revenge for an unintentional slight.
"—Yaso-Inaba. All passengers for Yaso-Inaba station, please prepare for disembarking."
Kohaku blinked as the announcement over the intercom pulled him from his malevolent plotting. He stood, massaging the stiffness from his neck and then gathered up his suitcase. From the corner of one eye, he noticed a grey-haired boy standing and gathering luggage as well, but paid him little mind.
Almost unconsciously, Kohaku's left hand rose to his neck, reassuring himself that the familiar weight of his pendant remained secreted away beneath his shirt.
The locket was more than just keepsake or good luck charm, though both of those titles could easily apply to it. It (or rather, what it had contained) was the only clue he had regarding his birth parents.
Reassured by the token's continued presence, the now-calm youth disembarked from the train, his gaze sweeping the station and taking it all in.
Aside from a couple of worn vending machines and a few benches, the station platform was incredibly bare. A cracked concrete floor, only interrupted patches of drooping grass here and there.
It wasn't quite decrepit enough to be classified as abandoned, but it was abundantly clear that the station got little use and even less maintenance.
As he finished looking around the station, Kohaku noticed the boy from earlier chatting with a grizzled man and a small girl.
He put them from his mind for the time being; he had come all the way out here for a reason, after all, and that reason wasn't to stare at strangers.
No, Kohaku mused as he took a seat on a bench, his reasons for being here were totally unrelated to the other boy, tied up in the contents of his necklace as they were.
Kohaku had only received the locket about four months ago, when he finally managed to become emancipated. Apparently, when he'd been abandoned at the orphanage, his biological mother ad left instructions with Matron Ayako to give him the locket when he became an adult. He might not be physically an adult, but he was his own guardian, and apparently that was enough for the Matron.
When he'd first opened the locket, he'd found a folded letter and half of a small, ornate arrowhead. The letter was addressed to him, unsurprisingly, but it didn't contain much useful information (though he suspected that there was more to the letter than met the eye).
The arrowhead, on the other hand...for all his research, he couldn't find anything
remotely resembling the strange, hieroglyphic-style etchings on the ornate fragment of the shaft that remained attached. The most relevant thing he'd found in his searching was a vague reference to an "arrow for partially separating
ka and
akh" in a short passage about offshoots of Akhenaten's cult of Aten, but even that was supposition based on the fact that the etchings on the arrow resembled hieroglyphics.
Ordinarily, Kohaku would've long since discarded the arrowhead as a line of research, but something, some gut instinct or unconscious idea prevented him from doing so. Lover of knowledge or no, Kohaku had been bitten in the past for discounting his instincts, and so he persevered.
And now here he sat, awaiting the man that Masao "Peace Sign" Shirogane would send to collect him.
He'd done some research on the Shiroganes; their record was near-flawless, and most of the so-called "blemishes" on their otherwise pristine record of cases solved had taken place during the span of three years immediately prior to Naoto Shirogane setting foot on the investigative stage, so to speak.
The reason for this period of mediocrity? That was simple to answer; the senseless deaths of the famous "Crimson Bow and Arrow" wife and husband detective duo, Mikoto and Yuuto Shirogane, two of the few people Kohaku legitimately idolized.
One a legitimate genius but never content to rest on her laurels, the other born average but determined enough to drag himself up to his wife's level of skill and competence? How could he
not respect them? They were an example of the pinnacle of humanity, those who lived up to their potential, rather than squandering it by becoming nothing more than cogs in a massive, dysfunctional machine.
And though Kohaku was not the only one who thought so highly of them, there were countless criminals and rivals alike who resented them for their success. Renowned worldwide for their peerless teamwork both in the office and out in the field, one might expect them to have been killed by one of those resentful criminals, or have had a hit put on them by a member of the Yakuza.
This was not the case. The world was robbed of their talents and kindness not by the machinations of Japan's underworld, but by nothing more than the carelessness of a fool, driving home from drowning his sorrows in an ocean of
sake.
After the pair had died, it seemed as though the prestige of the Shirogane family would fade into the mists of history. That is, until one day, a few years ago, a twelve-year-old Naoto Shirogane came forward with the solution to a serial murder case that had utterly baffled detectives for months on end. This event marked the birth of the title "Detective Prince" and the return of the Shirogane family to prominence.
As the burning daystar began its plodding parade towards the horizon, Kohaku snapped from his thoughts and noticed how much time had passed. He slipped his worn phone from his pocket and flipped it open to check the time.
It was nearly six in the evening! His contact was almost an
hour late. The reason for this became immediately clear when he checked his text messages; apparently, both Masao
and his assistant Yakushiji (the man who would have come to collect him) had been called by the government with an urgent request and had to depart for the capital immediately.
Thus, he'd have to meet with Naoto, who would be busy with extracurricular activities until five thirty. Factoring in travel time, the Detective Prince should be arriving to meet with him in short order.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Kohaku rose with a weary sigh, then stretched. Today was just
determined to be one of those days, wasn't it? Well, he supposed it could be worse. After all, Naoto Shirogane was actually the person he was looking forward to meeting the
most. Someone as smart and capable as the Detective Prince would make for interesting conversation, right? Ah, well. He'd find out soon enough.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Naoto Shirogane was nervous.
The nationally famous "Detective Prince" was a dab hand at solving puzzles and mysteries, but the labyrinth of human interaction was one that the bluenette had always had difficulty navigating; now that Grandpa and Yakushiji-san had both been called away to one of their
meetings, it fell to Naoto to meet with this Kohaku and find out what he was searching for so
desperately that he'd hire the Shiroganes to help him find it, in spite of the price of their services.
Naoto had a sneaking suspicion that Grandpa had already either deduced or been told what their client's goal was, and had chosen to leave his grandchild in the dark so Naoto would have to regularly interact with someone outside the police force and a handful of librarians.
'I swear, were it not for the fact that Grandpa took Yakushiji-san with him, I'd be inclined to think his meeting was nothing more than a ruse to enact another one of his hairbrained schemes to get me to "make friends". I am perfectly
capable of choosing my own acquaintances for myself. The fact that I don't have any close acquaintances at this time is simply a result of the differences between my goals and viewpoints and those of others my age.' Thin fingers rose to pinch the bridge of an equally thin nose.
'Well, that and because becoming familiar with people could very well put my secret at risk.'
Naoto sighed, looking at her reflection in a nearby window. A small, thin form clad in a high collared dark blue suit stared back. She tugged down the azure cap covering her head, and sighed wistfully.
For a moment, she imagined her reflection wavering, becoming the older, strong, confident,
male detective that she wished she was, that she tried to pretend to
be.
Indeed, the world knew it not, but their beloved "Detective Prince" was, in fact, female.
Her decision to conceal her gender was born of a few factors, but the largest reason was simple: in Japan, a male detective would be more easily accepted and more quickly respected than a female one.
Of course, this wasn't to say that there weren't
any well respected women in her line of work; her mother had been a prime example of this. She hadn't always worked with a partner, after all.
Not many people remembered, but her Grandpa had told her stories of the time before Mikoto Shirogane had been the "Bow" of the "Crimson Bow and Arrow", of the beginning of her mother's career and her solo work as the "White Ideal" of Japan's justice. Of course, so iconic was her parents' teamwork that few, if any, remembered the time before Mikoto Shirogane had partnered with Yuuto Hanami.
The point remained, however, that Naoto would be taken less seriously than she was now if the people she worked with knew she was female, especially since they already didn't take her that seriously because of her age.
Thus, she practiced deepening her voice, tightly wrapped herself in a
sarashi, and began presenting herself as a male to the public. Since she'd never been particularly attached to frills or dresses, dressing like a boy wasn't much of a change from her normal attire.
When she'd come to Grandpa and Yakushiji-san with her decision, they had supported her, though she saw something pained in Grandpa's eyes. Since that day, their interactions had become ever so slightly stiffer.
As Naoto walked at a brisk pace towards the station, her mind was laser-focused on thoughts of her Grandpa, and a hope that their relationship would return to normal.
So focused was she, in fact, that she walked right by the young man she had come to the station to meet, the sound of his voice calling out to her failing to even register.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Kohaku's face flushed in embarrassment as the person he'd called out to paid him no mind whatsoever. Had he
really just called out to a perfect stranger, mistaking them for another person entirely?
Him of all people, with his eidetic memory?
No, no. That guy
was Naoto Shirogane, he was
sure. A small amount of pink still on his cheeks, Kohaku called out to the young man once more, standing as he did so.
"Shirogane-san! Is that you?"
This time, the slender youth stopped in his tracks, then turned to look over and up at Kohaku. Once more the half-Caucasian was reminded of his remarkable height (remarkable for a Japanese person, at least), yet one more thing that had almost always caused him to stick out like a sore thumb.
The young Shirogane seemed to abruptly realize what had happened, and his face flushed lightly in embarrassment as well. With quick, precise steps he approached Kohaku, then bowed a greeting, which Kohaku reflexively returned.
"My apologies. I was lost in thought and rudely ignored you. As you correctly surmised, I am indeed Naoto Shirogane," Naoto said, fidgeting with the bill of his blue cap as his gaze darted from Kohaku's eyes to one side or another.
Absently noting how pleasing to the ear Naoto Shirogane's voice was, Kohaku replied, "A pleasure, Shirogane-san. My name is Kohaku Yukimura, the client Masao-sama sent you to meet."
After briefly stooping to take his luggage in hand, Kohaku straightened, then took a moment to really
look at the Detective Prince. Naoto's youth was plain to see in the softness of his face and the slimness of his limbs. Even so, the carefully cultivated air of professionalism and seriousness surrounding the blue-clad youth showed quite clearly how seriously he took being a detective.
'If my impressions are accurate, I think that the two of us will get along rather well, ' Kohaku concluded, Naoto Shirogane's face and form now committed to memory.
As he realized he'd been staring, Kohaku coughed into his fist, eyes shifting sideways and cheeks reddening. "A-anyways, Shirogane-san," Kohaku said, "Is there someplace you'd prefer to discuss my case? While I doubt confidentiality is necessary, I also doubt that you want to talk
here of all places." He waved a hand vaguely at the station.
Naoto chuckled lightly and nodded, then gesturing to a paved path to one side of the station. "Indeed. If we make haste, we should be able to make the next bus from the shopping district. From there, it's only a few minutes ride and then a short walk to the estate."
"Sounds good to me," replied Kohaku, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm in your care, Shirogane-san."
-x-x-x-
The duo's trip through the shopping district was an uneventful one, though Kohaku made a mental note to visit both the bookstore and the adjacent metalworks at a later date. His reasons for wanting to visit the former were both practical and for leisure; as enjoyable as learning could be, digging one's metaphorical teeth into a good story could be its own reward.
As to the latter? Kohaku, having been brought up in crowded, modern Tokyo, had never visited a genuine metalworks before. And from the intensely focused look that he'd seen in the grizzled smith's eyes? This was a person who took his craft
very seriously, and Kohaku couldn't help but respect that.
After he'd oriented himself with regards to the two shops, Kohaku followed Naoto to the bus stop. True to the youthful detective's words, it was mere moments after they arrived that the bus followed suit.
The bus itself was fairly empty; the only other passengers were a lanky, brown-haired boy in an unfamiliar school uniform and a girl with similarly colored hair clad in an open green jacket over what looked to be the female Yasogami uniform.
The boy was utterly occupied in listening to music, a pair of blue earbuds trailing from his ears to a side pocket. The girl, on the other hand, gave Naoto a perfunctory nod reserved for strangers who recognized one another by appearance. As her gaze passed over Kohaku, her eyes glinted with what was either curiosity or a particularly unusual case of astigmatism. The tall youth sighed; he was used to stares because of his height and complexion, but to compound that with being a stranger in a town like this one?
He
really hoped he wouldn't end up the center of gossip or rumors. That'd be
such a pain in the ass.
The air in the bus was stuffy, so when Kohaku passed both of the other passengers, he caught the distinct scent of
dog, though he couldn't tell who it was coming from. Kohaku's nose twitched; thankfully, the scent was neither particularly strong nor was it especially odious.
Moving down the aisle past the two other passengers, Kohaku took a seat about two-thirds of the way from the back, Naoto following suit in the adjacent seat. As the bus pulled out from the stop and he settled into his seat, his guide spoke up. "The stop we'll be waiting for is the one for the Amagi Inn. The Shirogane estate is a few minutes walk from there, and after we part ways, you can handle your accommodations there, should it suit you."
Kohaku nodded. "It was actually my first choice; between the overwhelmingly positive reviews and the fairly reasonable rates, it seems like a good pick."
Out of the corner of his eye, the slender youth noticed that the girl in green had turned her head slightly to listen to their conversation. Upon glancing over and meeting her eyes, she froze, like the proverbial child with their hand in the cookie jar. The brunette's cheeks reddened as she pointedly looked away from Kohaku, whose lips twitched in mild amusement at the eavesdropper's discomfort.
The detective's hand moved up to adjust his hat absently as he replied, "Indeed, I can vouch for them as well. As long as you treat them with decency, the staff are some of the friendliest I've met." Naoto's hand, having released his hat, ran through his hair. "That said, those who mistreat the staff,
particularly the Amagis, are in for a
thoroughly unpleasant stay in Inaba. A town as small as this one is quite insular, and as much as gossip may fly about, most of the residents are
fiercely protective of one another." At this, Naoto fixed Kohaku with a measuring stare. "
Particularly when it comes to outsiders."
"I'll keep that in mind," Kohaku assured the bluenette, a thoughtful grimace on his face. "However…" He paused for a moment, considering how to word his question. "From the way you were speaking, you don't consider yourself a part of Inaba's community, do you?"
As he spoke, Kohaku absently noticed the girl in the green sweater stiffen at his words. However, most of his attention was on the young detective he'd just addressed.
Naoto had tugged his hat down so that the brim left his eyes in shadow. After a moment's silence, he replied, his voice sotto voce. "Very perceptive of you, Yukimura-san. However, I'm not comfortable speaking on this topic further. I hope you understand."
Kohaku winced. "Of course. I apologize; I should've known better than to ask a personal question like that."
Naoto looked over to the amber-eyed boy, his lips pulled into a thin smile. "I accept your apology. No harm was intended by your inquiry, nor can
I, of all people, condemn curiosity. I–"
Whatever the detective had been about to say was abruptly cut off as a voice blared from a speaker near the front of the bus.
"Next stop, Amagi Inn. I repeat, next stop, Amagi Inn."
Naoto's mouth snapped shut. "Nevermind. This is our stop." Kohaku nodded and reached down to take his suitcase in hand once more. As the bus rolled into the stop, all four of the passengers disembarked. The boy and girl headed directly into the Amagi Inn, while Naoto gestured for Kohaku to follow him.
They walked past the Inn, the scent of flowers on the cusp of blooming tickling Kohaku's nose and making him rub it irritably. With how rural Inaba was, he anticipated a particularly unpleasant allergy season.
As they walked, the silence between them that had previously seemed amicable felt a bit strained, at least to Kohaku. Unfortunately, small talk and pointless chit-chat were something that Kohaku was unskilled at, and not just because he thought it an unnecessary expenditure of energy nine times in ten.
Thus, the duo proceeded to the Shirogane estate in awkward silence, neither of the two knowing quite what to say. Once they reached the mansion, Naoto seemed to relax, perhaps drawing confidence from the fact that they were in a place familiar and comfortable to the young detective.
After leaving his shoes in the antechamber, Kohaku followed Naoto into the den. It was sparsely decorated, with a few plush chairs and a couch arrayed around a central table. A few bookshelves lined the walls, the sturdy wood nonetheless seeming to bend underneath the weight of countless thick tomes. Naoto waved him over to the couch, before taking a seat opposite him. The detective leaned forward over the table, tenting his hands before him, then spoke.
"So, Yukimura-san. Grandpa—er, that is, my grandfather—neglected to inform me of the details of your case. Shall we begin with that?"
In lieu of a response, Kohaku opened his suitcase with a
click, withdrew a manila folder filled with the notes and conjectures he'd been able to make, and slid it across the table to Naoto.
With a quiet and serious tone, Kohaku began to speak. "I don't know who my parents are. I don't know if they are alive or dead." He reached into the collar of his shirt and withdrew his pendant, looking down at it with all the intensity of a wildfire. "All I know is that my mother left me this locket, which contained a letter and some sort of antique arrowhead. I've done what I can with the resources available to me, and turned up next to nothing. Your family is the best in the country, possibly the world. I have every confidence in you and your grandfather's capabilities."
Kohaku looked up from his necklace, revealing amber orbs that glinted with unshed tears of frustration. "Please, Shirogane-san. I
need to know. Find out who my parents are."
With an earnest plea like that, what other answer could Naoto Shirogane give but yes?
-x-x-x-x-x-
In the void betwixt realities, the primordial nothingness that existed before Creation, a blue butterfly played an uneven game of cards with an amorphous, writhing shadow. At every turn, the shadow seemed to be set to win, only for the butterfly to shift the game slightly in his favor. At this rate, he was only prolonging the inevitable, and both knew this.
However.
Neither the butterfly nor the shadow knew that someone or some
thing had slipped an Ace into the butterfly's sleeve, to add its aid to the Joker he already held. Nor did either of them know of the machinations that threatened to flip over their table and supplant them both.
Perhaps, though...perhaps that ignorance was only fitting. For as the Sea of Souls must take care of its own, so too must the force of 'Gravity' draw its proponents in...
whether they knew it or not.
AN: Well. I haven't updated Luna Contritum in a while, and this little number is part of the reason why. (Fear not, however. The next chapter is in the works.) I couldn't seem to get the idea out of my head, so I went ahead and wrote it. As always, many thanks to Teninshigen and PADGTenno for betaing, to Magery for his advice, and to TheLonelyWillow for her exemplary work on the cover art. I hope you all enjoy!