Chapter Text
The girl woke up in darkness, gasping for breath as the last memories of the nightmare that awakened her faded from her mind. She picked herself up from where she was laying on the floor and took a look around, the movement sending her orange-dyed hair swishing back and forth. Her mauve eyes narrowed behind her glasses as she took in her surroundings.
While the room was completely dark, the girl could somewhat make out the silhouettes of many large screens covering the walls. In the middle of the room stood a massive conference table surrounded by chairs and in one of those chairs, across the table from her, she could make out the blurry outline of a human figure.
Suddenly, the monitors around her turned on with a series of hums, each screen erupting into static before a familiar symbol appeared on it. A red tophat and domino mask, the left eye replaced with a tongue of white flames. The words ‘Take Your Heart’ were written below it in white and black. The surface of the conference table revealed itself to be a screen as well, now blazing with the image of a large blue butterfly, the light revealing the identity of the figure sitting before her.
The colors were all wrong, with blue replacing the black and golden gloves covering his hands instead of the old red. His tailcoat had a trimming of golden thread dancing around its edges now, its cloth colored the same velvet blue as the rest of him. But the bone-white domino mask, patterned after a bird’s beak and covered with black designs was the same, and more importantly, so was the kind smile curving his lips.
“Oracle.” he spoke and the girl could hear the happiness in his voice at seeing her.
“Joker.” she responded in kind, somehow keeping her cool, somehow not tackling her dear leader into a hug right then and there. Instead, body almost shaking from the strain of holding herself back, she calmly walked up to the table and sat down across from the masked boy, leaning forward and fixing him with a stare.
“What’s going on Ren? This looks like…”
“The Velvet Room.” The older teen finished her sentence, slipping a pack of cards from the pocket of his tailcoat and starting to shuffle it, his fingers never stopping, always shifting, always moving. An old nervous tic the orange-haired girl noticed during his stay in Tokyo.
“As usual, you’re right on the money Futaba.” his smile shifted. To anyone else, it wouldn’t have made a difference, but Futaba knew Ren. He had become almost like a big brother to her during the months they spent working together, the all-knowing Oracle and the cunning Joker of the legendary Phantom Thieves of Hearts. He was sad, and while he was doing his best to hide it, he may as well have shouted it from the rooftops for all the good it did him.
“This is indeed that special place that lies between Dream and Reality, Mind and Matter. And yet, it isn’t. This isn’t the same Velvet Room we visited during our last big heist. It isn’t the one that aided me throughout that year, from my first day of school to that disaster on Christmas. It’s not the Velvet Room, but a Velvet Room. My Velvet Room to be specific.” Ren grinned his patented Joker Grin, his card shuffling coming to an abrupt stop as he spread the cards in a fan in front of himself, offering them to Futaba. “Go ahead, take one.”
“Uh…” Visibly utterly lost, the girl did as her old team leader bid, stretching out a hand and taking a card at random, leaving it face down on the desk before her. “I don’t get it. Is this what all of you felt like when I went on a tech-rant back then?”
“Kinda,” Joker sniggered, foul mood seemingly buried if not forgotten. “But I get what you mean. I didn’t really explain properly, did I?”
“To start, I need to touch on one of the aspects of my power, the Wildcard. Basically, every person in the world has one of the Major Arcana of Tarot assigned to them, and my power draws from my bond with these people to enhance any Persona I have that shares that Arcana.” He gestured to the card Futaba picked, directing the girl’s attention back to it. When she flipped it over, it revealed an image of a lantern with an eye-shaped charm hanging from its bottom, the Roman number ‘IX’ stamped beneath it.
“You, for example, are the Hermit. And I…” Here Joker placed down a second card, bearing the image of a young man with a dog nipping at his heels, the number ‘0’ under the picture “was the Fool. That’s important, because only Fools are connected to the Velvet Room, and only Fools can gain the Wildcard. As for what this is… a few weeks ago, I found myself back in Igor’s Velvet Room and he asked me for a favor. See, our world isn’t the only one out there, and Igor and his master were worried that other worlds might develop a Metaverse as well, and without a Velvet Room, they’d be doomed. So he asked if I’d be willing to fill his shoes for one of those worlds, the one with the most developed Cognition and thus the one most at risk of developing a Metaverse. Obviously, I accepted and here we are. That doesn’t mean I vanished in our world mind you. I just… have a recurring dream now, that’s all.”
“OK, ignoring the bombshell of the multiverse theory being real for now,” the orange-haired hacker spoke up after a minute of silence, “that doesn’t really explain why I’m here. Cause if I’m meant to be your Lavenza, I figured you’d get Makoto for that job, not me.”
“Ah, yeah…” Joker grimaced sadly and looked down at the table, “There’s really no good way to put this so I’ll come right out and say it. You died, Futaba. Apparently a car crash of all things. Some jerk elbowed you from behind, you went tumbling and the driver didn’t hit the brakes in time.”
Futaba flinched at that, the memory of what she thought was just a nightmare returning in full, the fact that it was eerily similar to her mother’s death making it even worse.
“So, is this, like, some last chance to say goodbye then?” the girl asked quietly, her voice barely louder than a whisper as she choked up, the memories of how bad Sojiro got when Wakaba died swimming up to the surface. If it hurt him that bad when someone he was just good friends with died, then…
Her head snapped up and fixed Ren with a glare. “Make sure Sojiro doesn’t do anything stupid, OK? If he hurts himself I’ll haunt you forever.”
“Don’t worry.” Ren held his hands up defensively. “Makoto’s already on it and Haru had to tape Ryuji and Yusuke up before they tried to find and have a ‘chat’ with the dude that pushed you. Ann’s inconsolable, Zenkichi’s spitting fire and Sophia just seems… lost. We all are without our Oracle guiding us, but we’ll survive. Anyway, back to why you’re here.”
The teen steepled his fingers before his face and looked Futaba - his friend, his teammate, his Hermit, his sister - in the eyes, not a single trace of levity on his face.
“Normally, you’d pass on now, yes. Wouldn’t even make a stop here on your way to the afterlife. But I, for one, thought it unfair that your life was cut so short, and this new job comes with a few perks. Such as the ear of Igor’s boss, a literal God. A better one than old Cuphead at that. Five of us protested to him and he made us an offer. You can either pass on into the afterlife from here, or, you can take what’s behind curtain #2 and he can send you to the world this Velvet Room is attached to. You’d get a second try at life, in a way. It isn’t reincarnation, more of a… It’s like one of those Isekai manga you read online. So, you’ll show up in this world exactly as you were when you died. What do you say?”
Futaba simply stared at her big brother figure. If the two hadn’t spent multiple months fighting the physical manifestations of humanity’s distorted psyche together, she wouldn’t have believed a single word he spoke. But as much as she wanted to laugh at Ren, she knew, deep down, that he was speaking nothing but the truth.
“Tell me about this world? If I’m going to accept, I should probably know what I’m getting into.”
At those words, Joker relaxed, a smile tentatively gracing his face once more.
“Sure. Let me tell you about your new world.”
And so, the siblings spent the next few hours shoulder-to-shoulder, looking at everything from books to old newspaper clippings, doing their best to learn everything they could about Futaba’s new home.
The sun was setting over the city of Musutafu, the day slowly transitioning into night. In the lengthening shadows of one particular alley, a short, orange-haired girl manifested behind a dumpster, back leaned against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest. The last words Ren spoke to her danced in her mind, a final order from her leader:
“Remember, wait where you show up. The woman those dumpsters belong to is a kind one, she’ll take you in no questions asked if she sees you. Maybe play up that you’re homeless if you think it’ll help?”
True to Ren’s words, Futaba could hear a door open nearby, followed by a series of approaching footsteps. The next thing the teen heard was a sharp, shocked inhale as the person presumably noticed her, and a head popped into her field of vision, the other person’s body still hidden by the dumpster. The woman that found her seemed kind, with short black hair and soft, chestnut colored eyes.
“Hello dear.” Her voice was calm and soothing, carrying a lifetime of experience with those younger than herself, and Futaba couldn’t help but relax a little. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here. Want to come out from behind that dumpster?”
Despite herself, the teen nodded and slowly disentangled herself, getting up and taking a good look at the woman.
She was barely taller than the diminutive teen, dressed in a light blue shirt and green pants, her raven hair held in a ponytail with a white scrunchie. While she didn’t look all that young anymore, her every facial feature radiated kindness and a warmth you just couldn’t help but trust.
“There we go, that’s better, right dear? Oh, right, where are my manners? I’m Minami Aiko, the owner of that dumpster you were hiding behind. And you are…?”
“Futaba…” the teen whispered, her gaze dipping down. While she had improved a lot since her days locked in her room, strangers were still a little hard, even calming ones like Aiko. “Sakura Futaba.”
“That’s a nice name Futaba-chan. You look like you’re cold, this damn autumn weather ain’t helping either. Want to come in? I can put some tea on if you want?” the older woman offered, taking a step back and letting Futaba decide for herself.
It didn’t take much thinking for the teen to accept. The weather was indeed a little on the colder side and while her jacket did a good enough job of keeping the chill at bay, her shorts unfortunately weren’t up to the task. They would have probably worked during the day, but in the evening chill they simply weren’t enough.
“Sure.” Futaba nodded, causing Aiko to beam happily.
“Great, come on. Let’s talk indoors, it’s probably more comfortable than this dirty alley.” Their course thus decided, the older woman took a second to heave the trash bag she brought with her into the dumpster before leading Futaba indoors.
“You can go sit on the couch, dear. I’ll just put the water on and we can have that talk.” Aiko nodded in the direction of the living room, letting Futaba head on ahead while she quickly dipped into the kitchen.
The teen flopped down on the bright red couch, sighing happily and almost melting into the pillows as her body warmed up. A series of framed photographs on the wall attracted her attention though, and she grumpily pulled herself up to get a closer look at them.
Every picture seemed to be of Aiko and a young boy, probably her son, laughing together and visibly having fun. The kid had his mother’s kind, chestnut-colored eyes, but his hair was a shockingly bright orange, much like Futaba’s own dyed hair.
“That’s my Naoki.” Aiko’s voice came from behind Futaba, making the teen spin in shock, blushing lightly at being caught.
“Sorry for snooping, Minami-san.” The bespectacled hacker looked down, only raising her eyes when she heard her host’s soft chuckle.
“It’s no problem Futaba-chan. I wouldn’t have put those pictures up if I didn’t want people seeing them. And Aiko-san is fine, don’t worry.” The older woman placed the teacup she was carrying on the coffee table. “Come on, sit. Don’t want the tea to get cold.”
Futaba sat, fidgeting lightly under Aiko’s gaze, taking a quick sip of her tea to hide her nerves.
“Tell me Futaba-chan, do you have anywhere to stay?” Aiko didn’t mince words, going straight to the point. Her eyes shone with a kind of worry only a mother could feel, and it made the teenager feel… warm. She had a few misty memories of her own mother looking at her like that, and something inside her ached as she remembered.
“No…” she muttered quietly, taking another sip of her tea.
The older woman nodded decisively, as if she had expected this answer and it simply helped her make up her mind about something.
“How about crashing here then? I’ve got a guest bedroom that’s never used that you can sleep in. I would have asked you to stay overnight anyway, there’s no way I’m sending a teenager back outside at this hour.” Aiko offered, making Futaba blink in stunned silence.
“Y-You’d do that for me? You don’t even know me.” the teen stuttered in shock, making Aiko chuckle kindly.
“Oh, please. Heroes put their lives on the line daily to help people. This is the least I can do to contribute to their efforts to make this country better. Now come on, I think Naoki’s upstairs. Let’s introduce you to him, make sure he knows we’ve got a guest.”
Futaba didn’t need her considerable hacking prowess or her intelligence to see that the older woman wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer. The only thing the teen could do was go with the flow and accept. And so…
“Well… Okay. If you’re sure, Aiko-san.”
A few hours later, Futaba snuggled into the comforter on her new bed, her head heavy on the pillow. In seconds, her consciousness faded, her body relaxing and her eyes sliding shut.
The sound of clinking chains filled her ears, and velvet blue overtook her senses.
When her eyes fluttered open once more, she sat in a familiar room, her adopted older brother sitting across from her, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face.
“I’m sorry about contacting you so quickly, Oracle.” he spoke, and Futaba subconsciously straightened in her chair. This wasn’t Ren Amamiya, the quick-witted teen with a heart of gold and a silver tongue she considered her brother. This was Joker, and when Joker spoke, the rest of the Thieves listened.
“We’ve got a situation.”