Chapter Text
“Your perception of a particular situation is overly optimistic and unrealistic. You do not have a good sense of yourself and what you are and are not capable of. You may have become egotistical and out of touch with whom you really are. You may not be being truthful to yourself and to others, instead trying to talk yourself up when you know you cannot deliver.”
-
The thing, Momota thinks, is that he should have insisted on going back into that weird world in the TV with Akamatsu and Shuuichi the second time. Shuuichi had fretted and fiddled with his hat like he always did and said that as a detective, he needed go back in to investigate, and since Akamatsu had earned that weird power, she could protect him if anything happened.
Momota mostly thought Shuuichi wanted to spend time alone with the pretty transfer student he had fallen in love with the second she had saved him from whatever those monsters that attacked them were. Well, alone with her and that weird robot boy on the other side.
So Momota had backed off, and the two had gone in alone, and Shuuichi came out more confident than Momota had seen him in years. His hat was gone and he was smiling and he looked Momota in the eyes when he told him how he had finally faced himself. Akamatsu had smiled, too, and explained that apparently Shuuichi now had the same power she did. She said the two of them could work together to save anyone else who got trapped inside the TV.
Momota felt the spark of something uncomfortably rotten then, but he clapped Shuuichi on the back, and said, “That’s my sidekick. Looks like you’re turning into a real hero just like your boss.”
And Akamatsu laughed and Shuuichi looked embarrassed and Momota still felt he was part of something.
-
Chabashira Tenko had appeared on TV because her family’s dojo was one of the few interesting things about their tiny town. Then she appeared on the midnight channel, and when their warnings failed, she disappeared inside the other world.
The three of them had met in the mall food court, Akamatsu saying, “I think our best course of action is to consult with Kiibo-kun, and see if he can locate her.”
Shuuichi nodded. “I believe Kiibo-kun also said that the person inside is only in danger when it’s foggy over here, so Chabashira-san should be safe for a while.”
“I know,” Akamatsu said. “But I’m still a little nervous, so if we can rescue her today, I think we should.”
Momota said, “Right,” and slammed his fists together. “Then let’s go today. ‘Sides, I’m really interested in meeting this Kiibo guy for real.”
Shuuichi and Akamatsu exchanged a look that made Momota’s stomach turn. “What?” he asked.
“Ah, Momota-kun,” Akamatsu began. “I know you want to help, but I think me and Saihara-kun can handle this.”
“What?!” he shouted. “Oh, come on—you guys are fighting monsters and shit, right? And you already told me how all the crap works, so it’s not like I’d slow you down or anything. Shuuichi,” he turned to him, “you know I’d be great, right? I mean, can you think of someone who’d be better at rescuing people than the great Momota Kaito?”
Shuuichi shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I’m sorry, Momota-kun,” he said. “But I have to agree with Akamatsu-san. Going into the TV is…” he shakes his head. “I really don’t think you should go through that. And besides,” he looked to Akamatsu for backup. “I think keeping this to as few people as possible will attract less attention.”
“That’s right,” Akamatsu said. “Besides, my cousin is getting suspicious enough as it is about me staying up till midnight watching TV and calling a boy.”
Momota looked between them and became aware he was dangerously close to sounding like a child whining to their parents. “Fine,” he sighed. “But I’m still gonna help you with shit. No way you guys are just leaving me out of this.”
-
On a day that looked like rain, Shuuichi and Akamatsu went to go save Chabashira, and Momota spent his afternoon on the capsule machine in the shopping district that always got stuck.
He didn’t really care about the toy pinwheel, cheap snack, or whatever else was trapped just inches from his reach. That didn’t stop him from smacking the machine with his fist and cursing with each futile kick.
Momota started to feel the first raindrops sprinkle down somewhere through the cloud of his frustration. The weather report said it was going to get worse within the hour, and Momota didn’t have an umbrella. Walking home soaked didn’t seem to matter when the machine in front of him needed just a few more smacks to work. His hand was starting to hurt, but that didn’t matter either.
The giggling from behind him managed to break his concentration. “Whoa there, big guy. If you break it, I won’t be able to—”
“Not now, Ouma! I’m,” Momota gave the machine another kick. “Fucking in the middle of something.”
Ouma smirked at him, happily twirling the handle of his neon purple umbrella. “Oh, don’t let me stop you. Just make sure you don’t ruin it for everybody, ‘kay? Speaking of everybody,” Momota’s scowl deepened as he just knew Ouma was making a show of looking around, “it’s a little weird to see you all on your lonesome. Ooh, what should I say to Momota-chan now that I got him alone?”
“Shut up,” Momota snapped.
The rain was starting to come down harder. Ouma giggled. “Someone seems upset. Weather got you down?”
It wasn’t that far away from the truth. The weekend rain had whisked his friends away to some place where they wouldn’t let him follow. Momota finally turned to face him. “What do you really want?”
Ouma ignored him, coming to stand beside the capsule machine. The meager light cast through his umbrella painted a purple crescent moon over his face. “You seem more like a sunshine person, so I guess it makes sense.”
He kneeled next to the machine and started fiddling with the controls in a way Momota must have overlooked. The tiny capsule came free, rattling as it fell free from its prison. Ouma smirked as he popped it open. “Ooh, a firecracker. Someone’s lucky.”
Momota didn’t care about the prize, and given the rain, a firecracker would likely be ruined in seconds. Still, he swiped it out of Ouma’s hands. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Always happy to help, Momota-chan,” Ouma hummed, placing his own money in the machine. His trick worked twice, but Ouma’s excitement deflated when he opened his own prize. “Aw, boo. Hey, Momota-chan, wanna trade me?”
“No,” Momota said. “I don’t fucking know what that is, but mine’s obviously better.”
“You don’t even want your stupid firecracker.”
“Whatever. You can be jealous if you want.”
Ouma huffed. “Meanie, and after I saved you, too.”
Momota furrowed his brow. “Saved? I said thanks, and I didn’t even need your fucking help in the first—”
Ouma has to raise his arm straight up in the air to get his umbrella over both of them. Ouma’s pale face is tinged purple, and Momota suddenly becomes very aware of the water dripping off of his bangs, off the end of his nose, down his suddenly hot face. “Yeah,” Ouma said. “There’s a killer lurking around, you know. I couldn’t just leave you out in the rain all by your—”
Momota ran. The firework was ruined. He pretended he didn’t see Ouma when he walked to school through the fog the next day.
-
Shuuichi and Akamatsu and their robot sidekick rescued Chabashira without a problem and without needing any help. And Chabashira came out of the T.V. with a persona of her own, ready to be a hero and fight alongside them.
When Yumeno Himiko’s magic show started being advertised, the pattern started again, and Chabashira chimed in on their four way phone calls at midnight, ready and waiting to jump into the action.
The day the three of them agreed to go into rescue her, Chabashira had asked, “Does Momota-san have the same power as us?”
“Ah, no,” Shuuichi said. “But he knows how everything works, so he helps out with things on this side.”
Momota had grinned as triumphantly as he could manage. “Yeah! I’m a team player or whatever. Though, I’m sure I could help more if I go over to that side with you guys.”
Akamatsu said, “I’m not sure that’s a great idea. Besides, right now we really need to focus on saving Yumeno-san. Bringing someone else would be, well…”
“A liability?” Chabashira said. “If Momota-san hasn’t faced his other self, we would have to fight his shadow, correct?”
“I’m not a liability!” Momota shouted. “I already told you I know how everything works, so I’d be fine, and then you guys would have a fourth.”
Chabashira shook her head. “Just like an awful boy to put himself before someone else.”
Shuuichi winced. “I’m not sure I would say that, but it is true that we should try to minimize any distractions that might interfere with us rescuing Yumeno-san before the fog comes.”
Akamatsu was the leader, and she declared the argument final, and Momota got to watch the T.V. and let them know when the coast was clear to go in and come out.
It took them a few days to save Yumeno, and each rainy night Momota would stare at his T.V. and think about the tiny girl inside and how she would become a hero and feel so, so jealous.
-
The third person to show up on the midnight channel is the blurry outline of Ouma Kokichi, and Momota’s the first to start the group call.
Shuuichi says, “I think it’s him, too. There was that special the other day on possible cult activity, right? Everyone was talking about it, even if it’s all nonsense.”
“Tenko remembers that,” she says. “Also Akamatsu-san texted Tenko to say she will join soon after she deals with her cousin.”
“Should we just wait for her, then?” Yumeno asks. “I dunno if we can get much done with just us…”
“Come on, guys,” Momota says. “You can’t depend on Akamatsu for everything. Let’s make a plan so we can stop the killer before Ouma even touches a TV.”
Shuuichi sighs. “It would be nice if we could save someone before the killer kidnaps them.” Momota can practically hear his frown on the other side of the phone. “Also I really don’t want to imagine what Ouma-kun’s shadow would be like.”
“Ugh,” Yumeno says. “If we fight Ouma’s shadow and he gets a persona, do we have to let him on the team?”
Chabashira begins to say something, and Momota snaps over her, “No—don’t be an idiot.”
Chabashira starts reprimanding him for yelling at Yumeno, and Akamatsu finally joins the call and gives them a plan, and Momota swears to himself that he can do it. No matter what, he’s going to save someone. He’s going to be the hero and that’s that.
-
Momota decides that Ouma Kokichi is ten times more annoying when experienced in large doses.
At school, he waves off their warnings, saying how he already knows and can handle himself. He skips away from them, and Akamatsu sighs. “After class gets out, we’re following him. If we stake out his house, we might be able to catch the killer.”
Momota nods. “Got it. Leave this to me and Shuuichi. Ouma knows us better anyway, so the little brat’s less likely to call the fucking cops on us or something for breaking into his house.”
Shuuichi quickly waves his hands. “We are not breaking into anyone’s house. We’re just going to stay outside, and see if anyone suspicious comes by. Also I don’t think confronting the killer alone is a good idea.”
“Come on, Shuuichi,” Momota claps him on the back. “Be a man. There’s no way I’m gonna fucking back down from something like this.”
Chabashira crosses her arms. “Why are all boys so reckless?”
Momota dismisses her. “I’m not being reckless. I’m just doing what a man needs to do, you know? Even if it’s fucking saving someone like Ouma.”
Chabashira shook her head. “Tenko is never going to understand male degenerates.”
-
Akamatsu decides that everyone is going, and they stand on the sidewalk outside of Ouma’s house while he makes faces at them from his window.
Yumeno observes, “You think the killer would try and kidnap him even if a bunch of people were standing around?”
“No,” Akamatsu says with a sigh, “I don’t, but it’s not like there’s anywhere to hide around here.” She spares a glance to see Ouma sticking his tongue out at them through the glass. “And I doubt Ouma-kun would let us stay at his house.”
“That’s why I’m telling you guys we should just break in,” Momota says. “I’ll kick down the door, and Chabashira can beat him up.”
“Ah, Momota-kun,” Shuuichi says. “Our goal is to protect Ouma-kun.”
“I know,” he says.
Shuuichi just sighs. “Anyway, though I hope I’m wrong, I have a feeling that this is going to turn out like Chabashira-san and Yumeno-san’s cases.”
“And if it does, we’ll just do what we always do,” Akamatsu says. “We’re a team after all.”
Yumeno hums and says, “Yeah… I guess we are. Never thought I’d be on a team that fights monsters with a robot,” she looks to Momota, “and then another guy.”
“Shut up,” he snaps.
“Momota-san, do not be rude to Yumeno-san,” Chabashira says.
“She’s picking a fight with me—”
“Anyway,” Akamatsu says. “That reminds me of something. Saihara-kun, try calling my phone. Oh, and make sure to put it on speaker.”
He blinks at her but does so without question. With his phone to his ear, after a few rings a voice answers, “Hello? Is this Akamatsu-san?”
Everyone besides Momota perks up at the sound of the voice, leaving him to ask, “What?”
“Kiibo-kun,” Shuuichi says. “Is that you?”
“Yes!” the voice says. “I see Akamatsu-san’s plan worked. Now I can communicate with you from here.”
“At least until my phone’s battery runs out,” Akamatsu says with a self deprecating smile. “I tried leaving it with Kiibo-kun last time, just in case we could contact him, and it looks like it was a success.”
“Wait, Kiibo?” Momota asks. “The robot guy?”
The voice asks, “Is someone else there with you?”
“Oh, uh,” Shuuichi suddenly looks slightly nervous. “Just a friend. Do you remember the other person who came in with Akamatsu-san and me the first time?”
“I… think I do,” Kiibo says. “Was he tall and wore his jacket strangely?”
Akamastu smiles, not noticing the scowl on Momota’s face. “That’s right. He knows about the other world, so he helps us with stuff on this side.”
“Oh?” Kiibo asks. “What are you doing on your side? I have to admit I am very curious.”
“Just waiting,” Yumeno says. “It’s really boring…”
“Oh, I see,” Kiibo says. “Do you need an extra person for that?”
Shuuichi immediately begins stuttering in Momota’s defense. “Ah, well, w-we’re just staking out a place right now, so, um…”
He goes on, and Momota stops listening to his hollow words.
Hours pass, and Akamatsu announces that she thinks they should call it a day. Momota sits on the sidewalk and stares at the sky fading to the darkness. “I’m gonna stick around for a while longer. Maybe see if the killer comes at night or something.”
“Okay…” Akamatsu says hesitantly. “But be careful, alright?”
Momota waves her off. “I can handle myself.”
Shuuichi says, “I think I’ll stay for a bit, too. I’ll call if anything happens.”
Akamatsu nods. “Alright. I don’t have my phone, so just call my cousin and ask for me. She’ll probably be a pain about it, but…”
Shuuichi smiles wryly. “I know. Honestly, I’ll probably try calling Chabashira-san first.”
“Then Tenko will wait by her phone,” Chabashira answers.
“I’ll stay at Chabashira’s tonight,” Yumeno says with a yawn. “That way I won’t have to… I dunno. Call on my own phone or something…”
The girls wave goodbye and Shuuichi waves back and Momota stares forward. When the sounds of their footsteps disappear, Shuuichi sits down next to him to stare out at the sunset unfolding over them. “I’m… sorry about today,” he says. “Kiibo-kun really didn’t mean what he said or… how it came out. I know it’s probably still frustrating, but…” he offers a sympathetic smile. “It’s just important that we keep everyone as safe as possible.”
Momota doesn’t look at him. “Hey, Shuuichi, I’m gonna be honest with you. Waiting around on my ass while you guys do everything is driving me fucking crazy. It’s just not like me to be stuck on the sidelines like this.”
Shuuichi winces. “I… um,” he hunches up his shoulders defensively. “You know it’s not like that on purpose, right?”
Momota sighs. “Whatever. My point is, I’m not giving in this time.” He glances back at Ouma’s house. “Sucks the person I’m saving isn’t a cute girl, though. Seems you get all the luck.”
There’s an unreadable expression on Shuuichi’s face as Momota grins at him. “Um, I don’t think Chabashira-san or Yumeno-san…” he frowns at the ground. “A-Anyways, I wouldn’t say what happened to me or to them was lucky. I know we’ve told you about what happens inside the other world, but actually experiencing it first hand is different.”
“So?” Momota asks. “You know me. I could handle it.”
Shuuichi takes too long to answer, and Momota repeats, “You know I could fucking handle it, right?”
“I’m sorry,” Shuuichi says. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but—”
“Then don’t fucking say it!” Momota shouts. Shuuichi flinches, and Momota immediately regrets his words. “I’m sorry, man. But—come on. You know where I’m coming from, right? I’m not the type of guy who just lets everyone else do all the work when people are in danger. That’s not what a man does.”
Shuuichi frowns at the ground. “No,” he says. “I guess it isn’t.”
They sit quietly and night surrounds them. Eventually Shuuichi stands. “I think we should go home now. It’s late, and our families are probably starting to get worried.”
Momota shakes his head. “Nah, my grandparents don’t mind even if I wander off for a few days. I’m gonna stick around. Maybe break into Ouma’s house.”
Shuuichi sighs. “I know I can’t stop you, but please think before you do anything reckless.”
Momota grins, standing as well. “Just doing what a man needs to do.”
Shuuichi gives him an odd smile. “You keep saying that.”
He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m just that kind of guy. And,” he looks back at Ouma’s house and slams his fists together. “I’m gonna save this brat even if it fucking kills both of us.”
“Please don’t say that,” Shuuichi says. “And I know Ouma-kun’s a pain, but I don’t think he has any friends so please try to get along with him if he does end up joining the team—”
“Ouma’s not joining shit,” Momota says. “‘Cause I’m gonna catch the killer before that happens. Still wish I was saving a cute girl instead but whatever.”
Shuuichi tries to smile. “Right. Goodnight, Momota-kun.”
-
Ouma opens the door before Momota knocks, looking up at him with a knowing smile as he says, “I knew it would be you.”
Momota rolls his eyes. “That’s cause I’ve been sitting out here all fucking day. Now let me in. I’ll just sleep on your couch or something.”
Ouma puffs out his cheeks. “Rude. You know, I don’t think I want to have a sleepover with you.”
“Not a fucking sleepover,” Momota says.
“Aww,” he starts sniffling. “But I wanted to braid each other’s hair and talk about cute boys, and—”
“Just fucking let me in,” Momota huffs.
“Fiiiine,” Ouma says, finally stepping aside. “I live alone, but don’t mess up any of my stuff, okay?”
Momota enters, glancing around the almost absurdly cluttered house. “You live here by yourself?” He glances at a pile of boxes. “And all this crap is yours?”
Ouma locks the door behind him. “Geeze. You’re so rude, Momota-chan. And yes and yes.” He frowns at him. “Don’t touch anything.”
“I’m not gonna touch your shit,” he says, casually walking through Ouma’s cramped house, Ouma trailing after him. “But you really live alone? What happened to your parents?”
Ouma pushes past him to open a door to a closet near bursting at the seams with boxes. “Like I said: rude!”
Momota rolls his eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me. I don’t really care.”
Ouma finishes shuffling through the boxes and produces a neon purple blanket that looks like it was knitted by someone attempting to do so for the first time. Ouma shoves it into Momota’s arms. “Here you go! You can sleep on the couch unless,” he places a hand on his heart. “You stayed all night because you wanted to—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Momota scowls, feeling heat creep up his neck. “If you say shit like that…”
Ouma’s eyes well up with tears. “B-But, I l-let you into my house, a-and first you reject me and th-then you start threatening me?” he starts rubbing at his eyes. “A-And here I thought you w-wanted to stay because you l-liked me, a-a-and—waaaah!”
He starts bawling loudly enough that Momota’s afraid his neighbors are going to call the police. “H-Hey! Stop that!” Ouma keeps crying, and Momota shakes his shoulders. “Knock it off, already! I’m fucking sorry, okay?”
“Y-You are?” Ouma asks, still trembling under his sobs.
“Yeah, sure,” Momota says. “I apologize for whatever you’re upset about.”
“Hmm, okay!” the tears vanish, and Ouma’s back to rocking back and forth on his feet, batting his eyelashes at him. “So anyway, you’re here to be my knight in shining armor, and protect me from the bad guys, right?”
Momota runs a hand over his face and prepares for what feels like the longest night of his life.
The next morning, Ouma remains unkidnapped and the smell of the burning breakfast he tries to make for them signals a new day. Ouma insists they eat together and cries until Momota gives in and forces down every smoldering ember Ouma says he lovingly prepared just for him. Halfway through a breakfast composed of Ouma batting his eyes at him, Momota realizes he literally cannot wait until the killer shows up.
-
At school, Momota rests his head on his desk and says, “What if the killer decides not to kidnap Ouma because he’s too annoying?”
“I take it you had a good time then,” Akamatsu laughs. “Did you really stay all night?”
“Worst decision of my life,” Momota groans. “He gave me this stupid thin blanket that I’m pretty sure he fucking made himself, and he cooked actual cinders for breakfast.”
She laughs again. “That’s actually pretty nice of him. I saw you guys walking to school together this morning. You were really cute.”
“Nothing about spending time with Ouma is fucking cute,” Momota grumbles.
Shuuichi gives him a comforting smile. “I’m not sure if you care, but Ouma-kun seemed pretty happy this morning, so he probably won’t mind if you try to stay over again tonight,” he says. He must know Momota’s about to protest, so he adds, “It’s really impressive how dedicated you are to this case.”
Akamatsu nods. “Mhmm. The fact that you’re going so far to save someone is really admirable, right Saihara-kun?”
“Right,” he says.
Momota knows what they’re trying to do and sighs.
At the end of the day, Ouma’s waiting outside the school gates, rocking back and forth on his heels. When Momota arrives, Shuuichi and Akamatsu exchange conspiratory looks and wave goodbye, leaving him to his fate.
Ouma says far louder than necessary, “Are we having another sleepover tonight, Momota-chan?”
Momota hisses, “keep it down. And,” he runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, probably.”
“Yay!” Ouma shouts and lunges to try to warp himself around one of Momota’s arms.
He dodges out of the way and uses his height advantage to hold Ouma back with one hand pressed against his forehead. “Knock it off with that shit,” he glances around to see if anybody’s stopped to stare. “Especially when other people are around. It was hard enough to show my face at school today after you made us walk here together.”
Ouma hums, “I think someone’s insecure about our relationship.”
“You know,” Momota says. “If the fucking killer doesn’t murder you, I might.”
They begin the walk back with Ouma already sniffling, and as Momota looks down at him, all he can think is he’s going to be damned if Ouma somehow gets to be a hero before him.
-
The afternoon seems to go even slower than the day before as Momota lounges on the ratty couch trying to watch TV while Ouma chatters nonstop next to him. Momota interrupts him to say, “You should get a cat or something.”
“Hmm,” Ouma says, short legs swinging. “Maybe I should, but it’d be alone all day when I’m at school.”
“Yeah, well,” Momota leans back into the couch. “You obviously need someone to talk at.”
Ouma looks at him blankly, then stands and starts heading towards his tiny kitchen, sticking his tongue out at him on the way there. “I’m gonna make tea, and you can’t have any.”
Momota rolls his eyes, and then hears a knock on the door.
Ouma rushes by him, a half full kettle of water in his hands. “I’ll get it!”
Momota stands, slowly moving after him as he rushes to the door, asking, “You get visitors a lot?”
“Nope!” Ouma says.
Ouma opens the door, and Momota watches as two gloved hands jolt forward, one pressing a rag to Ouma’s face, the other gripping the back of his head to stop him from pulling away.
The kettle of water clatters to the ground as Ouma struggles in his attacker’s grasp, and Momota’s feet are moving before he can think, slipping through the puddle in his most heroic moment.
And even though barely seconds have passed, Ouma’s already falling limply to the ground as Momota surges forward to catch him, wrenching his body out of the culprit’s grip.
Momota’s holding him close to his chest, and thinks, ‘I’m finally going to be a hero.’ He looks up and sees two gloved hands coming at him armed with a rag. He tries to move back without letting go of Ouma but slips again in the water and the hands are still coming towards him
And then he wakes up in a weird foggy place with Ouma lying unconscious next to him. Momota looks around and remembers visiting somewhere just like this when Akamatsu became a hero.
He feels absolutely exhausted, and even though there’s a pounding in his head that hurts like hell, and he’s heard the others go on and on and on about how dangerous it is, Momota lets out a laugh of joy because it’s finally his moment.
His excitement aside, the first thing Momota does is check to make sure Ouma’s still breathing. His chest rises and falls evenly, but Momota checks his pulse and listens to his heartbeat just in case. He waits a few more minutes but assumes Ouma’s small stature likely means whatever chemicals they were forced to smell had a stronger affect on him.
Growing impatient, Momota hauls Ouma onto his shoulders—mildly concerned about leaving him alone—draping his skinny arms around his neck, and letting his head loll forward to press itself against his shoulder.
Ouma weighs worryingly little, but Momota finds himself thankful for it as he almost forgets the smaller boy is there as he wanders the fog covered landscape. He sees strange shapes moving just out of the corner of his eye, but none approach, even as Momota takes to calling out, “Robot guy! Key-whatever! Need your help!”
Momota walks for what feels like hours. The pounding in his head only increases, and every part of his body starts to feel heavier and sluggish. It’s only when Ouma starts to stir that he stops looking for whatever will give him the same power as the others.
Ouma’s still obviously out of it when he starts rubbing at his eyes, mumbling, “My head hurts…”
Momota snorts and decides to keep moving. “Bet it does. Apparently this place’ll do that to you the first time or something. Shuuichi and the others said that humans aren’t supposed to be here, so you need special glasses and stuff to get around without feeling like shit.”
“What…” Ouma seems genuinely confused for perhaps the first time Momota has ever seen. “What are you talking about?” He looks around them, finally taking in their surroundings, and Momota feels him cling a little tighter to his shoulders. “Where are we?”
“Inside the TV,” Momota answers. “The fucking killer probably shoved us in here, but we’ll be fine. The others’ll come help us and soon as we find shadow me, I can kick ass and get us out of here.”
Ouma groans, pressing his face into the back of Momota’s head. “I’ve been awake for five minutes, and Momota-chan’s already losing his mind. What am I going to do?”
“You can shut up,” Momota says. “My head feels like shit enough as it is. If you wanna make yourself useful, look around for a guy who looks like me except is glow-y and has yellow eyes and stuff.” He hums. “I wonder what weird outfit he’s wearing—probably something really cool.”
Ouma lets out another whining noise and wraps his arms tighter around Momota’s neck. They walk in silence for a few minutes until Ouma says, “Hey did you turn off my TV before you miserably failed trying to stop me from being kidnapped?”
“Uh,” Momota says. “I can’t remember.”
Ouma puffs out his cheeks. “You’re paying my electricity bill when Saihara-chan and the others rescue us.”
Momota rolls his eyes and keeps walking through the deep fog, the very world reaching into his mind as it builds walls up slowly around them.
-
In the real world, Shuuichi discovers Momota had left the TV on when he decides to stop by Ouma’s house just before dark to make sure the two haven’t killed each other.
Discovering the front door was unlocked after his knocks had gone unanswered had caused Shuuichi’s blood to run cold. Pushing the door open to see water splashed on the floor and the TV mindlessly playing commercials to an empty couch had been enough for him to panic into almost calling the police. But he remembers this is all on them, and Shuuichi fumbles with his phone with trembling fingers until he finds Akamatsu’s number.
Kiibo sounds far too happy when he picks up. “Hello! Akamatsu-san’s phone tells me this is Saihara-kun. Is that correct?”
“Y-Yes, it’s me,” Shuuichi stutters. “Um, but Kiibo-kun, I need you to, um—do you sense anyone else in that world? Maybe two people?”
“Give me one moment,” Kiibo says. Shuuichi paces around Ouma’s disturbingly quiet house as the weather channel plays, telling him it should rain tomorrow night but let up by morning. No fog. Finally Kiibo responds, “Saihara-kun! There are two people here! How did you know?”
“I’ll explain later, but right now I’m going to gather everyone and we’ll meet you there soon,” he says. “I know your persona doesn’t fight, but please do everything you can to make sure they stay safe, okay?”
“I will do my best!” Kiibo says. Akamatsu’s phone goes silent in his hands, and Kiibo lets himself focus on the vast, foggy void surrounding him.
-
Momota’s head is hurting worse and worse, and when Ouma starts to feel heavy he decides to take a break. The world around them has formed enough to create rooms off to the sides in the strange, twisting maze lined with movie posters and curtains entrapping them. He kneels down outside a door labeled ‘backstage,’ mumbling, “Get off. Don’t know why I was even carrying you for so long…”
Ouma finally lets go and staggers to his feet as Momota stands to stretch his back out. “I’m not complaining,” Ouma says brightly in spite of how badly Momota knows his head must be hurting. “You were a very good pack mule, Momota-chan.”
He just sighs in response and pushes the door before them open. “We’re resting in here for a while. Make sure nothing fucking tries to kill me while I take a nap.”
Ouma skips after him. “Ah, so you’ve been seeing all the monsters lurking around, too, huh, Momota-chan?”
“I knew they would be here,” he says. “They’re called shadows and they’re, like, repressed human desires or something? I don’t remember how Shuuichi explained it, but,” he smirks as he settles down against the far wall of the room, “these things are small fries. What we need to find are the big ones that look like us.”
Ouma sits next to him, stretching his short legs out in front of him. “I have one, too?” he asks, actually curious in his question.
Momota snorts. “‘Course you do. This place we’re in is because of your repressed shit.”
“Soooo,” Ouma looks around at the room, spying the spotlights dangling haphazardly from the ceiling and the strange cardboard cutout props that are littered about. “This is all me. And not you.”
“Duh.”
“Because,” he says. “You’re not repressing anything? Nothing that would have to do with movies or film studios or playing the hero—”
“Look,” Momota snaps. “You were the fucking target, so this place belongs to you. End of story.”
Ouma watches him for a moment, then hugs his knees to his chest, saying, “But shadow you is still going to show up anyway?” he smirks. “Make a cameo appearance?”
Momota nods firmly. “It is.”
“I see,” Ouma hums. “I wonder if shadow you and shadow me are friends since it looks like they’re roommates.” He smiles. “Or maybe they’re just having a sleepover like we did last night! Then they’d really be shadowing us, huh?”
Momota runs a hand over his face. “Are you gonna shut up and actually let me sleep or not?”
“Fine, fine,” he says. “I’ll keep watch. Let the big hero have his nap.”
Momota growls and lightly punches Ouma in the arm. “I told you to shut up.”
He’s half expecting him to burst into tears, but instead Ouma just smirks at him. “I’ll be quiet, Momota-chan. After all, I probably need a little more time to sort out my issues so I won’t have anything to repress like you.”
Momota glares at him, but their conversation is over and he manages to start to drift to sleep just out of range of the slowly sweeping spotlights. Ouma hugs his knees, and leans his head against Momota’s arm, and watches as monsters slither in and out of the shadows cast by large hanging curtains or stock backdrops.
As irritating as Ouma’s yapping and insults have been on top of his headache, Momota doesn’t move away from him. After waiting for so long, he’s not afraid in the slightest about whatever might be thrown at him, so he knows it’s not for comfort. But it’s nice in a weird way. Momota looks down at him and decides that Ouma must be scared and he’s protecting him. He’s just being Ouma’s hero. It’s his last thought before he drifts off to sleep, and it seems completely normal.
Ouma’s thoughts are different. The fact that they’re in a demented movie set is clear enough, and Ouma looks back up at Momota’s exhausted, sleeping face and wonders which of them is the better actor.
-
They stand around Kiibo, his persona hovering over him and displaying glowing holographic screens busy with information speeding across them. “I checked earlier, and I can still confirm that there are definitely two people here. I also believe they are together.”
“That’s good for us,” Akamatsu says. “We can just rescue them both in one sweep, right?”
Kiibo frowns. “Ideally that would be so, but I have never seen two humans come into this world together for an extended period before. I can only guess what structure their shared psyches will produce.”
Shuuichi says, “If you need any help finding them, I can give you any information you need. Ouma-kun… likes to keep himself a mystery, but I’ve known Momota-kun for years.”
Kiibo nods. “Thank you for your assistance. I will do my best to locate them soon.”
“We still have a while though, right?” Yumeno asks. “It’s not supposed to get foggy for like over a week or something.”
“Ah, I know,” Shuuichi says. “But I would prefer to save them as soon as possible. I…” he looks at the ground. “I’ve known Momota-kun since we were in elementary school, and I don’t know what his shadow is but I have a feeling it’s going to be really bad.” He bites his lip. “Um, don’t tell him I told you that.”
Akamatsu places a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re just worried.”
“Even if we do not reach them today,” Chabashira says. “We should still be able to see what their shadows are on the midnight channel. Tenko checked the weather report before she came, and it is supposed to rain tonight.”
“Right,” Akamatsu says. “So for now, let’s just see if we can scope out where they are, and then we can get a look at their shadows tonight.”
Yumeno places a finger on her lower lip. “Hey, what do you think the midnight channel’s like when there’re two people in here?”
Shuuichi sighs. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out.”
And Kiibo suddenly shouts, “Got it! There is a very large new structure,” he points off into the distance, “That way!”
“Then let’s go,” Akamatsu says. “The sooner we get them out of here the better.”
Kiibo nods. “I agree, however, I believe it would be wise to prepare even more so than usual. Like I said, this new structure is big—much bigger than Chabashira-san’s or Yumeno-san’s.”
Shuuichi clenches his jaw. “If everyone’s ready, I would like to go now, then.”
“I agree,” Akamatsu says. “If we’re up against two shadows, we’re probably going to need every second we have.”
Her assessment turns out to be far truer than Shuuichi would have hoped. It’s Yumeno’s first time using her persona in battle, and though the abilities come naturally to her as they would for anyone else, she still stumbles here and there in combat and tires easily after using too many spells. Even if she had more practice, Shuuichi thinks this place could wear anyone out. He had felt his heartbeat pick up at the sight of the distorted film lot, and the scenery inside changes so fast from one set piece to another that it all blurs together until he isn’t even sure what he’s looking at.
What worries Shuuichi the most, however, is the announcer. It’s clearly Momota, and Shuuichi feels his heart ache for him more and more with every distorted message.
When they first arrived it had said, “Welcome, one and all! Welcome to the Great—what? There’s only five of you? No one else showed up? No one… I guess that makes sense.”
Akamatsu immediately told the group they were going as far as they could today. Shuuichi quietly thanked her and internally thanked her again whenever Momota’s voice would come, mumbling to itself. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I just need to be stronger… why is everyone always so much stronger?”
Their own voices chime in every so often, each of them saying the things Shuuichi remembers so well about needing to keep Momota safe, how he didn’t really get what it was like, how it was better for him to just let them handle it. At a break Akamatsu says, “don’t let it get to you. These are just Momota-kun’s feelings going berserk. It’s blowing everything way out of proportion.”
“I have a question,” Yumeno says. “Not that I really want to, but why haven’t we heard anything from Ouma?”
“That’s a good question,” Akamatsu says. “I wonder…”
Before they can speculate more, there’s a softer musing. “Why him? Why am I stuck saving him? I wish he was… I don’t know. I don’t know…”
Yumeno frowns. “I don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore.”
Shuuichi bites his lip. He has a feeling he knows. The longer they go on, the more protective he starts to feel, and he has to apologize for snapping at Kiibo when he attempts to speculate on what Momota’s shadow could be talking about.
The whole situation makes Shuuichi think about the nature of shadows far more than he had even when confronted with his own. There are effectively strangers romping through the landscape of his best friend’s raw emotions, and Shuuichi spends too much of their journey debating if he should slip away without telling the others one afternoon and try to take on Momota’s shadow alone. A well timed speech from Akamatsu after a rough encounter puts his thoughts to rest. He wouldn’t survive without the others, and then Momota would be dead. Shuuichi winces when he barely remembers to tack on, ‘and Ouma-kun, too,’ to that statement.
When they finally have to call it quits, they’ve seen nothing of either of the two shadows that must be lurking about. From the quiet giggling that keeps going in and out of Shuuichi’s range of hearing, however, he does know Ouma’s hiding somewhere. Akamatsu’s ears are better, and she says, “Ouma-kun keeps whispering, but I can’t make out any of the words. It’s like he wants my attention and then just mumbles nonsense.”
Shuuichi admits he doesn’t know Ouma as well and decides that’s a mystery he’ll have to puzzle out when they actually pin down his shadow.
The midnight channel says a lot and also almost nothing. There’s a flurry of movement, fists punching, legs striking, flips and cartwheels made all the more dramatic by flaring capes. And everything is punctuated by larger than life sound effects. It’s like something out of a children’s action cartoon. A title card appears announcing it’s apparently the ultimate showdown between the hero and the villain.
-
Ouma must have fallen asleep at some point, too, Momota realizes when he finally wakes up. He has no idea how much time has passed—or how time even works inside this place—and his thoughts on the matter are only half formed as he nearly jumps out of his skin.
Ouma is crouched a bit too close, staring at him. The huge yellow eyes give it away, but Momota glances down just for a second to check that the real Ouma is still sleeping peacefully at his side. Momota clears his throat, “Uh, you’re…”
Ouma’s shadow’s stare is unrelenting. Finding his own shadow was going to be one thing, but Momota vaguely realizes he didn’t really have a plan for encountering Ouma’s first. “You’re a shadow, right?” he tries.
“I don’t know what I am,” he answers, and then tilts his head unnaturally fast. “Do you know?”
Momota really wants to wake Ouma up to make him deal with this thing, but he also knows that he came into the TV to protect Ouma. Momota still gives Ouma a meaningful enough glance that the shadow hisses, “Don’t wake me up. I just wanted to see myself. I wanted to see what I look like to everyone else.”
Shuuichi had told him that your shadow says all of the thoughts you had been repressing—everything you knew was there but couldn’t bear to admit. Momota realizes this is a one of few opportunities to learn something about Ouma without hearing “it’s a lie!” every five seconds. He also remembers Shuuichi said that shadows have a habit of going berserk and trying to kill their hosts.
Momota does his best to place himself between Ouma and his shadow. “So,” he says, trying to choose his words carefully. “You’re on the outside now… because of whatever fucked up shit is going on. What do you think?”
The shadow does seem to consider his words. It tries to get closer to Ouma, and Momota pushes his sleeping form behind him. The shadow’s eyes flick rapidly to him. “I don’t understand. You shouldn’t be here.”
A distant crashing sound echoes around them, and the shadow jerks to its feet, running away without another word of acknowledgement. Momota calls after it, “Hey wait! Have you seen—”
His yelling does nothing but wake Ouma up, who grumbles and doesn’t look half as cheerful as usual. “Why are you screaming?” he whines. “My head hurts…”
“There was just—” Momota looks back at him. The hair on the side of Ouma’s head that had been pressed against his shoulder is lying almost flat while the other side springs out like usual. Momota can’t help but laugh. “Morning.”
Ouma frowns in confusion. “What are you smiling about? You better not be making fun of me.”
“Don’t worry,” Momota says. “Just… that’s a good look for you.”
Ouma figures it out, hands flying to start fixing his hair while he sniffles about how mean Momota is.
Perhaps it’s the contrast with the strange, wide eyed Ouma who didn’t seem to blink enough, but the sight of the real Ouma mussing his hair back into shape is somehow comforting. He knows all the previous victims had faced the TV world alone, and though he doesn’t plan to say it aloud, Momota can’t help but be slightly grateful for Ouma’s presence.
It’s only when they get up to start wandering again that Momota realizes he should probably tell Ouma about his encounter. “Oh, by the way, while you were sleeping, your shadow came by.”
“Oh, yeah, you mentioned shadow something earlier,” Ouma says, taking the information easily.
He doesn’t ask any follow up questions, which only makes Momota more eager to elaborate. “It wasn’t dressed up too weird or anything—just wearing, like, a slightly plainer uniform. And it just said some stuff about wanting to see you from the outside. Don’t worry—I didn’t let it do anything, though.”
Ouma smirks up at him. “My hero.”
“You could say thank you, you know,” Momota says, suddenly finding himself feeling irritable again.
“Why would I?” Ouma says. “I was unconscious, so I don’t even know what I would be thanking you for. And that means if I applauded my wonderful, dashing hero for saving me from the evil monster, it would just be a lie!”
Momota scowls. He immediately questions his decision to be grateful for Ouma’s presence. But that’s not important right now. There was a loud crash somewhere, and Momota figures that if shadow Ouma ran towards it, they should too. “Just shut up and follow me.”
“No piggyback ride today?” Ouma asks with a pout.
“Not unless you fall and break your ankle.”
“Ooh, but if I do that, then my hero will swoop in and save me!”
“If you hurt yourself on purpose, I’m not helping you.”
“W-Why are you being so mean to meeee?”
Momota’s shadow remains elusive, and Ouma’s seems to be avoiding them as well. However, Momota makes an effort to pretend he doesn’t start to hear disturbingly familiar voices or see objects he recognizes from his real life scattered throughout the twisting halls. In light of their situation, Ouma’s constant babbling is a relief rather an annoyance. Momota stays on the lookout for his shadow but keeps one eye on Ouma at all times.
A voice that sounds like it’s speaking directly into his ear hisses at him, “who’s protecting who?”
Momota snaps to look at Ouma, who only pauses in his rambling to react to his jerky movements. “Momota-chan, I know I’m very cute, but you should look forward while you’re walking. Actually don’t! It’d be really funny to see you walk into a wall.”
Ouma giggles to himself as Momota mumbles at him to shut up. Either Ouma didn’t hear the voice or he’s lying for Momota’s sake. Both possibilities make Momota’s throat tighten, and he forces himself not to look back anymore.
If his only companion suddenly disappeared, he wouldn’t be scared. He’d run off to go find them for their sake.
There’s too much nothing happening for Momota to easily get away from his thoughts. The exhaustion hanging over him causes them to take more breaks than he knows they should, but at the same time, he has a feeling they’d solidly get nowhere even if they managed to cover miles.
Ouma doesn’t seem to mind whether they walk or sit. He just keeps going on and on about nothing. Momota leans his head against a wall, and says, “you remember when I mentioned that cat thing? I think you should seriously look into it when we get out of here.”
Ouma puffs out his cheeks. “Do you really want me to be a crazy cat lady that badly? I mean maybe in five years, sure, but right now I’m so young and full of—”
“You just really seem like you need someone to talk at,” Momota says, knowing he’s repeating himself from earlier.
“Well, excuse me for trying to have a good time while I’m being kidnapped,” Ouma says. “I’m sorry I can’t just mope like you.”
Ouma sticks his tongue out. Momota rolls his eyes. “I’m not moping. I’m staying on guard. Your shadow snuck up on us when we were sleeping earlier, and we can’t let that happen again.”
“But shadow me didn’t do anything,” Ouma says. “Honestly, I cannot tell you how disappointing that is. I was really hoping it would confess some deep dark secret like my forbidden crush on you.”
Momota scowls. “I’m being serious, asshole.”
“And I’m being serious, too!” Ouma says. “Didn’t you say the whole point of a shadow was that it reveals all of your dirty laundry? Doesn’t that sound so exciting? I can’t wait to hear all of Momota-chan’s embarrassing secrets.”
“Well then you’re going to be disappointed because I don’t have any secrets,” Momota says. “I’m not like you.”
Ouma raises an eyebrow at him. “In what way?”
“Huh?”
“In what way are you different from me?” Ouma presses. “It’s the lying, right? Ooh, or maybe something about being selfish? Or about how I must be oh-so needy and lonely because I can’t shut up, right?”
Momota knows he doesn’t like where Ouma’s going even if he has no idea what he intends the conversation’s destination to be. “I’m not—”
“Oh, wait I know,” Ouma says. “You said my shadow wanted to see me from the outside, right? Well, that has to be the difference! You don’t worry about that kind of thing.”
“No,” Momota snaps. “I don’t. And just,” he throws his hands in the air, “what the hell is this anyway?”
“A lovely conversation between me and my dear Momota-chan.”
Momota narrows his eyes, and his, “shut up,” comes out significantly more dulled than it should.
“But I don’t want to,” Ouma says. “You told me the whole point of this creepy place was to talk about our secrets, but you keep getting mad at me when I try to play the game.” He childishly stomps his feet. “And this game isn’t any fun if I’m the only one playing.”
Momota rolls his eyes. “It’s not a game.”
“You’re missing the point,” Ouma sighs. “And here I am, offering to let you play on easy mode, and how is my kindness repaid?”
Ouma keeps going on his increasingly bizarre tangent. Momota tunes him out and turns over the few words he said that seemed to have any actual meaning. It takes him an embarrassingly long amount of time to interrupt Ouma with, “hey, wait a minute. Are you trying to share stuff with me so when you see your shadow it’ll—”
“I already told you what I’m doing, Momota-chan,” Ouma says, hopping to his feet. “I’m just trying to have a good time.”
He holds his arms out to his sides like airplane wings and runs down the hallway. Momota’s eyes widen at his departure, and he’s on his feet in seconds after him, shouting at Ouma not to run off on his own.
The same voice—his own voice, Momota’s realized—starts to whisper, “who’s protecting—” and Momota pushes himself to run faster.
His running only leads him to an open room and the frantic conclusion that he has lost Ouma. The world must have twisted them away from each other, and Momota’s heart slams in his chest with every beat.
The exhaustion from his run, the world, and his panic do nothing to help. The whispering from before seems to get louder. More voices join in until Momota can’t make out any of them as they all fight to be heard. It becomes so deafening that Momota can barely hear his own hoarse voice as he calls out Ouma’s name.
He knows there is no way he’d be able to hear Ouma shout back, but he keeps looking and calling until he passes out on his feet.
-
Momota wakes up to a pair of yellow eyes. He doesn’t jump at the shadow’s presence this time, and waking up in the strange world feels uncomfortably normal. His head still hurts, and Ouma’s shadow passively watches him as he takes his time to cradle his head and curse.
It’s quiet now. It’s strange being around any version of Ouma and having quiet. Momota and his throbbing headache take a second to relish in it before rubbing the back of his head. “What do you want this time?”
The silence of the shadow is somehow even more frustrating than the noisiness of Ouma’s existence. Momota presses, “Isn’t your job to bother Ouma? Wait—actually do you know where the hell he is?”
“You’re still looking,” it says.
“Uh, yeah?” Momota says. “Can’t let you get yourself killed.”
“Why not?”
Momota gapes at the question. “Uh, because—what do you mean ‘why not?’ You’re an asshole, but I don’t want you dead.” The shadow stares owlishly at his response. Momota’s eyes widen in turn. “Wait, fuck, you’re Ouma’s inner thoughts, so—”
“Whatever you’re thinking is wrong,” the shadow says dismissively checking its nails, finally acting as Ouma as it looks. “I know me, so I’m not interested in hearing about me. I want to know what you know about me.” It smirks at him. “Even though it’s not much.”
Momota knows it’s true, but he can’t help but feel offended at the lilting tone. “Hey! I know stuff about you!”
“Then where am I?”
“I—I asked you that first!”
“You did. Very good job.”
Momota opens his mouth to yell back and barely catches what he’s doing in time. “You know what? Fuck you. If I’m gonna waste my time arguing, it’s gonna be with the real Ouma.”
With his declaration, Momota pulls himself to his feet and begins to proudly storm off in a random direction. The shadow tails him, whining all the way. “But I am the real Ouma!”
“You’re annoying enough to be him.”
Ouma’s shadow starts to cry, then laugh, then cry again. Its personality changes even faster than Ouma’s, spinning like a roulette wheel and making Momota dizzy. The shadow does skip a few paces ahead of him, however, and Momota gets the distinct feeling it knows where it’s going.
The concept of time has long since abandoned him when he first woke up to the point where Momota isn’t sure if it’s been minutes or days when the shadow pauses in front of a large set of doors.
There’s a little electric light on that says: “Filming in Progress” that causes a knot to form in Momota’s stomach. He casts a wary gaze over Ouma’s shadow even though its face is more devoid of emotion than Ouma’s could ever be. Momota swallows. Either Ouma’s in danger or he’s about to be.
Ouma is on his knees, staring off into space, when Momota pushes up the door. “Ouma!” Momota shouts, running over to him, the shadow at his side as if it’s concerned, too. “Why the hell did you run off like that!? Something could have attacked you, or—”
“I know Ouma-kun’s a pain, but I don’t think he has any friends so please try to get along with him.”
Momota blinks. “Shuuichi?”
More voices chime in.
“Don’t you get it? No one wants to be around you!”
“He lives alone? Makes sense. I know if I were his parents, I’d—”
“Don’t worry about what that report said. He was in a cult, but they all abandoned him, so he can’t do anything dangerous now.”
“You’re alone, and you always will—”
“Hey!” Momota shouts. “Shut up!”
Oddly enough, they follow his command, and suddenly the room is filled with too much silence. Momota hurries to Ouma’s side. He’s ready to rush his words of comfort, but stops short at the sight of Ouma’s smirk. “My hero.”
Momota sighs. “Whatever. Anyway, what the fuck were you thinking running—”
There are sobs behind him. “Th-That wasn’t a lie.” Ouma stiffens at the voice but remains rooted in place, leaving only Momota to glance over his shoulder at the weeping shadow, trying and failing to wipe away the tears running down its face. “Y-You came after me. I-I did everything I could, and you still c-came after me.”
The shadow takes a few steps forward, until it’s kneeling in front of Momota, too. “I’m too horrible for anyone to actually stay with me,” it says. “I can handle being alone or being hated, but… I’m terrified of being betrayed. S-So everyone needs to stay from me. I’d rather suffer on my own than be lied to like that.”
Ouma sighs as he turns to face the weeping shadow. “So this is what you were talking about, huh? All of my inner somethings?”
“Everything we’ve been lying about,” the shadow says. “Like how even though we know it’s impossible, we want so badly for someone to see the real us. But it will never happen, so we get frustrated and drive them away ourselves. It doesn’t hurt when we make them leave like it does when they get bored and give up on their own.”
Ouma seems remarkably calm, all things considered, but Momota still places a hand on his shoulder. “Momota-chan, before you say anything—”
“Hey, I shouldn’t have said that stuff to you earlier,” Momota says. “All that crap about how you were being annoying? I wasn’t thinking straight, and I’m not just going to leave because you’re a little hard to be around sometimes.”
Momota squeezes his shoulder. Ouma rolls his eyes. “You don’t get it.”
“Well, yeah, not everything. I’m not you,” Momota says. “But I came, right? I promised I was gonna protect you, and I’m not backing down on that. And, hell, I wasn’t thinking about this before, but after going through all this shit, there’s no way we’re not gonna be friends after this, you know?”
Momota’s comfort doesn’t have the effect he assumed it would. The shadow’s voice isn’t warbling with tears anymore. “I said you don’t get it.”
Instead of the muted uniform it had been wearing before, Ouma’s shadow now looks like some sort of comic book villain. “No one can understand me because I made myself that way. I keep lying and changing and pushing because I know if anyone solves the mystery, the only thing they’ll figure out is that there is no real me.”
Ouma closes his eyes. “Sure know how to keep a guy waiting, huh?”
The shadow draws to its feet, and more shadows appear from it, each resembling Ouma wearing some twisted version of his usual range of emotions. “I can’t just stop lying and show you the real me because there is no truth to uncover. But I’m selfish, and I want someone to find it for me anyway, even though as soon as they do, I know I’ll be too scared and change myself again. Of course, that’ll never happen because there’s nothing under whatever mask I’m wearing.”
The shadows are surrounding them now. Ouma lets out a very quiet sigh. Momota’s eyes flicker over his passive expression and his hands draw up into fists.
The shadow keeps talking. “I always go on and on about how much I hate lying to myself, but if I didn’t, there would be no me. It’s not just because I’m pathetic, either. Sure, I come up with a new lie every time I get hurt or feel abandoned—if I lie up a stronger version of myself, then whatever happened before doesn’t matter, does it? But it’s reached the point where even if I wanted to, it’s impossible. There is no saving me from myself. I’ll always be afraid, and I’ll always be alone, and I’ll never even know who I really am, and that’s just the way it—”
Momota’s fist collides with the shadow’s jaw, sending its small form reeling back. “Shut the hell up!” All of the other shadows retreat away into nothing. Momota pivots on his heel to stare down at Ouma. “What’s wrong with you? You’re just going to take that?”
It’s the first thing to catch Ouma off guard since his shadow appeared. “Momota-chan? Did you just—”
“Yeah, you’re fucking annoying as hell and you lie all the time for no goddamn reason! So!?” Momota barks. “You sound like you already know what your enemy is, so why are you doing nothing about it!?”
Ouma’s eyes narrow. “Weren’t you the one who said you have to accept your shadow?”
Momota shakes his head, calming down a little. “That’s not what I’m saying. You’re scared of a lot of things, and that’s fine. What pisses me off is that you’ve decided it’s hopeless, so you’re not even going to try and do better.”
Ouma looks away from him and towards his shadow, who has gone back to its plain appearance and is staring blandly back. “Sorry I don’t live up to your expectations, then.”
“Look,” Momota says. “I don’t know you, and,” he gestures vaguely at Ouma’s shadow, “seems like that’s for a reason, apparently. I don’t think that thing is lying, but just… don’t give up on yourself. Feeling left behind sucks a lot, but if you stop trying, you’re just going to feel worse. Because an opportunity to catch up might come along, and even if it’s not perfect, you know you need to make it work, and you can’t do that if…”
Ouma and his shadow are both staring at him unblinkingly. Whatever heroic high he had been riding drains out of him in favor of self consciousness. Momota rubs the back of his head. “You know what I mean, right?”
Ouma’s eyes shift off of him to something slightly to his left. It’s Momota’s only warning before he hears his own voice. “They probably don’t, but I do.”
Momota whirls around, coming face to face with himself. “Hey, I’ve been looking for—”
“I know,” it says. “I am you, after all.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Momota says, voice a touch too eager. “Shuuichi didn’t really go too much into the details, but you’re me and all of that crap. Alright,” he turns back to Ouma with a beaming smile and a thumbs up. “Just give me like five minutes, and I’ll get us out of here.”
Ouma’s expression isn’t nearly as confident as Momota expected it to be. “Are you sure?” his voice is a bit weaker than before, but his incredulousness comes through loud and clear. “What’s your…”
Momota turns to where Ouma’s looking now, and sees his shadow approach Ouma’s. Momota’s shadow brushes its fingers gently over where Momota had punched Ouma’s, and its voice is low as it murmurs, “hurt the person I was trying to save. That sounds like me…”
Its hand lingers. Neither shadow seems disturbed, but Momota can’t help but feel a flash of embarrassed heat surge through him at the action, especially when Ouma calls from behind him, “uh, Momota-chan?”
“Alright, stop fucking—” Momota marches across the room, wrenching his shadow away from Ouma’s. “Just—that’s not important. Okay, look, I’m listening. Tell me what I need to do to get whatever power Shuuichi and the others have and—”
“I’m glad you’re admitting it,” his shadow says. “Makes my life easier.”
Momota blinks at it, and the unsettling demeanor he had brushed off before sends a chill down the back of his neck. “Admit… what?”
“The real reason you came here,” the shadow says. “Saving the damsel in distress is a pretty nice bonus prize, but really it’s just a happy coincidence. Actually, two birds with one stone. Catch up to everyone else and pat yourself on the back for being a hero.”
Momota clenches his jaw as he remembers when Shuuichi said to him about shadows again. “Okay, yeah, I like helping people, and there’s nothing wrong with being proud of yourself for doing a good thing. And when you shut up and turn into a person-thing, I can help even more people.”
“Why do you do good things?” the shadow asks. “I mean, I already know the answer, since I’m you and all. I’ve never been that great at introspection stuff, so I guess I should come out and say it. There’s a reason why I introduce myself by giving out as many titles as I can think of. If I say I’m a hero enough, then it doesn’t actually matter that I always fail, right?”
Momota barely catches himself from biting back. He knows he has to accept it. His eyes flicker to anywhere other than his own sneering face, and Momota grimaces when he remembers Ouma is watching everything. His shadow notices, too. “Fuck, this is embarrassing with an audience, huh?” it laughs. “But honestly? It doesn’t really matter. I try so hard, but everyone thinks I’m a joke anyway. They all think I’m useless and an idiot, and every time Shuuichi does something better than me, they just get more proof that they don’t need me.”
Invoking Shuuichi’s name ruins any control Momota had over the situation. He shoves at his shadow, shouting, “Shut up!”
“I want to!” it yells back. “I’m not happy being jealous of everyone and everything around me! But when everyone acts like I can’t do anything right, what the hell else am I supposed to do!? The only thing I can do for Shuuichi is be his cheerleader and hope he lets me keep leeching off of him.”
“I said to shut the fuck up!”
“Because he doesn’t need me anymore! Hell, I liked it when he was struggling—I liked when he depended on me. And as long as Shuuichi needed me, I never had to deal with any of this stuff. He’s the one who has problems, he’s the one who struggles. Not me. It doesn’t matter if I’m a failure as a man and a person as long as I have—”
Momota sees red. He raises his fist again and is confused for half a second why it only gets so far in its arc to punching the smug look off his shadow’s face. Ouma’s obviously struggling to hold his arm back but manages to hiss out, “if you do that, it’ll go crazy and attack, idiot.”
His words pierce through Momota’s veil of anger just long enough for his shadow to laugh. “Wow, I was supposed to have the leg up on Ouma, and he can already handle himself better here. Oh well,” the shadow shrugs. “He already figured out how weak I am, and he knows he’s just being used as a convenient excuse to be a hero anyway.”
Momota lowers his fist and trips over his words as he stutters to Ouma, “I-I don’t feel that way.”
“Still, I can’t be vulnerable or ask for help because I’m supposed to be the hero,” shadow Momota says. “If I let them all know how weak I am, then they’d fall apart because they’re depending on me.” The shadow smirks. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense altogether, does it? Does everyone depend on me or am I completely useless? Well, I guess that’s what happens when you’re stuck fighting your own inferiority complex.”
The shadow seems like it’s finally done and casts its judging eyes over him. “So what do you think about all that, me?”
Even as he stands still, Momota feels like he just ran a marathon from the surge of adrenaline rushing through him. He looks at his shadow and back down to Ouma still holding him back.
Momota doesn’t think. His hand grips Ouma’s tight, and he doesn’t pause in his sprint even when Ouma stumbles the first few steps. His shadow is laughing, its voice carrying after them as Momota bursts back out through the doors and down the twisting hallways.
With his shorter strides, Ouma is obviously having trouble keeping up, but Momota can barely hear his calls to slow down over all the ugly words playing over and over again in his head.
Ouma stops whining when they finally do pause. Momota is both grateful and livid at how silent Ouma stays while he wipes away his angry tears on the back of his sleeves with violent movements. Ouma is passively staring at him when he finishes. Momota wants to yell at him and beg for him not to tell anyone else what he just saw.
He doesn’t end up doing either. “The—the shit that thing said about helping you,” he says, half breathless. “You know that’s not true. I really did mean everything I said before, and I want to…” Momota swallows, taking in Ouma’s furrowed brow. “I want to help. Whatever you’re going through, you shouldn’t do it alone. I,” he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck. I know from experience what happens when you try to—”
He cuts himself off when he notices his own shadow flickering to life inches behind Ouma.
Ouma lets out an undignified yelp when Momota scrambles to step between him and the shadow. The shadow doesn’t get the chance to say anything as Momota spits at it, “You—you need to shut up and get the fuck away from us.”
Distantly, there are stampeding feet as a crowd of people run towards them. Momota doesn’t hear them. His shadow says, “I can’t leave. I’m you, after—”
“No, you’re not!” Momota shouts.
Somewhere, far beyond Momota’s current circle of awareness, Shuuichi yells, “Don’t say it!”
“You’re not me!”
The shadow laughs as energy swarms around it. Momota’s world goes dark, and Ouma struggles as his body collapses onto him.
-
Their rescue party jumps straight into battle. Someone shouts, “Kiibo-kun, keep Momota-kun and Ouma-kun safe!” and then the funniest looking robot thing Ouma has ever seen is standing near him.
Kiibo offers a few words of condolence for how confused Ouma must be. The fact that Momota’s shadow has transformed into a towering abomination does confuse Ouma quite a bit, but he chooses to say, “yeah, having a giant roomba talk to you is pretty weird.”
Kiibo doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that.
The firework display the others are putting on is pretty impressive, but Ouma busies himself with discreetly checking to make sure Momota is still breathing. There’s a dissonance between staring down at Momota’s unconscious form and hearing his distorted voice growl at the others in the heat of battle. There’s also something dissonant in how in all of his self centered anger and frustration, Momota never left him behind.
Ouma feels like the fight is lasting longer than it should. “Hey, robot guy,” he says. “Are they almost done?”
His question is answered with a grimace. “Unfortunately, due to some… personal concerns over the situation, I’m afraid that Akamatsu-san and the others may have entered the battle after their expedition of the last few floors. I warned them not to engage unless they were at full strength, but…”
“So you were just going to let me and Momota-chan die?” Ouma asks. “Well, I guess you are a robot…”
Kiibo is obviously flustered by his comment, but something in the fight catches his attention. “Saihara-kun, stay on guard! It’s targeting you again!”
From what Ouma can discern from the fight, everyone looks thoroughly battered, with Shuuichi appearing far and away the most exhausted from the relentless attacks against him. Kiibo is clenching his jaw as he watches. Ouma glances down at Momota, still breathing steadily even as his face twists in some phantom anguish. “So they’re losing.”
Kiibo doesn’t take his eyes off the fight. “It… could be going better. If—wait.” The strange projected screens in front of him flare with activity. “Everyone, be careful! I’m detecting another powerful shadow close by! It’s—it’s behind us right—”
Ouma spies his own shadow sitting across from him, Momota’s body between them. Kiibo notices it a second later and screams. “The shadow is right—!”
Kiibo keeps babbling. Ouma’s shadow is quiet as it presses its fingers to the bruise lingering on its pale face. Ouma smirks back at it. “I sure hope I’m not you. Getting so worked up over an idiot standing up for me, running after me…” He glances down at Momota and laughs. “Good thing you passed out for this part, Momota-chan. Although it would be kinda fun to hear whatever stupid cliché speech you’d try to make.” He glances up to Kiibo watching him curiously. “Hey, robot guy, humans have this little thing they like called privacy.”
Ouma shoos him away with his hands, and Kiibo is quite clearly offended but complies. “Anyway,” he says to his shadow once Kiibo is no longer hovering over him. “You were right. I don’t like to make it a habit to lie to myself, even if I don’t know where I’d be if I stopped. So I won’t. You know, you didn’t actually say anything I didn’t already know. But,” he hums. “Maybe I have been settling lately, which really is a problem since a supreme leader deserves the very best.”
The shadow nods. Ouma giggles. “So yeah, I guess you’re me. You should be grateful you get to be part of someone so important.”
There’s a lot more he doesn’t say, but the silence of the confession doesn’t seem to matter.
A light starts to emanate from the shadow before consuming it completely. A card with a crescent moon drifts down into Ouma’s hand. He doesn’t need any explanation for what it is. Everything suddenly makes sense.
Ouma stands and gently nudges Momota’s shoulder with his foot. “Looks like your shadow is going to need more than one punch. And you think I need a lot of attention, geeze.”
Ouma looks over at Kiibo, staring wide eyed at him. “You’re lucky I’ve been in the mood to beat up Momota-chan for a while now,” he says with a wink.
Kiibo stutters as he begins his message. “U-Uh, Saihara-kun, if you want, you can tag out now.”
Shuuichi is swaying in place after the last assault and blinks in confusion as Ouma skips over to him, his persona glowing bright behind him. “Ouma-kun?”
“No, it’s me, Momota-chan,” Ouma says with a teasing smile. “Just give me one second to handle the crybaby, and then you guys can have your heart to heart later, ‘kay?”
With the burns from the last attack still stinging up the lengths of his arms, Shuuichi doesn’t have a choice but to accept and stare in wonder.
-
The fight is longer than a few flashes of ice and fire, but the final few bursts of magic are all Momota sees when he finally opens his eyes again. He sits up with aching limbs, and everyone circled supportively around him. Shuuichi lets out a deep sigh of relief. “Momota-kun, are you alright?”
Shuuichi looks noticeably worse for wear, and Momota can’t help but wince in guilt. “Uh, yeah, I’m…” he spies his shadow standing dead eyed in the background. “Fuck.”
“Don’t worry,” Akamatsu says. “We took care of it, but the hard part is still up to you.”
Hot shame burns over him, and Momota doesn’t know what to do other than rub at the back of his head and curse again. Ouma huffs. “Yeah, duh, so give him some privacy. Only I get to hear all of Momota-chan’s dirty secrets.”
Momota’s head snaps up at Ouma’s voice. “Ouma, you—”
“Am doing perfect, thank you for asking!” Ouma says.
Momota looks at the others before leaning close to Ouma and whispering, “What happened to your shadow?”
Ouma whispers back, “Hey, Momota-chan? You want to know a secret? Whispering is really fun.” Momota scowls as he pulls back, but Ouma only giggles in response. “Well, to be honest, I really don’t know why you’re asking. My brave hero already beat it up.”
To Momota’s surprise, Yumeno lets out a drawn out, “ohhh, so that’s why there wasn’t a second shadow.”
“Kiibo-kun tried to tell us about one,” Akamatsu says. “But then it never actually showed up. It was really weird.”
Momota stares at Ouma with wide eyes while Chabashira throws her hands in the air. “Tenko can’t believe you were reckless enough to fight a shadow all by yourself!”
Ouma winks.
Momota is very aware Ouma is trying to have a silent conversation, but whatever nuances he’s trying to convey are lost on him. Shuuichi clears his throat with an inoffensive cough. “Ah, as glad as I am that you were able to help Ouma-kun, there’s still…”
Momota follows his gaze to the back of the room. He grits his teeth. “Right. Can you guys…”
“Of course,” Akamatsu says. “Just remember that your shadow is the worst parts of yourself, and you’re so much more than that, okay?”
“Yeah!” Ouma adds. “Momota-chan has lots of other good qualities like he’s a fast runner and is good at carrying people on his back and—”
Momota waves him off while Tenko snaps at Ouma for kicking Momota after he’s had such a hard day. The murmuring of the group is a dull hum as Momota approaches his shadow.
“Hey, uh,” he says. “I don’t… know what to say. It’s nice everyone isn’t watching, at least. Fuck, I can barely admit this stuff to myself. How pathetic is that?” the shadow doesn’t respond as Momota shakes his head. “No, I need to stop thinking that way. Just because I have stuff I need to work out doesn’t mean I’m weak. And even if I am weak…” he runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I can’t say that I’m okay with that, and I’m not okay with letting anyone know either, but…”
Momota takes a deep breath and presses both hands to his face. For a split second wonders if it’s even possible for him to keep going. A slight tug on his sleeve gets him to look down at Ouma suddenly right by his side.
“I’ll let you get back to playing with yourself in a second, but I just remembered I have something extremely important to tell you,” Ouma says. “You’re really annoying and you lie all the time.”
Momota frowns before he remembers exactly where he last heard those words. “Ouma?”
“And after aaall that work you made me do, I’m gonna be really mad if you just give up and throw all my hard work away,” Ouma says. Momota stares blankly back and him and Ouma huffs. “Oh come on. You’re just going to stand there and take it? If you want me to punch your shadow, you’re gonna have to let me ride on your shoulders again. Actually that sounds really fun! Okay, one punch coming right—”
“As if a punch from you will do anything,” Momota laughs.
“You know, if you really don’t think I’m strong, you wouldn’t mind being my punching bag, right?”
Momota rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.” He turns back to his shadow. “You’re right about everything, and I don’t know what to do or how to fix it. But I am going to stop pretending you don’t exist. If I wanna get better, I can’t fucking give up on myself. And, besides, doing something like that, that wouldn’t be like me either.” He sighs. “So, yeah. You’re me. Even the parts I still can’t admit to anyone.”
“Besides me,” Ouma says.
“Besides Ouma,” Momota says. “For some fucking reason.”
The shadow turns into light, and Momota reaches out to grasp the flickering card engraved with a sun before him. “I…” the light fades, and he’s left holding something that looks no more important than a plain playing card. “I wanted this for so long.”
“Looks like all your dreams came true, then,” Ouma says. “Although you didn’t really need it to fight shadows.”
Momota looks down at him, smiling fondly at the compliment. “Huh, I guess I—”
“Also was your shadow kinda…” Ouma trails off.
Momota furrows his brow. “Kind of what?”
Ouma gives him a knowing smirk and runs away giggling.
Out of the TV world to sleep for days, a deeply needed talk with Shuuichi, and far too many voluntary sleepovers with Ouma later, Momota figures out what Ouma was talking about.
There are parts of himself that still feel too raw to touch and others that blind if he focuses on them for too long. In a quiet moment, Ouma tells him he’s trying to just do what feels natural, but sometimes he finds himself over thinking what that means and hurrying back to square one.
Everything under the surface that had boiled out is still there, and the power to summon a version of himself that shines like the sun doesn’t whisk away all the doubt and frustration.
Someone else falls into the TV, and Momota is invited along. It’s surreal to be on the other side and see Ouma’s tiny persona darting around his. The image is so strange, but it seems like the light finally starting to shine through the fog.