MY PERSONA...

living day by day on a tight budget, he cannot help but admit his impulse purchases that was inclusive of two perfectly shaped lobsters gifted by the heavens were to blame, but today brought upon a curious situation. rarely did he ever speak to makoto personally, it wasn’t to say there were any issues in their friendship, but more so the chances never seem to match, such as fate decided.

‘ good afternoon, makoto, my apologies for my tardiness.. ‘ he greets her with his usual mannerisms, quirky but charismatic, a pretty boy with an off personality. growing up being around madarame and the other art students in that old building, he almost never socialised without unintentionally brushing someone off due to his priorities. 

though he does wonder what reason she calls him for exactly, what prompts it to happen now? taking the seat she signals at, the broke artist had left a station early in order to save on train fares, thus he was late from strolling a station’s distance away. ‘ –my social habits? ‘ he repeats curiously, arms crossed against his chest as index finger presses at the edge of his lips in thought, furrowed eyebrows that ease in moments. 

‘ it’s quite fine, i’m rather used to it actually. i get to view many sights while returning home from the mementos. for example, the perfect display of the strong bonds between siblings at the playground! ‘ he figures she wants nothing to do with the motivations from everyday life that he paints on a canvas, instead focusing on the latter part of her words. ‘ i.. might not have enough to afford lunch.. but it does not sit right with me to have you pay for it, is there a way i could compensate you? ‘

the gasp that follows yusuke’s admission comes instinctively, a direct result of having a heart several sizes too big. yusuke is worried about money? he’s more than made up for his share of the meal with all the fighting he’s done in mementos as of recent. makoto raises a hand in protest, cheeks going red.

“oh, yusuke, please don’t worry about that. this is my treat, alright? consider it a reward for all the work you do for-“

a pause. two elderly women and a younger man walk past the table, and makoto stops in her tracks.

“all the work you do for the company. you’ve been a big help, and it’s nice to see that you’re as motivated about the cause as we are,” she smiles. she’s never been a good liar, but concealing the true nature of their affiliation comes easy to makoto. she supposes this is just one secret that she doesn’t have a problem with keeping. that may be why she’s found it so easy to deceive her sister.

‘ oh my, how scary of the student council president. ‘ akechi would taunt, a tone so thoroughly amused and yet there was a subtle amount of dejection contained. with an absentminded tap of his shoe and arms that open wide to give a complete shrug, as if the ill deeds he has done could be so easily brushed off like dust off of old shelves. he has nothing to fear of her, even in a group and with the power of numbers, the detective was confident in his abilities, ‘ –i’m sure sae-san would be proud, wouldn’t she? ‘ he teases without remorse, the sharper his words, the better.

pride in himself was one of the few things he could call his own, he didn’t need anyone but himself, the outside world was a cruel place filled with people who only wished for their own benefit. the misery of others would feed their happiness, the strong crushed the weak under their heel and when the victims come to power against their perpetrators, they become no different from the people that abused them.

‘ though unfortunately for you, i don’t need your forgiveness, nor do i care for it. ‘ akechi hums as he takes a quick glance to scout their numbers and positions, he wasn’t going to be outsmarted by them again. fool him once with a mocked death, but he wouldn’t allow it to happen a second time, ‘ i’ll kill you all, simple as that. ‘

she should have expected this type of childish behavior from someone like him. "resorting to insults, akechi-san? there's a girl on the student council," makoto begins, tongue razor-sharp. "her name is... aiko, i believe. she's a first year, much smarter than i doubt you could ever be. it wasn't very difficult at all to find out what your true intentions were, akechi. no, not very difficult at all. we had you in our sights from the start. i suppose we're just lucky enough to have such a charismatic leader guiding us to victory, hm?"

"maybe you're not afraid of me. i don't care. i'm not a fear-monger, not like you. i wonder what must have happened to you to turn you into this, akechi. from what joker says, you aren't a--"

buccellati knows the watchfulness of that gaze, knows the professionalism that’s bred from years of playing the part. but it isn’t his place to comment on it, so he doesn’t. only feels a small amount of kindred sympathy for the young woman before him.

he takes the bag. but he can’t help the intensity of his gaze, how it seems to dare people to defy him or lie to him with little more than the slight touch of sharpened brows. but he can direct it away from her to open it on the hood of his car and inspect its contents, speaking offhandedly while he does.

        "tuesday is fine. with the storms up the coast we’re expecting shipments to be delayed. irritating, but not your fault. just make sure your team is ready to move when they come to port.“

satisfied, he shrugs the tote onto his shoulder.

      "everything looks to be here. good condition, too,” he notes. “did you run into any trouble? any unexpected roadblocks?”

only seventeen, and makoto has already sold her soul to the devil. there’s a mutual gaze shared between her and buccellati, a silent promise; when something happens to polpo, buccellati can count on makoto for any personal favors he needs. four years she’s been at this, since makoto was thirteen and homeless. bruno buccellati has kept a distant yet watchful eye on her ( and the others ) since then. he’s used every limited ounce of free will in his body to prevent the phantom thieves from harm. even if he doesn’t show it like everyone else does.

they’ve both always been introverted types, makoto more so. she finds solace in a kindred spirit, and she will tell him that one day, when she is braver and a thousand times more comfortable in her own skin.

“ they rigged the security... differently than we were expecting. it took oracolo longer than usual to get in, but other than that there were no issues. you know our leader, don’t you ? he’s brilliant with these things, ” makoto muses quietly, pulling at her sleeve. “ the whole team is. ”

there’s a habitual moment of silence between the two, typically given in conversations between polpo and herself. one of the first things makoto learned from polpo is that no-one likes a lady who talks too much. the more-than-once-a-day reminders to “ shut your mouth, regina ” have drilled her into near-silence. now, every word seems to be occupied by two seconds of padding. just in case.

in the distance he sees some shujin students bicker. normally ren isn’t in the mood for this ( he always tends to avoid students if he could ), but this seems to be quite serious. what is going on? he thinks to himself as he stood looking from the corner of the hall. couldn’t they just do this somewhere outside of school? how stupid are they?

makoto joins him at the people watching and gives him a knowing look. he returns the gesture. then he shrugs at her question, but he does sigh and shake his head. “ … alright, ”he says as he crosses his arms over each other. “ but you be in the front or else they won’t take it serious. ”

oh, naturally. the job of a monarch is not one that comes without obligation, and makoto shows a meager smile as she accepts the lead.

she’s had no difficulties with this task of maintaining the peace. makoto niijima has always been a compassionate girl. that hasn’t changed since she first awakened johanna, and she feels more confident after the fact. these students aren’t an issue. no, they barely hold a candle to the shadows she’s fought. nuclear blasts aside, makoto can stand up for herself when push comes to shove. ren’s presence acts as an amplifier.

“ is there a problem ? ” 

she forces her voice to be every bit as intimidating as in the metaverse. makoto’s reign as shujin’s student council president is something to fear; even joker is a stranger to her iron grip. but alas, makoto’s words come out far quieter than she had expected, nothing but a squeak ghosting its way across her lips. crimson eyes turn to ren, pleading for a second chance to prove herself. makoto is better than this, and she can show him.

𝙼𝙴𝙳𝙸𝙴𝚅𝙰𝙻. tired eyes.  coffee stains on the table.  listening to the bustle of the city.  unmade beds.  ponytails.  sunlight seeping through the curtains. chapped lips.  walking barefoot across the floorboards.  dusty dictionaries.  black and white reruns.  huge sweaters. the ticking of the clock. hearing birds in the morning.  fireplaces.  falling asleep during class.


𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴.  freckled skin.  the sun rising.  watching the sea.  taking shots of the city.  historical museums.  bright eyes.   looking up at the clouds.  walls covered in artworks.  drawing in the middle of lessons.  tracing your fingers on the sand.   painting for hours.  staying in uncrowded coffee-shops. worn paperbacks.  messy braids. going to bed with your kneesocks on.


𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙾𝚀𝚄𝙴.  dark hair. a little sophisticated.  always observing the world around you. intricate designs.  high ceilings.  extravagant musical pieces.  dim room lights. colorless photographs.  fancy furniture. pale skin.  hearing soft footfalls coming from outside the room. mischievous looks. bitten nails.  candlelight dinners.  dark shades of lipstick.


𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻.  chandeliers.  the clinking of a teacup mug.  laced clothing.  modern architecture.  light hair.  watching the view from the terrace. hidden birthmarks.  drinking tea in the morning.  wandering about in an empty building.  botanical gardens.  old films.  ancient marble sculptures.  expensive perfume.  breakfasts in bed.  reading stories about mythology.


𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙲.  compassion. short writings on scraps of paper.  blushed cheeks. a bouquet of roses.  reading collections of poetry late at night.  loose hair.  carpeted floors. attending operas. faint music playing in the background. staying under the covers until midday.  the night sky.  streetlights.  picking flowers. dancing around in silk dresses.  scented candles.

tagged by:​  the wonderful @outcaste

as makoto makes the walk of shame up the stairs to shujin academy’s roof, she has some time to think to herself about what she’s doing before she does it.

will haru be upset that she came unannounced ?  makoto doesn’t think she’s ever even touched a plant before, much less planted anything. is there a way to plant something wrong ?  she might mess it up. badly.

it’s only somewhat reassuring to see none other than haru okumura on the roof, holding a spade and smiling. makoto smiles back and takes a seat beside her friend sheepishly.

afternoons are always spent in the student council’s meeting room. it’s that simple, really. when she’s not saving the little guy by fighting for her life in mementos, makoto niijima plays the part of budo-ga oka high’s student council president.

the view from this room is stunning, and makoto appreciates the way that the sun cascades through the window. the light hits her hair in such a way that it’s near orange, something she’s never considered. all of this paperwork is to be expected for someone of makoto’s position.

what isn’t expected ?

the one and only angel, someone makoto’s only seen in passing. she’s never expected someone like angel to come here... to see her ?

makoto’s head jerks up, and her eyes immediately focus on the blonde girl standing at the doorway. 

“ is something wrong, angel ? ”

she might seem like a paranoid, but anyone would be surprised how many students come in here to complain. makoto has become nothing more than a listening ear, at this point.