{ A Train in Six Swords }
Title: A Train in Six Swords
Fandom: Persona 3
Characters: Shinjiro Aragaki, Yukari Takeba, Akihiko Sanada, Mitsuru Kirijo
Word Count: 1022
Comm & Prompt: 78_tarot : Six of Swords
Rating: PG13 for language and probably also deathiness
Maybe it was time for a change of scene.
He was starting to feel the alley becoming a part of him, starting to feel more of an affinity with the streetlights and the crumpled papers on the ground as they rustled past at midnight. He didn't even feel the nervous tension the dark rooms and seedy bars had for him anymore; the alleyway was becoming as familiar to him as himself.
And that was a problem.
Ken had joined SEES for the very same reason why Shinjiro had run away from it; in a sense, all things were circular. Every escape had an end, and often a fatal one at that.
Was destiny impossible to reconcile with, too difficult to shape or too slippery to catch hold of and change? Or should he just march down the path that had been set out for him and accept it?
Shinjiro Aragaki kicked a stray can in the road with unusual vigor. Damn, he was trapped.
-o-
She found Akihiko standing in front of the memorial.
The gymnasium was empty except for him, the glistening floors reflecting the solemn black of the table and the flowers seemed muted against dark fabric. The floor had been polished to such a high shine that it made the memorial seem almost radiant, as though the table, the photograph, and the flowers were dancing in the light, with a sole figure standing between the two worlds, living and the dead.
"Hey, senpai." Yukari ventured quietly, not wanting to disturb the strange balance, but feeling awkward all the same. "I thought I would find you here."
Even before she said it, she knew it would sound dumb. Yeah, duh, he'd be here. His best friend just died, for God's sake. Where else would he be?
They sat in silence for a while. Then Akihiko spoke up.
"You know, I think he had it all worked out, Shinji, I mean. I think he knew what he was doing from the very start. You'd think that a guy like him wouldn't want to die, would want to run away from all of this so that he could escape it, but..."
The shift in Akihiko's voice caused her to turn.
"It's like he knew he was going on a journey."
-o-
Journey, my ass.
Shinjiro Aragaki doesn't travel, not away from this island. He can't even go to Aki's sporting events since leaving school, and that would be the only draw anyway. But sometimes he'll take the train, even when he knows exactly where he'll end up when he's done.
"You got a ticket, mister?" The conductor asks brusquely.
Mister, huh?
There used to be a time when that guy would call him "kid" and tell him not be out too late or else his parents would worry. Laughing, Shinjiro didn't mention that he'd never had parents, or that he was staying out too late to dispatch some Shadows.
Mister? He supposes it fits. You become an adult damn fast when you end someone's life.
-o-
"You seen Shinji?" Akihiko asked.
Sitting in the lounge, reading her book, Mitsuru looked up. Her deep red eyes gleamed in the lamplight. Everything about her spelledthe right kind of upbringing, from the cursive hand that danced in the margins of her text, to the sensible black-buttons on her jacket, and the elegant braid of her hair. "No. Why? Has he gone missing?"
Running a hand through his silver-white hair, Akihiko sighed. "You know Shinji. He doesn't go missing, he just goes off to the same place. I just have a bad feeling."
Mitsuru closes her eyes and smiles knowingly. "It's a full moon. I'd be surprised if you didn't have a bad feeling, Akihiko."
-o-
"Are you paying attention?" Yukari's voice grates on his ears.
"What?" Shinjiro replies off-handedly. It's one week left to the deadline- literally, in this case- and he's starting to get jumpy.
Whatever he's made of himself, whatever he's tried to better with learning how to cook and making dinners for the team, making friends with the dog and saving those kids' collective ass from all kinds of danger, all of it can be undone in a moment. Nothing, no state of being in life is so set that it cannot be changed.
"This is hopeless." Yukari moans. "It's like I'm talking to a wall. Look, senpai, with all due respect, maybe you just need a break. Like we did earlier in the year before you joined us, going to the beach and getting to relax really helped us to fight better. Maybe it's time you took a vacation, too."
Shinjiro almost stumbles as they walk. Swallowing, he tries to act as though nothing's happened.
"Yeah, vacation sounds good."
-o-
This is the first time he's actually felt like he's going anywhere.
He's been caught between a world of reality and reflection, where life and death intermingle through frosted glass, the cruel hand of his Persona lurking just beyond the edges of his vision.
Ahead of him, he can see an orange jacket waiting in an alleyway he's known all too well. As he steps closer, he knows he's boarding a train that he can't get off of, that this will be a short ride and for the first time in his life, he won't come back from this alley without having settled things.
The puddles from the tropical storm are still on the sidewalk. But instead of swallowing his steps, it's like he can feel his soul already dancing between the worlds, like light on glazed wood, blinking off into the distance like the headlights of passing trains.
Fandom: Persona 3
Characters: Shinjiro Aragaki, Yukari Takeba, Akihiko Sanada, Mitsuru Kirijo
Word Count: 1022
Comm & Prompt: 78_tarot : Six of Swords
Rating: PG13 for language and probably also deathiness
Maybe it was time for a change of scene.
He was starting to feel the alley becoming a part of him, starting to feel more of an affinity with the streetlights and the crumpled papers on the ground as they rustled past at midnight. He didn't even feel the nervous tension the dark rooms and seedy bars had for him anymore; the alleyway was becoming as familiar to him as himself.
And that was a problem.
Ken had joined SEES for the very same reason why Shinjiro had run away from it; in a sense, all things were circular. Every escape had an end, and often a fatal one at that.
Was destiny impossible to reconcile with, too difficult to shape or too slippery to catch hold of and change? Or should he just march down the path that had been set out for him and accept it?
Shinjiro Aragaki kicked a stray can in the road with unusual vigor. Damn, he was trapped.
-o-
She found Akihiko standing in front of the memorial.
The gymnasium was empty except for him, the glistening floors reflecting the solemn black of the table and the flowers seemed muted against dark fabric. The floor had been polished to such a high shine that it made the memorial seem almost radiant, as though the table, the photograph, and the flowers were dancing in the light, with a sole figure standing between the two worlds, living and the dead.
"Hey, senpai." Yukari ventured quietly, not wanting to disturb the strange balance, but feeling awkward all the same. "I thought I would find you here."
Even before she said it, she knew it would sound dumb. Yeah, duh, he'd be here. His best friend just died, for God's sake. Where else would he be?
They sat in silence for a while. Then Akihiko spoke up.
"You know, I think he had it all worked out, Shinji, I mean. I think he knew what he was doing from the very start. You'd think that a guy like him wouldn't want to die, would want to run away from all of this so that he could escape it, but..."
The shift in Akihiko's voice caused her to turn.
"It's like he knew he was going on a journey."
-o-
Journey, my ass.
Shinjiro Aragaki doesn't travel, not away from this island. He can't even go to Aki's sporting events since leaving school, and that would be the only draw anyway. But sometimes he'll take the train, even when he knows exactly where he'll end up when he's done.
"You got a ticket, mister?" The conductor asks brusquely.
Mister, huh?
There used to be a time when that guy would call him "kid" and tell him not be out too late or else his parents would worry. Laughing, Shinjiro didn't mention that he'd never had parents, or that he was staying out too late to dispatch some Shadows.
Mister? He supposes it fits. You become an adult damn fast when you end someone's life.
-o-
"You seen Shinji?" Akihiko asked.
Sitting in the lounge, reading her book, Mitsuru looked up. Her deep red eyes gleamed in the lamplight. Everything about her spelledthe right kind of upbringing, from the cursive hand that danced in the margins of her text, to the sensible black-buttons on her jacket, and the elegant braid of her hair. "No. Why? Has he gone missing?"
Running a hand through his silver-white hair, Akihiko sighed. "You know Shinji. He doesn't go missing, he just goes off to the same place. I just have a bad feeling."
Mitsuru closes her eyes and smiles knowingly. "It's a full moon. I'd be surprised if you didn't have a bad feeling, Akihiko."
-o-
"Are you paying attention?" Yukari's voice grates on his ears.
"What?" Shinjiro replies off-handedly. It's one week left to the deadline- literally, in this case- and he's starting to get jumpy.
Whatever he's made of himself, whatever he's tried to better with learning how to cook and making dinners for the team, making friends with the dog and saving those kids' collective ass from all kinds of danger, all of it can be undone in a moment. Nothing, no state of being in life is so set that it cannot be changed.
"This is hopeless." Yukari moans. "It's like I'm talking to a wall. Look, senpai, with all due respect, maybe you just need a break. Like we did earlier in the year before you joined us, going to the beach and getting to relax really helped us to fight better. Maybe it's time you took a vacation, too."
Shinjiro almost stumbles as they walk. Swallowing, he tries to act as though nothing's happened.
"Yeah, vacation sounds good."
-o-
This is the first time he's actually felt like he's going anywhere.
He's been caught between a world of reality and reflection, where life and death intermingle through frosted glass, the cruel hand of his Persona lurking just beyond the edges of his vision.
Ahead of him, he can see an orange jacket waiting in an alleyway he's known all too well. As he steps closer, he knows he's boarding a train that he can't get off of, that this will be a short ride and for the first time in his life, he won't come back from this alley without having settled things.
The puddles from the tropical storm are still on the sidewalk. But instead of swallowing his steps, it's like he can feel his soul already dancing between the worlds, like light on glazed wood, blinking off into the distance like the headlights of passing trains.