personavelvetroomdr | my montage of lost things, my shining trinkets of grief

((cw: hallucinations, panic, the general poor mental state of someone with a Palace))

Ren is not exactly at his most presentable. Like, yeah, he's clean and dressed, but that's about all you can say for him. His hair is a snarl of tangles, his skin is unhealthily pale, he holds himself rigidly, and the shadows under his eyes are so dark that it looks like they might never leave. And he knows he looks bad, but by now he's beyond caring. With everything that's happening to him, someone judging his hair is the least of his fucking concerns.

He doesn't usually like to go out, these days. A lot can happen when he's out of his apartment. Too many things he can't control, and too many places that remind him of home, which lately is to be avoided at all costs. But his apartment isn't much better. There's nowhere he can look where he hasn't seen Shido, or Akechi, or Shido and Akechi, or his parents or his orphanage directors or fuck knows who else. There's nowhere he can sit where he hasn't heard their voices. And when he's not hallucinating, he's alone with his thoughts, which is worse.

All that is to say, there was a whole thing earlier where he felt like he couldn't breathe, and it sucked, but it's over now! He's fine. Still, it made him want to get out of his apartment. So here he is, out in Shibuya. And outside has turned out to be as vertiginous and full of danger as he was afraid of, but, well. At least it's different.

1. all the things that i ran from i now bring as close to me as i can

He stands with his back to the wall of a storefront and searches the constant stream of passing cognitions. His expression is fraught. He knows he hasn't really been seeing people from his past, he's not stupid, but the idea of being blindsided by a hallucinatory Shido or orphanage director amidst the crowd is terrifying enough to keep him rooted in place, watching endlessly.

2. gripping hotel sheets with gritted teeth

He's finally escaped the crowds. Curled up on the grimy concrete in a Shibuya alleyway, his knees to his chest and his back once again pressed to the wall, he tries to calm down. Akechi made him breathe, that time when he freaked out in his Palace. He tries to match the rhythm he remembers, but it just makes him think about the Palace, so he abandons that plan almost at once and goes back to waiting out the terror. He'll be fine if he just grits his teeth and endures it. That... usually works, anyway.

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"I could've said no."

It would have ended badly for him, but they couldn't physically force him to call his Persona and kill Shadows in the Metaverse.

"Could you?" If he's around Makoto's age now he's still some kid with very little power compared to someone able to make a child do such a thing. So, Makoto has his doubts that Ren could have said no and survived.

"Sure. What were they gonna do about it, make me go in the Metaverse and summon my Persona?"

He turns his head to the side to regard Makoto. "Is this fun for you? Watching me be a pathetic piece of shit. I'd think it was fun, if it was someone I didn't like." And it would be a good explanation for why Makoto is still around.

"And would you be alive if you didn't?" He points out.

Ren asks if this is fun for him and he shakes his head. "Not particularly. I don't like you very much but I'm not letting you suffer here alone...I lost a friend that way." Letting Shinji and Ken suffer alone because he was too wrapped up in other things cost him Shinji's life. He will not make that mistake again.

He makes a discontented noise. "You're like Akechi. Bleeding fucking heart. You need to know when it's not worth it, dude.

"Probably not," he adds. "My corpse would've been been cut into little pieces and fed to an incinerator years ago. Or maybe I'd have been sold to some foreigner, I don't know. I'm sorry about your friend."

"I get to make that choice, not you." Makoto can't help but assert back.

His face falls into something of shock when Ren mentions the terrible things that would have happened to him if he didn't obey. "You- you realize that you're acting like you had a choice when the alternative was that." He's not worried about the apology for Shinji's death when Ren is admitting to a total lack of agency in his situation.

"I think Akechi would've said no." His eyes go distant. "Like. That's what you're supposed to do, right? You're just one person. Not important compared to a hundred plus people, or something. ...Fuck, you really are just like him, you know? He sits there and asks one question and everyone spills their damn guts."

"It's really easy to say that, but when you're in the situation..." He remembers when he was little and in that wreck, reaching out to Aigis for help. He hadn't recognized her then. "Nobody wants to suffer when they die." And if Ren was going to suffer it was like being asked to throw yourself on the hypothetical trolley tracks.

He can't talk Ren out of hating himself though. "Curling up in a dirty alley isn't gonna unkill those people either. Would you be up for going somewhere to eat?" Ren looked pale, and like he hadn't left his own apartment until now, so Makoto had an obligation to make sure he was alright physically even if he couldn't fix Ren's problem.

"Even with the food," he mumbles, perhaps cryptically. But he doesn't actually like huddling in a back alley like this. "I... Yeah, if you really... I just hate being around all the cognitions at once."

Makoto nods, holding out his hand so that Ren doesn't get lost among cognitions. That Big Bang Burger place is close he's pretty sure.

It feels weird. But Ren hasn't forgotten standing paralyzed in the street. That's the whole reason he ended up in this alley where Makoto could find him. He obviously can't be trusted to wander around by himself, so, wordlessly, he takes Makoto's hand.

Makoto makes it clear he's just keeping Ren at arm's length when he practically drags the other down to the Shibuya Central Street. He figures that Ren is done talking, so he isn't going to worry about filling the silence.

Ren half-follows, half lets himself be dragged. Most of his attention is on the endless river of cognitions around them; his wide, nervous eyes dart back and forth, waiting for more hallucinations to emerge from the crowd.

Makoto seems to notice the look and gets them to that burger place a little faster. Maybe he should try and fill the silence, which he was never very good at. "The place back home has this stupid burger challenge where you try to eat as many as you can in like a minute." No, that was a stupid thing to say, but it was something at least.

He glances at Makoto, grateful for the lifeline, although he feels pathetic about it. "I've done one of those. Except it was half an hour, and it was just one giant—"

Useless trash! Rabid dog! his mother screams in his ear. He flinches and stumbles over smooth pavement. "Motherfucker—"

Makoto genuinely listens until he notices Ren swearing and stumbling over pavement. Ren is definitely taller than him so Makoto struggles to make sure he doesn't fall. Instead of heading to the end of Central Street, there's a diner to guide Ren inside.

"Auditory?" Makoto distinctly remembers that the auditory hallucinations he had were what caused him to have his music player with him at all times. They were always the worst when he was younger.

"Uh. Yeah." He doesn't know what different hallucinations are called or anything, but he can tell auditory has something to do with hearing, so presumably it's right.

There are cognitions in the diner, but it's not nearly so densely packed, and most of them are staying in one spot. He relaxes a little. "Sorry."

my montage of lost things, my shining trinkets of grief

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human trafficking mention

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