INHERITED.

hello everyone, i’m afraid i’ll be dropping mitsuru as a muse. i’ve been having a lot of trouble writing her replies and getting the motivation to come on here, and i think it’ll be best for me to focus on one muse that i really love that comes easily to me, rather than two muses that i’m not giving equal attention to. i also  have schoolwork to focus on, and i wouldn’t want to hoard this spot from someone who will have more fun as her!

Stars are not so easily earned. A monthly allowance can only stretch so far, leaving luxuries to be scarcely bought compared to necessities. Yusuke had never been good at saving or spending money. He had no grasp on what was deemed a necessity and what could be considered a luxury. Because of it, there are many things he had to go without, things that he needed. Little Tokyo was nothing but a trap, it seemed as though the shops were mocking him with their colorful displays and highlighted items. Art supplies, something that he had gone without for a long while now seemed as though they were being dangled in front of him. Rows of different pencils, paints, and sketchbooks line the window display of the shop he looks into. It’s depressing, looking at something that you can’t afford.

“Money is the root of all sadness…” He mumbles to himself, just audible enough for the young lady beside him to hear. He doesn’t bother to look at her, just keeps his sad gaze fixed to the display. It’s pitiful, but he feels no shame. “An artist with no canvas can ever hope to be whole.” Finally, he looks at her. “You understand, don’t you?”

Well, this is a tad awkward. Despite not being one to flaunt her wealth, Mitsuru has never had to go without; as she’s been used to her family’s fortune and multiple maids taking care of her, her first month in Spirale was a bit tight, yes, but she’s also never been one to spend on frivolous things -- and now that she’s regained a bit of it, she feels much more comfortable in the city. However, most do not seem to be as lucky, and while she certainly isn’t one to give away handouts, she does want to help whenever she can -- especially if her aid could lead to further conversation with this probable Persona-user.

“You’ve entered the castle of the Queen of Ice and Snow. For what reason do you risk your life, human.” It was a lot of condescension coming from a woman holed up in a tiny beach shack that she’d frozen over with her Territory Creation, to call it a ‘castle’. Truthfully she’d been hiding from the heat and, caught, she’d thought to put up barbs.

Was it because her curiosity had been sparked by the presence of another who could wield ice, or because the sight of a frozen shack on a warm beach was enough to make any sensible person freeze in their tracks? Either way Mitsuru can’t help herself; she approaches the makeshift castle, intrigued by the regal woman who sits inside. She had often been referred to as an ‘ice queen’ herself back in Gekkoukan, but this took the epithet to an entirely new level...

Oh man, he really does sound crazy. He immediately feels the urge to derail, make excuses, and just bail. But if she really is being haunted, she has a right to know, right? Right. 

Besides, if she was here long enough, she should know that there’s at least some weird shit going on. There’s reason enough for her to believe you. 

“Uh, I mean.” He swallows, trying to find the right words before pushing on. “S’just. Okay, don’t freak out or nothing. But you got something following you? I, uh. Kind of have a sense for this stuff, and I’ve seen this some sort of  mecha lady hovering you.”

Oh, yeah, perfect. Nailed it! She’ll totally believe you, now!

...A mecha lady?

It takes Mitsuru a moment to realize that this boy is speaking about her Persona; though she isn’t sure Penthesilea would best be described as a “mecha lady,” she supposes she can see a resemblance, clad in armor and wielding a sword. However, how was he able to sense her to begin with? Using her own abilities, she doesn’t sense any of the Potential from him -- so then, he must have some sort of sensory abilities of his own, not belonging to a Persona. Before she would have doubted such things, but now that she’s spent some time in Spirale nothing surprises her...

Mitsuru had been heading into Little Tokyo just to get a peek of the sights and sounds of a place similar to her home yet different all the same, but what she finds instead is a boy -- a very dejected looking boy, staring into a store window with his head lowered slightly, almost reminiscent of Koromaru whenever he whined. It’s a sad sight indeed, and though she was initially planning on just passing him by a huge wave of familiarity washes over her and stops her in her tracks -- this isn’t just any ordinary dejected boy, but a Persona-user at that. 

     With Minako’s own marshmallows burned to be incredibly crispy, she works alongside Mitsuru to make their s’mores. As usual, Mitsuru’s is nearly flawless, picture worthy if the brunette could say so. In her own red eyes, she feels her senpai is enjoying herself with something so simple, casual, everyday. And for just a moment, she’s lost in an idyllic daydream of being like this forever with Mitsuru, worry free with the events of their last year behind them. Snapping from her idealized world, she is back to reality. Watching her finally taste their creations, she’s overly pleased with it! The junior notes to herself that she’ll have to make these on a stove top sometimes with her, just to get a glimpse back to this shared moment.

     There’s no lying in how cute she is. Graceful even with such an informal snack, she compliments the food as if there was a grand chef behind it all. “Yeah, you’ve been missing out on it! I’m happy to show you, but… there’s something… there…” The chocolate on her lips catches her gaze, and for a moment no fear is within her, having already finished hers in just mere moments, she leans toward the other girl, eyes narrowed and intended to ‘take care of’ the mess the other girl made.

     Chickening out last moment, she backs away quickly. “I mean, there’s probably a napkin somewhere in my bag! Hang on!” Turning to her side to dig around in her cross-body purse, she’s sure her cheeks are as red as her senior’s hair, hoping by the time she finds said napkin  she’ll be calm. “There! That… should be helpful.” Exhaling as if releasing all the embarrassment, she extends a handful of disposable tissues her way, as if an apology in and of itself for her completely awkward and totally horrible attempt at making a move. Maybe next time, she thinks to herself. “Anyway! I’m glad you like them so much, I’m glad to be hanging out like this… Oh!  We can make s’more of them if you want!”

The peaceful -- yet charged, for a moment there had been something almost electrical there, and now it’s vanished -- moment is shattered by the revelation that Mitsuru has made a bit of a mess of things; she hadn’t even realized that she had something on her face, though it makes sense with how messy the s’mores are. Still, it’s rather embarrassing, and she begins to blush; perhaps this is aggravated by Minako’s flailing around, flustered over seemingly nothing. Mitsuru doesn’t even have time to ponder why the brunette had leaned in so closely, looked at her so intently -- a bunch of napkins are thrust in front of her and she takes them, dabbing at her lips with only one (it’d be wasteful otherwise). Ah, so it had been chocolate...

♔ The brunette couldn’t help but frown at that reply and the follow-up didn’t help at all to keep her mind clear. That’s where she recognized her from, a strong relief came accompanying the revelation. The head of one of the most known financial conglomerates of Japan, Kirijo Mitsuru, and also the subject of an interview and some news she read some time ago back at home. Yet… she seemed rather young from what she remembered. Was she teared off from their world at a diferent epoch? Makoto couldn’t help but wonder a bit about it, suddenly finding herself fixating her sight elsewhere and resting her right hand over her chin. 

Every bit of information came as a shock but extremely curious as well.  ❝ The metaverse is a manifestation of the human psyche, some sort of collective uncounsciousness and a home to shadows. I assume that if you’re a Persona-user you have encountered shadows before, am I correct? ❞ Both reddish hues focused back at the figure standing in front, now showing not mistrust but rather curiosity.

What Makoto describes is both baffling and intriguing; so while she is indeed a Persona-user who had fought Shadows before, she had done so in a very different way. How curious...the Kirijo Group’s research had never come across a metaverse or collective unconscious, and quite frankly Mitsuru is glad -- she can only imagine what her delusional, death-crazed grandfather would have done if he had had this knowledge. Perhaps the Fall would have happened after all -- but it was best not to think of that.

     Her relief is immediate. Mitsuru was not lost for long on her own, and that alone is reassuring. However, she jests about repeating a year, thus making her in the same grade as Minako, a terrifying idea. “No way! You’d test well enough for college, and… I don’t know if I could compete against you in my own class, so don’t go repeating third year!” While her tone is joking, she’s serious in the same line; surely, if Mitsuru was her classmate, not only would she have someone driving her harder, but she would be second, and it pained Minako just to imagine it.

     “Well, I must say, if whoever is keeping us here will let us, you should move in with me! I don’t really know my roommates, but they haven’t been a bother or anything, so I’m sure it’s better than what you’re working with.”

     Her demeanor changes at the flip of a coin - rather, at the mention of food from home; nothing like a beef bowl for the soul! “Food from home? I’m SO in. Tell me they’ll have beef bowls - we tried those together before, didn’t we? There’s no time to waste anymore, let’s go!” Beginning to tug at the hand of the redhead, empty stomach in charge, she realizes… she has no idea what this Star Trail is, or how to get there to begin with. Halting, Minako reevaluates the scenario. “Um… I hate to ask, but where is this place anyway?”

Moving in with Minako? It would be just like old times again...old times that were only a few weeks ago, really. Though Mitsuru’s hesitant to show enthusiasm -- she isn’t even sure if moving is possible -- it is something nice to possibly look forward to; while she does love Cotes Ward her roommate is a bit too unnerving for her tastes, and she hasn’t been able to meet her other ones yet. Plus, it would just be...simpler, living with another girl, let alone one she liked. “I’d like that,” she finally settles on saying, a smile passing across her lips. “I’ve only met one of mine, and he’s...interesting.”

♔ The priestess wasn’t able to shake off the thought of having seen her before and the mention of her surname made it even harder. Sooner or later, the answer would probably come afloat in the turbulence of her head. As of the present, she judged better to just minimize as much as possible. 

Under normal circumstances, Mako would have suggested to quietly chat while she also focused on her job but every consideration about that was suddenly thrown at the furthest place of her brain. ❝  Makoto Niijima. Nice to meet you, Miss Kirijo. ❞   Her politeness came naturally, not only out of japanese etiquette but also as an integral part of her personality. 

The few movements her body made before speaking again served to purpose of adopting a more natural and comfortable posture to talk. Her back straightened a bit as she stared at the other party’s eyes. The younger Niijima sister would probably have thought of something wittier to say but she wasn’t Akira in any way so what her mouth ended up producing was what first came to her. 

❝ Who exactly are you? I don’t remember seeing your face in the metaverse. ❞

Curiouser and curiouser. Mitsuru still has no idea who this girl is even after hearing her name, but she makes a note of it nonetheless; it’s clearly Japanese in origin, so she has to wonder if they come from the same world after all -- that is, until she hears her utter the word metaverse. Completely foreign, it’s a concept (or place?) she knows nothing of -- not even with all the research her family had done into Personas and Shadows. Either it was the world Makoto came from, or perhaps...the place she had fought Shadows in? SEES had done so in Tartarus during the Dark Hour, after all, in a space separate from reality...

♔ Makoto’s feet suddenly halted as her brain realized that sentence wasn’t just a random murmur and was actually adressed to her. A shiver traveled throughout her body as she turned around to see the source of that voice.

Of all the things she could hear in her job, of all every and each possibility lunging there to happen, how improbable was that? Several, no, hundreds, thousands, uncountable questions rushed through her head, trying to make some kind of sense out of that question. Her eyes, wide-opened, partly on absolute surprise, partly on alert, stared at the feminine figure before her. Her silhouette seemed familiar but distantly, perhaps the priestess saw her sometime somewhere? Not personally but she felt it was on a magazine. 

What indeed was closely familiar was that presence, she didn’t ask that out of the blue, the other party was clearly another persona-user; Anat was letting her feel it. But… how? Makoto had personas tightly related to the metaverse and she would remember someone related to that instantly. Who was this person?

Strongly trying to stay calm and composed, her features seemed to relax as she prepared to reply. If she wanted some clear answers, she would need to keep herself clear minded. Her grasp on the cart’s handle remained firm as she proceeded to speak ❝ I.. am. Excuse me but, who are you? ❞  

As she waits for the girl’s reply, Mitsuru notes her hesitance and wonders if she is in a similar situation; as she had never heard of Persona-users outside of SEES and Strega, she wonders if this girl had been from a rather isolated group as well; after all, those with the Potential seemed to gather together, like moths drawn to a flame -- or rather, to Shadows. However, that being said...she hopes that this girl hadn’t been put through the trials and tribulations that she and the rest of SEES had been through; while she can’t deny that carrying the burden of the world on her shoulders had certainly -- as some would say -- built character, she wouldn’t wish something like that on anyone. Yes, it would be nice to hear about a world where Persona-users weren’t automatically associated with some sort of trauma...

The unfamiliar sense of plastic homeliness felt wrapped tight around Cotes Ward in particular. Obviously. No place in the quartered city seemed to mimic Japan quite like it, though these things are just designed to elicit a type of welcome to them and crush the fear of the unknown, Ryoji could tell that much. Each time he steps between the houses and catches an eyeful of that eternal cherry blossom park lining the corners of this bottled city, he feels it too. The September air really never was that warm or welcoming, freezing against the soft petals as they fell through it onto the ground. Again and again, all year round. The sleek library peaking its head over the tops of these pink trees did little to ease this feeling either, almost looming over him in the park like a shadow approaching in the dark.

But what can be done about that? The morning sun was so kind to him, and the trees seemed to stretch their arms out further while he stood beneath them, reaching his own hand out to stroke the knot of the branches before they splayed out into the cold, open air. Funny, someone seems to have tied a green stray tanzaku under the flowers too.

Enough of this, though, he could see a figure approaching from not too far away; somewhere close to where the cobbled pathway lined the grassy park, and little wooden benches dotted along the joint, just outside the metro branch. A familiar face, not really ‘approaching’ him per say, but definitely playing the role of being the only other person out here. Someone easy enough for him to recognise from a million miles away too, though the distance wasn’t being so kind to him as he might have hoped, and she always had a way of drawing attention towards her without really trying.

So away from the tree he looks over to where Mitsuru stood, perhaps freshly emerged from the library or wherever it is she appeared from. Hard to talk about predictability here, shivering under the blooming cherry blossom tree. “Nice, isn’t it?” he smiles, eventually pulling his hand  from the branches back to his side, pushing it out of sight into his own pocket. “Almost like we’re in a dream,” he calls out, turning to find wherever she’d been standing.  “A little long for my tastes, I’ve realised! Ahaha.”

While most would have thought that the glitz and glamour of Golden Ward would have suited a distinguished young woman like Mitsuru best, she was quite happy to be housed in Cotes; while her roommates were a bit strange, especially considering she had only met one of them during her time here, she enjoyed the peacefulness of her surroundings -- she often went on walks through the park whenever she wasn’t in the library or window shopping. Obviously modeled off of Japan, or at least a place quite similar to it, she felt a little less homesick whenever she caught sight of the eternally blooming cherry blossom trees; of course, considering how industrialized Iwatodai and Tatsumi Port Island were she hadn’t seen quite such scenery before -- the koi ponds and bamboo forests were a sight to behold, something she had mostly read about or seen on television. 

As today is a lovely day, just like all the others -- she did like the eternal blossoms, but in a way they could be a bit uncanny -- she decides to take a book with her to the park, taking a break from her intensive research by dipping her toes into one of her favorite classical novels. For a moment her mind is elsewhere, perhaps looking for the perfect spot to sit, when she comes to a standstill; her mind takes a moment to catch up to her feet, and once it does, her eyes widen. There’s a figure standing by one of the trees, tall, dark, handsome. A figure that...should not be there, no, he couldn’t be there. If that was who she truly thought it was -- he couldn’t be there...could he? Then again, she remembers the young girl who she spoke to after arriving -- she had come to Spirale after passing away, so perhaps it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary.

Still...Mitsuru isn’t sure what to do. She didn’t know him like Minako and Minato had, or any of the underclassmen; they had spoken what -- once? twice? -- though she’ll never forget...that. The memory of the ‘execution’ was one she couldn’t forget, and a heavy dose of dissonance was injected into it -- for no matter who or what he might have been, might be, the harbinger of death was still...just a teenage boy. A flirtatious, melancholy one, at that -- and beyond Akihiko and Aragaki, she had never been skilled at dealing with teenage boys, nor did she ever plan to be. 

♔ Her index finger pushed gently that book back to the place it belonged to until the shelves’ inner wall stopped any kind of further movement. Less than half a dozen rested on her cart, she had been arranging books during most of the morning. Lately, this has been the most exciting thing her current job had to offer. 

Yet her eyes didn’t show any kind of boredom, far from it, they seemed lost in the sea of titles, wondering which ones would be of use. The Metro Library seemed limitless and she picked this position not only for the money but for the knowledge as well.

The sound of heels clicking on the floor as she stepped off the mobile ladder  disturbed the almost absolute silence reigning in that section of the building. Makoto wanted to get that task done as fast as possible so she could have her lunch. 

Calmly grabbing the cart, the priestess made herself ready for the final trips. Little did she know that a fortuitous encounter was awaiting for her at the next intersection. 

Due to spending most of her time at the Metro Library, Mitsuru has seen people come and go; some of them she’s come to recognize, some she hasn’t. Other than civilians browsing the stacks, there’s quite a few library aides as well, quietly roaming the aisles and pushing carts full of books; however, not one to strike up a conversation out of nowhere (especially in a library, of all places) she usually passes them by on her way to her next book -- that is, until now. 

When she sees the girl at the empty intersection between stacks, she freezes. With piercing scarlet eyes similar to her own and a lithe, slender figure, the brunette looks harmless -- probably around her own age, actually -- but there is power radiating off of her, and a familiar one at that. Senses heightened slightly thanks to Penthesilea’s support abilities, it doesn’t take much for the heiress to recognize her as a fellow Persona-user -- albeit one she’s never seen before. Come to think of it, she had never really considered Persona-users existing outside of SEES and Strega, or at least the Iwatodai area or the Kirijo laboratories; this could prove to be quite the interesting development, and possibly even lead her to a new friend -- or at the very least, a new ally, if they were like-minded. Perhaps SEES could be reformed, after all... 

           there’s so much to see. left and right, up and down, countless assortments of colors, sounds, and food line the paths of golden ward’s amusement park, although rachel’s been drawn to one area in particular. she’s come to a sudden halt before the midway games, not realizing it, and is staring openly at the various plush toys available to win—until feet are finally uprooted by a stranger bumping into her.

              “ah, sorry… ”

The amusement park isn’t necessarily Mitsuru’s type of place, and yet, here she is -- taking in the sights and sounds, more than a bit overwhelmed by the crowds. It isn’t until she sees the midway games that her mind is set, aimlessly wandering no longer: she will (attempt to) win a prize for Minako, in return for her getting her that adorable little dolphin during the Sunset Festa. Granted she isn’t sure how well she’ll do at any of the games -- a shooting gallery, skee-ball, and ring toss among them -- but now that she has a bit more dust to burn, she certainly isn’t going to give up easily. In fact, she’s so determined that she doesn’t even notice the girl standing in front of the games, bumping right into her and back into reality with a start.

“I’ve seen two apocalypses now in my life-time, I’m not sure if that means I’m blessed or cursed.” There wasn’t any point in thinking about it too hard- Sonya had, and she was sure everyone else had too. Whatever the lights were for, whatever the monsters were for, whatever THEY were for. It was clear their captors did not yet want them to know.

She gives a playful pat to the other ones head, still holding true to her kind smile. This certainly hadn’t been the venture she had been expecting when she left her house this morning.

“That is very true, More questions and more questions. I don’t think it’s a bad thing though, it merely means we’re noticing more things, readying ourselves to move forward.” A small laugh though as she talks. “And you shouldn’t say it quite like that. ‘I suppose we’ll just have to keep living here’. You’re right we will keep living here. But not just, doing that though. This city is a second chance for many.” She was getting too passionate with her little speech. She was fully aware this place wasn’t as kind to everyone else as it had been for her. “A chance to grow.” She finishes finally, her voice a little quiet.

A long sigh, no spirits or souls or anything of the sort had showed themselves just yet. Granted she hadn’t been here too long. “But enough of the serious world-ending talk and nonsense, maybe something a little more lighthearted? Have you explored the wards much yet?”

As Sonya gently pats her on the head, Mitsuru can’t help but blush; it’s such a tender gesture, one she hasn’t felt in years, and she is immediately reminded of her father -- he had never been one for grandiose gestures of affection, but when he did show he cared, even if it had just been a simple head pat like this, it had meant the world to her. Even now, she misses him terribly; months have passed and yet his death still feels like it happened yesterday, the sight of guns glinting in the dark, the scent of blood, the feeling of his cold body in her arms -- no, she mustn’t go there, not now. There’s just something about this place that draws her into old memories and traps her there, and again she must force herself to focus on the here and now, focus on the hand resting against her head -- her memories may be cold, but it’s warm.

“You’re right...I hadn’t thought of it that way. I guess it’s difficult for me to understand, as back home I had just graduated. I was going to go to college, to take over my family’s business...” She trails off, her voice cracking ever so slightly. It is difficult, it will be difficult, but as Sonya says -- she can’t just keep on living life with no meaning, just day to day survival. She needs to find a new purpose, even if she isn’t sure where to find it or what it may be. Just because she doesn’t need a second chance doesn’t mean she should refuse one, after all...

❝ Ah, of course, of course you are, ❞ the corner of his lips twitched into a quick smile. How fierce! There was definitely fight in her, spirit. Her whole attitude was oddly familiar but it didn’t take a lot of time to figure out why: she strongly reminded him of one of his characters from his bestseller book, no wonder then why he still cared enough to be there. His curiosity was just awakening yet.

❝ No, not for sure, however, there have been a handful of crazy stories going around. Aliens, experiments, gods, the Illuminati, ❞ as the agent listed some of the possibilities he rested his hands behind his back, one on another; she clearly barely tolerated him examining her belonging, he might as well kept a little distance… for now, anyway.

❝ …and there is a lot more. Answers? No, at all. If you ask me… I doubt we can hope for them any time soon. Or find answers on our own, for that matter. You can join the flow, settle down, get a job, a pet and surround yourself with luxury items… or, ❞ and there was a firm pause, shaded eyes directed at Mitsuru. ❝ …or you go against the flow and investigate anyway. The choice is yours – if you happen to pick up a The Matrix reference at this point, don’t blame it on me. Blame it on the circumstances. And yes, this is one of the many theories as well.❞

Mitsuru is certainly no stranger to conspiracy theories; having been born and raised around them, it almost makes her wince as she remembers the crazed beliefs her grandfather had held, ones that had driven him to an early grave and the world nearly into certain doom. Even after the experimentation that had led to the Dark Hour the Kirijo Group had continued to make wild and sometimes unfounded guesses towards the nature of Shadows, research that was surely still ongoing at this very instant. So, this place would be no different then -- she can handle that. She never was one to “join the flow,” so to speak; swimming against the current, she’ll surely take Matei’s advice and pick up some research -- once she finds out where the nearest library is.