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Yu stares at the kid. Then the government worker. Then at the papers in front of him.
It still doesn't seem real.
He pinches himself.
Well. Apparently it is, because the scenery around him isn't changing in the slightest with the introduction of the sharp pain. He'd done the same when he'd first fell face-first into the TV world, and like then, his reality is grimly unwavering.
He manages a weak grin at the quiet child in front of him, who doesn't meet his eyes. The kid's face is pointed downwards, and from where he is, he can only make out the messy black hair obscuring Yu's view of his expression.
A child.
Even having been briefed on the situation, some part of him is still in disbelief that this is falling to him. But Dojima had his hands full with Nanako - and wasn't even blood-related to the kid, for that matter. His mother was constantly on the move and refused to ever stay in one place for more than a year. The rest of his family was either unwilling to take the kid or dead. Yu, who was just barely qualified for fostering, was the most suitable candidate to take on his 6-year-old cousin.
Granted, his job was a permanent role with flexible hours. And he had enough generational wealth to support himself and the kid even if his job hadn't been sufficient. So logically, it would make the most sense.
Logically, at least.
Yu still wasn't sure, but it wasn't like he could leave the kid to the system. Not in Japan. Like it or not, he was a responsible adult now. And that, to his utter lack of surprise, involved bearing responsibilities. He just hadn't expected this type.
Looking down at the kid, he made a resolution. A surprise, to be sure. But one that he would make his own.
—
Akira had grown into a fine young man.
Just hearing that last phrase would have made Yu wince a decade or so ago, but the fact that he uses it unironically now is a testament to how much he’s grown in the years since he left school.
Even in the time they’d spent away from each other this last year, the updates from Sojiro Sakura have ensured that he’s not completely out of the loop. Regardless, Yu can’t deny that he misses his kid.
It’s for this reason that he finds himself on a train to Shibuya on the 27th of August.
For all of Yu’s acquired maturity, he still finds it a delight to catch people off guard, and his own child is no exception to that rule. Sojiro has kindly informed him of Akira’s whereabouts, and that along with the tracker he’d gotten one of Mitsuru’s people to add to his kid’s bag made it easy enough to locate him within the station itself.
Having to use it - for the first time since Akira had gotten lost on a field trip three years ago - is a necessary evil. Shibuya is a maze on a good day, but packed with people as it is at rush hour on a working day…
The kids seem to be headed somewhere less crowded, at least.
It’s hard to get somewhere empty in a station this crowded, but they seem to know their way around pretty well, because the throngs of people thin as Yu follows them through the station, trying his best to hide his presence until he’s almost on top of them.
One embarrassing dad-figure coming… right… up…?
The background noise suddenly cuts out.
And for the first time in years, Yu feels Izanagi stirring within him.
His other self is closer to the surface than he’d been in-
What is this place? The quiet is unnerving, but when his eyes finally adjust to the dim lighting, he sees that dark roots crawl up the walls like rot, and Shibuya station is illuminated by an eerie red hue. There’s no fog around, but Yu wouldn’t be surprised if he turned a corner and was suddenly engulfed in it.
The atmosphere is almost painfully reminiscent of the TV world, from the preternatural environment to the way his Persona is reacting.
Then he lays his eyes on his kid and his friends and his expression - already carefully neutral - goes completely flat.
They’re totally the Phantom Thieves, aren’t they?
In the bizarre costumes that they’re now donning, it’s harder to identify Akira’s friends from the verbal descriptions he’s received from both Sojiro and Akira himself, but Yu can easily pick his own kid out of the line-up.
The bone-white mask and ankle-length tailcoat are certainly… a look.
Yu resists the urge to sigh.
Akira is a high-schooler, he reminds himself. He can be forgiven for some outlandish fashion choices - especially as he’s not going around the real world dressed in that incriminating attire. From head to toe, the outfit screams ‘phantom thief’, so perhaps he should consider it a mercy that it appears to be something exclusive to this plane - somewhere between the sea of souls and reality.
He’s lamenting his kid’s choices to Yosuke lately, along with giving Mitsuru a formal update on this new group of Persona users, but his immediate concern is investigation.
The Phantom Thieves are clearly untrained. There are six of them, and while his kid is holding his own, a couple of them are less quick to react. An undeniable sense of pride blooms in his chest as he follows them through the twisted train tunnels, seeing them take on Shadows with their Persona and a liberal usage of teamwork.
Akira leaps and flips like a professional gymnast, the athletic abilities Yu’s helped him build up throughout the years bolstered by practice and — he notes with a discerning eye, as one stunt pushes the limits of probability — what is likely a contribution from the plane they currently inhabit.
He watches the other Thieves so he has enough to tell the Shadow Ops later, but his focus in undeniably on Akira.
His kid switches between a dagger and a handgun with practised speed, calling out instructions to his team whenever the Shadows make unpredicted moves, and summons at least three different Persona over the course of the next fifteen minutes.
That latter part gives him pause - the implications alone sending his head spinning.
In the end, his verdict is clear. They’re untrained, but they’re capable. It’s not just pride as a parent clouding his judgement, either. Though their observational abilities clearly need serious improvement, their situational awareness while engaging in combat is up to scratch. They work cohesively, and though some of them stutter on certain moves, it’s clear that they’re all quick to adapt to the ebb and flow of battle.
But he worries nonetheless.
What had this new version of the TV world been formed from?
He knows of only two other groups of Persona users in living memory, other than the Investigation Team and the Phantom Thieves. Though he can’t remember why Shadows had appeared in Sumaru, both Tartarus and the TV world had been symptoms of a greater threat lurking behind the scenes. Neither had been trivial.
He worries.
That worry abruptly becomes more acute when he hears the rattling of chains. It’s familiar - almost too familiar - the sound bringing up memories laced with terror and desperation from deep within the recesses of his mind.
And suddenly the fact that he’d been trying to covertly spy on the group doesn’t matter.
The fear that contorts his kid’s — and the others’ — expressions is all the impetus he needs to step forward when the Reaper appears.
As he emerges from the shadows, he sees the two blondes react violently - almost jumping out of their skin - and he sees Akira freeze in place, but he doesn’t see much more of that before his back is to them and he’s calling on a painfully familiar power to aid him in this fight.
Izanagi-no-Okami's white coat practically gleams in the dark tunnels.
—
When he turns, Akira looks like he’s been hit with a sledgehammer.
His friends are looking at him in askance, clearly wary, but all he does is gape wordlessly.
Yu wants to tell him to get a move on before they get ambushed, but the Reaper - undoubtedly the strongest threat that this particular area has - has been summarily dispatched. And as long as he sticks around, he doubts any of the Shadows in the area could prove a threat to the seven of them combined.
“Joker, we need to get out of here.” The cat monster says, panicked.
In the silent tunnels, the only sounds being the groans of Shadows echoing from somewhere in the far distance, the words carry easily.
“Yeah, man,” the blond boy says, equally nervous, “this guy’s crazy strong - no way we can take him!”
Akira remains stunned.
Yu meets his eyes with a level gaze, lets his eyes slide diagonally downwards to the cat monster, then deliberately looks back at his wayward child. “Cat got your tongue?”
That breaks the tension.
Akira splutters, indignantly. “That’s- That’s not funny! You- wha- huh?!”
“Very eloquent.” Yu says drily, but there’s the ghost of a smile threatening to show itself on his face. He’s basically caught Akira with his hand in the cookie jar… if the cookie jar was an alternate level of reality hidden in the underground metro.
And for all that he wants to be disappointed — really, Akira was meant to be on probation, and if he just complied, he’d be able to come home and Yu would actually be able to watch his kid grow up instead of having to make an hours-long trip to Tokyo whenever he wanted to see him — he remembers his own second year of high school in startling clarity.
He doesn’t let this last part show, though. As Naoto said, if he wanted to make a point, it was best not to send conflicting signals.
“You have a Persona?” Akira asks, the question practically steeped in disbelief.
Yu levels him with another deadpan look. Is that seriously what he’s asking?
“I mean-” Akira stumbles over his words. “-you didn’t tell me?”
Standing across from Akira and his group of Phantom Thieves, this question seems quite hypocritical. “Pot, kettle.” Akira has the decency to look admonished. “But the last time I summoned Izanagi was over a decade ago. What was I supposed to have told you?
“I have to admit, kid, this isn’t what I was expecting when I came to Shibuya to surprise you.”
At this point, the Phantom Thieves are looking between the two of them like they’re watching a particularly interesting game of tennis.
Sighing, Akira runs a hand through his already-messy hair. He needs a comb - wait, doesn’t Yu have one in his pocket right now? “Talk about terrible timing, dad.”
As Yu crosses the few paces that separate them, the others seem too shell-shocked by that bomb to react.
“Dad?!” The blond boy shouts.
“Joker, what-?!”
Yu cuts them all off by holding out his comb to his kid. “I want to say I agree with you, but I think that it was perfect timing on my part.”
He lets his gaze rest briefly on each member of Akira’s motley crew, before returning it to Akira himself. His face is set in a stubborn pout, but he looks grimly resigned.
Yu almost feels bad for the stern tone that his voice takes. “I think you’d better explain what you’ve been up to these last few months before I get Sakura to put you on lockdown.”
A few of the Thieves object, rather loudly, but Akira silences them with a wave. He looks at the comb that Yu’s holding out to him, then takes the offering. His own eyes narrow, his mouth twisting, but he jerks his hands to his sides and follows Yu out of the subway.
—
The other teenagers (and one monster cat) take their leaves, at Akira’s request, as soon as they’re back in Shibuya station proper — with all the usual noise that a packed station usually carries and none of the horror-genre growths creeping up its walls.
“Have you been to the Velvet Room?” Yu says it flat-out, without preamble.
A sharp intake of breath is answer enough, and Yu hisses.
If it was ‘just’ Personas and Shadows and the strange new dimension, perhaps he’d be able to convince Akira that he was playing with powers out of his league, but if he’s been to the Velvet Room…
What dim hope that he’d had that he’d be able to disentangle Akira from the web of Personas — slowly fades.
Akira looks like he’s drawn his own conclusions from the question, too. The fact that Yu knows about the Velvet Room is telling, and there’s a quiet understanding that passes between them without either having to utter another word.
“So.” Yu speaks again, when it’s obvious that Akira’s too lost in the implications to say anything. “Phantom Thievery.”
“It’s for a good cause!” is his knee-jerk reaction.
“Isn’t it ever?”
His kid’s eyes narrow. “I’m serious.”
“You and your friends are all over the news.” Yu says mildly.
“I know.”
“Some people think that you’re blackmailing your victims. Or threatening them. Or forcing them, somehow, to confess their crimes.” It’s a bland statement of facts.
It’s enough to get Akira talking. And once he’s explained the changes of hearts, the entire story comes spilling out.
The story is fantastical. It’s unreal. It’s hard to believe.
But it’s no more so than his own story from Inaba, all those years ago. It’s no more so than S.E.E.S.’ own story of Tartarus, before him. No more so than the rumours of what had happened to Sumaru, even further into the distant past.
Like it or not - and Yu is leaning towards not - Akira’s life in Tokyo has become intertwined with that of this generation’s group of Persona users.
"Nothing I say will persuade you to go back to keeping your head down?” Yu asks, but at this point, it’s a rhetorical question.
Akira’s answering smile is sad.
“Okay.” Yu says, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”
In turn, he recontexualises the stories he’s told his kid about how the Investigation Team came to be.
They sit there, swapping experiences, for what seems like hours. Time becomes meaningless as Yu wonders, hearing about the forms the Metaverse takes, if being a Wild Card was genetic. Outside, the sunlight vanishes without their noticing as they talk late into the night about where pockets of alternate dimensions had appeared before. And downstairs, Akira’s phone buzzes, forgotten on the bar table, as the Phantom Thief group chat explodes with activity.
“I’ll have to tell the Shadow Operatives about this.” Yu tells him, when their talk finally draws to a close. “I don’t know how they haven’t picked up on it beforehand, but if there truly is another party using this Metaverse maliciously, that might be a contributing factor.
“You know I would throw my job away in a heartbeat if it meant that I could make sure you stayed safe.” Yu says simply. “The Velvet Room complicates things.”
“I agreed to accept the consequences of my own actions.” Akira agrees.
“Non-interference.” Yu grimaces. They’d spent a solid chunk of their discussion theorising about the Velvet Room, its inhabitants and its role. “Your journey is your own.”
Izanagi had gone dormant again the moment he’d left Shibuya. Apparently, this was in stark contrast to Arsène, who Akira said remained at hand. An ever-present companion, rather than a presence of which he was only peripherally aware of.
“Yet this doesn’t mean that you’re on your own.” He says, steely. “Kid, I know you have a team, a variety of Personas, and you’ve grown much more independent since you got to Tokyo. You’re capable. Don’t ever forget that.
“But remember that people like those who landed you in Tokyo, like those who are misusing the Metaverse, aren’t going to be playing by the rules. You can’t use healing items or Diarahan in real life, so stay careful. You hear me? You’d better come out of this in one piece.”
“I will.”
“And if you ever think you’re in over your head,” Yu finishes, “I’m going to be picking up sword-fighting again. Even if Izanagi doesn’t respond to my call again, I can be here within the day if you need me. And…”
He pauses, remembering something. Reaching for his bag, he pulls out a old stack of cards. Maybe it won’t have any effect. Akira recruits Personas in a manner vastly different from how he used to, and the way he summons them is different as well. But it’s worth a shot.
“…when you next enter a Palace, or Mementos, see if you can do anything with these.”
Akira holds the stack almost reverently. He sets them carefully down on the table, before flinging himself at Yu, arms outstretched.
He’d all limbs, long and gangly, still in the middle of an awkward growth spurt that makes Yu lament the times that he was smaller and easier to handle. He’s grown so much while he’s away. But Yu wouldn’t have his kid any other way.
He returns the hug, holding Akira tightly as he tries to resist the urge to not ever let his son go again. The prospect of another god looming somewhere in the Metaverse isn’t unlikely, and Yu is terrified for him. The gaping helplessness threatens to swallow him whole.
Yet there’s nothing he can do but trust that Akira will ask for help when he needs it. This isn’t his fight — his had passed fifteen years ago, in a small rural town. All he can do now is hope.
Yu squeezes Akira one last time before letting him go.
“I trust you.” He says, and it’s true. He has faith in his kid.
“Thanks, dad.”
Bonus: PQ2 Outline
because past-me loved the PQ/2 segments vampirebadger wrote, but present-me doesn't care enough (or have the time) to rewrite this.
- Persona Q2 is funky, because wow these movie theatres sure are wack, aren’t they? There’s also this girl, Kotone, who seems to be a pretty cheery kid, if isolated from her group. Ren wonders if he’d be able to meet up with her once they’re out of the labyrinths… and then he rounds a corner in the Junessic Land and wonders if Kotone is from their time or not because that’s his dad, looking 15 years younger than the last time he saw him.
- Yep, and his dad is strong, because he’s fending off Ren’s attacks and retaliating. There’s no need to fight, since he knows who this is, so Ren leaps back and lowers his gun as a show of surrender/pacifism, and… there’s the rest of his dad’s friends, also looking as young as he is.
- Naoto figures it out because of the weird way he’s acting around them lmao - connects the dots when Ren calls Rise by some nickname that indicates familiarity since young, but usually from a child to an older person, and links the odd reverence he watches Yu with along with the year they came from - 2026 - which makes it possible for him to be Yu’s kid but still seems unbelievable.
- She confronts him first, alone. Ren denies at first, and then she begins to lay it out, and then… “I should have expected you to figure it out at some point, Naoto.” Ren sighs, disregarding his efforts to the Investigation Team by their last names. If Naoto could figure it out, Akechi would probably figure it out sooner or later, and he knows the Velvet Room attendants are aware. Naoto smiles, but it’s shaky because oh god- their leader has a kid, who’s also a wild card - is it genetic? does trouble run in the family? it’s crazy to think about. Ren explains their circumstances briefly, then asks if she’s going to tell Yu. Naoto thinks it over. Honestly, it would be weird, but the Investigation Team are getting kind of suspicious as to how Ren knows such odd details about them - and they already know that Ren’s interacted with Rise once at least, and his dumb attempt to cover up the link between them - Yu - hadn’t fooled them for a moment.
- So the two of them leave the theatre room and head over to Yu, Ren trailing behind Naoto like an awkward duck. Naoto’s not one for dramatics, so she simply pulls him over and explains what she’s figured out. Ren explains the rest - what is his past, and will be Yu’s future. He also starts calling him Dad after that. Yu just… pulls Ren aside, and they head to the Velvet Room together to ask the Attendants about wtf this is because holy shit he has a kid?? who’s a persona user?? who’s the same age as him now with the time travel silliness of the Metaverse/TV world? it’s so odd, but now that’s he’s looking, he sees traits that he’s beginning to develop - ticks, nervous hand gestures, figures of speech - in Ren, in a way that just cements it because that only comes from years of knowing each other.
- Ren, for his part, is pretty bemused and making things up along the way. Like - was this what his dad was like when he was his age? It’s weird knowing that Narukami Yu was just as much of a lost teenager as he is because the only version of him that he knows is his dependable, well-connected, deadpan dad.
- They get back to the theatre with everyone there to find out that Naoto told Kanji, who told Yosuke, who together with Chie, spread it to literally everyone. Ren’s ambushed by the Phantom Thieves at which he explains that he hadn’t known his dad was a persona user - why do they think he was so quiet on the way back from Junessic Land - before the Investigation Team drags him over to their little huddle of people and get him to explain their futures to them, because honestly, he can’t make excuses about having only bumped into them anymore. It’s embarrassing and it’s absolutely insane for Ren, but sat beside the teenage version of his dad - who’s taller than him even though they’re the same age - it slowly becomes less humiliating and more completely surreal. It’s not like they’ll remember it when they get out, so he may as well enjoy chatting to and learning about these younger versions of the people that share things indiscriminately with him…
- And then the persona 3 characters appear. And Ren recognises Mitsuru as ‘that one woman who dad has over for a meal sometimes and makes him stay in his room for’ and Akihiko as ‘that guy with the same hair colour as dad that usually accompanies her’, and is struck by the sudden realisation that wtf his dad knows more persona users IRL. surreal.
- Idk what happens next