#killjoyfool

“またよろしくね.”

You're thirsty for blood — — Actually craving for love

@killjoy-fool

     I sprint through the halls of this facsimile of my old high school, taking care not to collide with transparent barriers.  It’s required some effort, but I’m starting to be able to tell where they are at a glance now.  Whoever’s doing this, I’m not sure how they’re capable of it.  With the Orb of Sight, I should be able to dispel their cheap parlor tricks without a problem.  Instead, my friends and I are being manipulated into fighting each other and that fake Teddie and Rise pair won’t can it.  It’s like someone’s trying to force us through the tournament of arc of some bad cartoon.

      Luckily enough, we’ve been able to avoid seriously hurting each other so far, but I’m worried about what’ll happen when our luck runs out.  Not all of our Personae have healing abilities.  Assuming Kanji is in here too, it’s not going to be pretty if him and Chie are forced into a fight.  I’m just glad Naoto and I found each other as quickly as we did.  I was honestly pretty disappointed when she told me she wasn’t going to be in town for Golden Week.  Even in a situation like this, it’s good to see-

     Thoroughly distracted by my infatuation, I don’t notice the invisible wall ahead of me until I run headlong into it and crumple backwards onto the ground.  Thankfully, the glasses Teddie made for me so long ago are sturdy enough not to break from an impact like that.  Using my katana as a crutch, I pick myself up and slam open the classroom door that appears to be my only way forward.

     Inside, a blue haired young man leans against a desk, his eyes following the silhouettes of the false students as they drift around the space, miming the behavior of real teenagers.  As his grey eyes turn to me, the light from the windows glints off the metallic headphones hanging from his ears.  He holds an impressive looking straight sword in one hand and some type of pistol rests in a holster hanging loosely around his waist.

     Oh great.  Some guy I don’t even know is in here with us.  I’m sure this won’t complicate matters.

     On reflex, my hands move to draw my blade from its sheath, but something makes me think better of it.  Releasing the grip, the steel slides back into place with a shing and a click.  My other hand lets go of the scabbard and my weapon falls to the ground harmlessly.

     “Hey, take it easy.  I’m not looking for a fight,” I say to him, knowing my words and actions are being misinterpreted by whoever’s behind this idiotic Grand Prix.

     Izanagi’s reacting to him strongly.  Despite my initial misgivings, my other self is telling me to try reasoning with him.  The aura this guy’s giving off…  could he be another Persona user?

“Ah! Arisato-kun, I had a question for you.” The senior chimed from across the room, feet carrying her to the couch where the person in question sat. Resting her palms against the back of the leather ( or was it pleather? hard to tell ) sofa, her face contorted into that of sheer confusion. Surely, her inquiry had to be super important, right?

“Did you eat the rest of my leftovers? Its either you, Akihiko or Iori-kun... the other two insist it wasn’t their doing... I don’t believe it but I thought I’d ask you too.”

“Who, Senpai? Oh, he’s great! He’s a lot smarter than me and he always knows what to do when things get crazy, so if I don’t know what’s going on, I just do what he says!

|| ♕ ||

He seemed to know that his prodding was pretty unlikely to actually get any results - but the fact that he continued regardless was actually quite amusing. One corner of rouged lips twitched upwards at the answer he gave, and she shot him a look that was almost playful.

                                      Will tomorrow come at last?                                                                            In a million shards of broken glass                                                                 Fate is bleeding through my resilient soul,                                                                    Dyeing it a pale and fragile blue                                                                                                                                                                                                                   { 0. XIII. XXI. XXII. }                                                                                                                     There is beauty in the lie, spoken like a bittersweet goodbye                                            Still that brilliant light is beyond my reach                                                                          Maybe I belong here –                                                                                  beneath the light of the moon