That's the world that most perceive, anyway. A world dominated by a once-sleeping god, one deeply connected to cognitive reality, one that has carried out an attempt to control the population...
...to spare them. To free them all from their hurt.
In 2017, Hamuko Arisato was meant to be 25. Meant to have graduated from Gekkoukan High School, attended some college, she'd dated here and there even - everyone remembered her for her brilliant, jovial personality and her outstanding academics. Sharp as a tack, inspirational, a veritable leader in anything she did - getting ready to settle down and start a family.
But something unsettling happened. It's in her records, now - suddenly the young woman started sleeping far too often. Lost her job. Was discovered undressed in the middle of winter, blacked out and laying in the street. Her body was fine, but psychologists and psychiatrists noted strange incongruousness with memory.
Hamuko Arisato recalls all of the years leading up as they happened, but claims to feel violently disconnected from reality due to memories reflecting another life entirely. Referral to specialist needed.
She's shipped from specialist to specialist. Gradually from a general practitioner into the cognitive psience field, even.
Subject has become better at masking her distress as well as more attuned to reality. Incongruent memories persist, causing depressive episodes and inability to connect to others.
As for Hamuko? She's not sure what to do. It feels... like having two lifetimes living in her mind. It makes her... tired. Maybe this was all just a terrible dream. Maybe she just needed to live with the hallucinations. Nobody felt right. But maybe it was her. For lack of a way to cope, Hamuko was asleep outside of yet another research office, passed out on the bench before her scheduled appointment.
Dreams... trying to dream was half of the reason she slept. Maybe if she kept sleeping, she would wake up in the right way. Shaking off nightmares, non-realities, maybe her confusion would be sorted...
The other half...
I should be sleeping.
It was hard to explain why, so many times to so many people. It's important that she sleeps. She has to sleep. Stop, stop calling her, if she gets pulled away then... then...!
Everyone will die.
But the warmth on her shoulder beckons. In spite of herself, the dream of touch calls her, pulls her away, out of the dream, out of--
With a start, Hamuko jolted awake and looked around. Wha--
The face of someone else. The touch of someone else. Hamuko's heart settles and she exhales, a bit, her mind catching up.
Concern... she met the look with a soft smile, settling a little.
"Oh. Hello, I'm. Sorry I worried you. I keep dozing off when I shouldn't, hah hah..." she shook her head, fiddling for the phone in her hand and plucking the bluetooth earbuds out of her ears. Checking the time... "Whew.. you saved me there, I almost slept through the start of my appointment."
There wasn't any true place for concern in his world. Concern could drive someone to despair as well which will cause a ripple effect across everyone.
People still did care for each other. Of course they did, it wouldn't be an ideal world if they didn't. But the only right thing to do there after was to politely step away. Maruki would usually take over from here.
The stranger did none of that.
"That makes me even more worried if I will be honest," he chuckles lightly, glasses obscuring his eyes as he adjusted his brown coat. He watched her straighten up before checking the time.
He knows why of course.
"It's no big deal, I tend to lose track of time myself- figured I could spare someone else from suffering the same fate," his smile becomes a bit wry. "Please tell me you have atleast some time to spare to make it to your appointment on time."
"I've got about fifteen minutes..." Hamuko said, trailing off as she looked into this... stranger's face. Really looked. The furrow of the brow, the weight in his expression... her own polite smile sank as subconscious realization came to the forefront of her mind.
He's like me.
He's there, he's present, more than just pleasantries. Expressions she only remembers in dreams. Expressions she used to see from her loved ones back in... high school? No, back in that other dream. That other life.
He's going to walk away.
A small panic rose in her chest. Don't leave. Right now in the moment would be the 'appropriate' time to walk off, the stranger's body language even looking like that, but more than anything she needed to talk to him just a little more, to know she wasn't crazy--
"Say-- you're really handsome," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could control herself. Her face burned bright red, embarrassed at herself and her desperation, but she tried to play it off by twirling the end of a lock of hair around her finger.
You know he won't buy that. The bags under your eyes, your sleeping in public, you're a wreck.
"U-um, I mean... won't you sit with me for a little bit? It's a little lonely waiting by myself. Um! I'm Arisato, by the way. Nice to meet you."
The air between them stilled for a moment after Hamuko’s words. Maruki had been poised to step back. He’d nodded politely, ready to retreat with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to remaining unnoticed.
But her sudden statement made him freeze.
"Say—you're really handsome."
His breath hitched, more from surprise than anything else. He blinked, turning to look at her again. The faintest furrow of his brow deepened as he took in the bright red flush on her face.
For a moment, the world shrank to just them.
The rush of wind through the trees softened, leaving behind only the sound of her unsteady breathing and the rustle of his coat as he shifted.
Maruki knew what he should do. He had been observing her quietly for a while now, preparing to oversee one of her sessions in secret to understand more about her. Hamuko Arisato, the mysterious problem case—her mind weighed down by memories of a life that shouldn’t exist. He should have stayed at a distance. Professional. Detached.
And yet, here she was. The desperation was unmistakable—so familiar.
Someone begging to be heard. To be s̶̫̈a̷̤̐v̸̢̈́e̴̜̚d̴̮͊
His response wasn’t immediate, but his voice finally broke the silence.
“Well...” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m not sure I buy that, but—thank you. Really. That was...unexpected.” A small, self-effacing grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
His first instinct was to decline. His place was behind the scenes, observing, analyzing, ensuring perfection from a distance. But...
It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Since someone talked to me like this.
His gaze lingered on her. The exhaustion beneath her eyes. The way her hands fidgeted. Her nervous smile.
She needed this.
“Shibusawa.” He introduced himself with a name that didn’t belong to him but still felt safe. “I’ve got an appointment too. Fifteen minutes, just like you. Fair enough—I’ll sit for a bit.”
He lowered himself onto the bench next to her, careful not to crowd her space. His brown flat cap remained firmly in place as he adjusted his coat. He looked down at his tan shoes as a leaf fluttered and made its way close to them as he shook it off.
Then Maruki—Shibusawa—turned to her with a grin. It was boyish, awkward, but the hint of amusement behind it was genuine.
“Tell me, Arisato-san,” he teased, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Are you always this expressive right after waking up? Or did you really not get enough sleep last night?”
"Sometimes I'm a little more groggy, I admit," she laughed lightly, the amusement floating on her breath more than anything. "But... something about you snapped to my attention," she added, smiling more sincerely and less out of niceties.
"You're seeing a specialist too, Shibusawa-san? The way all the doctors talked, I didn't think anyone else going through something! Oops, there I go, oversharing - you don't have to say anything if you don't want to," she hastily pulled back her words - after so long of people never responding well to talking about negativity....
But Shibusawa didn't have the same look. There was something present in his expression, even as he was trying to wall off and close away. The fact that he was doing that at all, even-- Hamuko leaned in a little almost entirely subconsciously.
In the months following the fusion of Mementos with reality, the world was quiet.
For a while, it was a profound relief. Maruki hadn’t realized just how taxing his work with Azathoth had been until it was no longer necessary. When the world shimmered one last time before settling into itself — his dream finally realized — he fell into a deep, restorative sleep. Azathoth’s final kindness: ensconcing him safely in his Palace to rest. To give himself time.
Perhaps some would see it as a cruel twist of fate that utopia has no place for him.
But Maruki knew the deal when he made it.
He’s had years to accept being forgotten in favor of a better world.
He experiences it daily: Rumi’s eyes passing right over him in a crowd, her laughter bright as she walked arm-in-arm with a friend. She was happy—truly happy. Kawakami, across from him on the subway, buried in a book. Shibusawa at a crosswalk, no reason to look his way. Even the Phantom Thieves, posing cheerily for a photo, thanked him with the polite distance reserved for older strangers.
It’s a small price for perfection.
But with no work left to be done, no one who knows him, and no profession to return to, Maruki is left with...himself. For the first time, he has nothing and no one else to direct his focus toward.
He should feel relieved. Instead, he’s unsettled.
With hindsight—the gift of being the sole custodian of their old world’s memories—Maruki can see how unhealthy he’d been. If anyone had come to him as a counselor with his old lifestyle, he’d have told them to focus on themselves. Now he has that chance.
To do...what?
It doesn't bother him.
The savior is the only one left imperfect.
Maruki’s Palace should be silent. There should be no disturbances in perfection. Yet one day, as he paces its halls, a lone shadow emerges from the dark edges. Its form is indistinct, draped in its white trench coat, its face obscured under the weight of its otherwise shadowy body. Despite the dimness of the Palace, the creature seems drenched, as though it had walked through a storm.
“You have a problem case,” the shadow says flatly. Its voice is a hollow, echoing rasp.
Maruki’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
No one should be beyond the reach of his utopia.
Pale fingers hovered just above her shoulder, hesitant. They had no reason to wake her, no obligation to interfere.
And yet, something deep inside compelled him to act.
Gently, his hand settled on her shoulder- fingers clasping gently as they would shake her awake. Or at least attempt to.
The man's flat brown cap obscures the look of concern in his eyes as his voice speaks over the calm rustle of trees that must have sung to this young woman a sweet lullaby. "Hey, um...you will get a cold if you stay out in the open like this." Concern lingered in his voice, soft and uncertain, as though he wasn’t used to approaching strangers like this. "Are you alright?"
Maruki let out a slow breath, staring at the words on his screen. His own writing, neat yet clinical, laid out every single detail, every calculated misdirection. There was no hesitation in his notes, no indication of the gnawing discomfort that was beginning to settle in his chest.
Still, he scrunched up slightly, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. His temples slightly ached, perhaps from the strain of that entire conversation. The soft hum of his office lights felt like a relentless pressure against his skull.
His hand drifted to his phone. His fingers hovered over the screen, itching—itching—to press the call button.
He could do it. Right now.
Dial the number, tell her everything.
Every flaw. Every inconsistency in her thoughts. Every problem she couldn’t even see in herself.
He could fix her. Right now.
A shudder ran through his shoulders.
But, no. The lie wouldn’t hold if he played his hand too early. He knew that. The story had to unfold properly, organically, at the right pace.
A slow exhale, then. His fingers curled away from the phone, pressing against the edge of his desk instead.
He exhaled sharply, pushing back from his desk with too much force, the chair rolling a few inches away. The motion left him unsteady, unmoored, but he embraced it, let himself sway for a moment before he stepped forward, moving without direction, without purpose.
He laughed. A small, breathy thing that barely had form, but it curled in his throat, and suddenly, he couldn’t stop moving.
His body felt strangely light.
The exhaustion clung to him, but so did something else. Something that settled beneath his skin and coiled in his chest like a whispering, writhing thing.
What an odd woman she is.
What a
strange,
strange woman.
His shoes barely made a sound as he started moving. Not quite pacing. More like gliding, each step carrying a strange rhythm.
He hummed softly to himself. A tune with no real melody, no real structure—just something for his lips to follow.
He lifted his arms slightly, twirling—once, just slightly, like a man moving through the motions of a forgotten dance.
Azathoth stirred, murmuring through the cracks in his mind.
This is taking too long.
"Patience," he murmured, as if the thought were something external, something separate from himself. His voice lilted with amusement, with something just a shade too delighted.
His steps were light, almost playful, as he wove through the space of his office. He spun once, a lazy, uncoordinated turn that sent his lab coat billowing just slightly.
He caught sight of himself in the reflection of the window. His own face, so calm, so unreadable, but the eyes—
The eyes betrayed him.
There was something burning there, something hollow and ravenous.
His lips twisted—not quite a smile, not quite a grimace.
How long has it been?
How long since he spoke to someone, really spoke to them—not as a doctor, not as a researcher, but as himself?
The thought hit him like a dull hammer to the chest. He staggered, fingers brushing against the edge of his desk as he steadied himself.
Far too long.
And yet, there she was—so close, so close, and yet still so broken.
He closed his eyes.
She would stay. She had to stay.
She was so lost, so fractured, and he had the answer.
Why did she resist? Why did she keep looking for her suffering like it was some missing limb she refused to let go of?
Did she seriously think she was meant to suffer?
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
Now he just had to...wait for her message. His phone wasn't on silent, he can easily check if someone messages him. Since no one else but her remembered him, it would be far easier to discern that.
The ride home was long, but it gave Hamuko the time to think about what she needed. What she had to find... could she find it in ten days? Checking on her phone, there was no indication that an explosion in a lab run by the Kirijo Group ever existed... hell, most explosions were completely unrelated accidents according to the internet.
And supposedly, none of them had been fatal.
That's strange. But ALL of this is strange. Tomorrow, she'd set off for the Port Island, and maybe...
The train stopped, dropping her off at her station. She doesn't take a lot of time like usual, either getting some groceries for dinner or going out to eat - tonight she hurries right to the convenience store to grab a sandwich and start chowing down, pulling out her phone to plug her next appointment in her calendar, to check which lines lead to Tatsumi Port Island, to double check if she can find that old military base or if she has to hoof it and try to track it on foot, to--
Oh.
Slowing to a stop, and... looking at the number she'd collected earlier.
After a moment of thought, Hamuko texted him.
☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ Sorry for the late text but I'M HOOOOOME! I'll be in town on the 15th and totally free till 3pm LMK if you still wanna meet up!
Despite her cheerful texting as she walked, Hamuko's expression was set in her thought. I just need to find proof that SEES was real. I have to find an Evoker or something like that. Or maybe, just maybe, I can find Aigis. A literal anti-Shadow weapon proves I'm right.
Maruki had buried himself in an old, dust-laden book, something from the classics section that had long since been forgotten by the rest of the world. The kind of book that sat idly on a shelf for years, waiting for a reader who might never come.
He had liked the idea of that. A story no one bothered to read anymore.
But even as his eyes traced over the words, his mind wasn’t truly there. Not completely.
So when his phone buzzed against the desk, the sound cut through the stagnant silence like a razor’s edge.
His head snapped toward it.
And then—he stilled.
The notification on his screen was unmistakable.
Arisato: 1 New Message.
His fingers twitched. He could unlock it, open it, read it immediately. It would be so easy.
But instead, he exhaled slowly, deliberately, and pointedly put the phone back down.
His status would show online. That much was inevitable.
She would see that he had been there, that he could have responded instantly—but didn’t.
Let her sit with that.
Let her wonder.
He picked the book back up, but the words meant even less than before.
He wasn't really reading.
His mind was elsewhere, spiraling through the ever-tightening corridors of his own thoughts.
Arisato.
Thirty minutes passed before he finally allowed himself to pick up the phone again.
He kept his response measured, neutral.
Glad you made it home safely. And noted—I'll see what I can do. You sure you want to spend part of your free day with a middle aged weirdo like me?
You must have better options than that.
...Or are you just that determined to prove your flirting skills aren’t rusty?
Thirty minutes was plenty of time - Hamuko got home, scarfed down her dinner, and had set to scouring the internet for any sign of things how they used to be. Manual inputs of sites, trying to follow dead links, anything - she took a note down to check the library once those were turning up blank, archived newspapers might...
Shibusawa: 3 new messages
Hamuko saw the note flashing after her phone buzzed, but refocused for the moment. Investigate the Kirijo Group. Go to Gekkoukan?
And tonight, she would wait for midnight. Fuck, if she was going to try and wait for the Dark Hour, she better at least be armed - Hamuko got up and searched her apartment, searching the boxes that she never unpacked, sighing as she eventually only found her can of mace and picking out a kitchen knife she would be willing to sacrifice. She'd have to find some kind of useful implement if she re-encountered the supernatural...
Turning over the knife in her hand about half an hour later, restlessly fidgeting and listening to music pounding in her ears through her old favorite headphones from high school... these cute headphones that Fuuka had touched up for her, made even more high quality and standard.
Let it go, let it out, let it go, let it out Take a deep breath, deep breath (Deep breath, deep breath) Lay low, lay high, lay low, lay high Until you feel the vibes, now touch the sky
A little more than an hour to midnight... the Dark Hour hadn't reappeared in the entirety of the strange six months she 'remembered' things from before, but now that she was aware, she had to cross it off the list.
Finally, Hamuko reached for her phone, still tapping her foot to the beat and carefully holding the knife against the back of the phone to not drop either as she typed back.
It can be both!!! And even if there were more options I would be ruthless anyway Life is short!! Hit on cute boys!!!!
Should I look up movies that day? Or you're maybe aware of that area better than me, is there something fun like a good restaurant or karaoke bar? I'm down for whatever!
Welp, it seemed she was back to being busy again. Maruki had already set aside his phone and went back to reading, his foot bouncing on the floor as he counted the minutes with each tick of the clock and the easy papery sighs of the book. Usually one would think barely reading one chapter in a span of a 30 minutes was already too damn slow but it was in those moments that he found himself going slowly to savour each aspect of a book. Annotating it. Analysing it. Reviewing it. It helped him pass the time.
When he heard her ping again this time it was a more at ease. Just 5 minutes after-! Totally normal.
Though her text itself...
Cute.
Huh.
A breath hitched in his throat, and he exhaled through his nose, pressing his fist lightly against his lips, as though physically stopping himself from entertaining whatever that feeling was. He was at least a decade older than her—so how did she find him remotely cute?
...Well. That was something to shove deep into the back of his mind and never think about again.
He cleared his throat, shaking his head and focusing instead on the actual contents of her message. A hang-out. A casual day out with her, a chance to make her stay just a little longer.
The movies sounded like a safe option.
It had been a while since he last went to one, but there was a kind of escapism in it that suited him. To sit in the dark, lose himself in a world someone else had crafted—yes, that was something he could work with.
Movies sound good. I haven't really been to a cinema hall in ages though-! I swear if they ask me to get rid of my snacks...
Years, really. It had been years since he's watched movies with anyone. Between the research and the counselling sessions he never really found the time to dwelve into something romantic.
A movie was a good start—casual, low stakes, just two people watching something thought-provoking together. But after?
He couldn’t just leave it there.
He had to make sure she lingered a little longer, had to make sure she wasn’t too eager to leave.
Somewhere relaxing. Somewhere engaging. Somewhere that aligned with his reality.
That said, if you’re free after the movie, there’s an aquarium at Shinagawa I’ve been meaning to check out. I hear it’s a lovely spot from other students—something about the way the jellyfish are displayed, it’s supposed to be kind of mesmerizing. They have a really big Penguin exhibit there too :D
For the first time this evening, Hamuko's thoughts broke away from her plan. She stared down at the reply text, blinking a little in surprise.
An... aquarium.
Hah! Something about that shouldn't feel so surprising, but it was... a shockingly cute date idea. And unlike a lot of art, she'd noticed, the animals and nature all seemed untouched.
"Shibusawa... did you notice that too?" she asked, a warmth and relief spreading in her heart. Maybe he only subconsciously realized it, that animals were all the same. That they were charming, and pretty, epitomizing life in its strangeness and beauty. She laughed to herself - of course, she could just as easily be reading way too much into it. But...
It felt right.
꒰⁎˃ ॢꇴ ॢ˂⁎꒱➴ෆ⃛ AQUARIUM!!!! YES that sounds AMAZING I haven't been to one in forever!!
For a moment Maruki felt a pit in his stomach. Was he...too forward? Maybe he shouldn't have assumed more than he could have handled but-
Ah.
Guess there will be a new experience for either of us in store then :) And hey, if the conversation dries up, at least the fish will be good company. They don’t seem to have many complaints about their lives. Maybe we could learn a thing or two.
Her exploration brought her a lot of answers - not everything was gone, even if a lot of it seemed to have been glossed over. Whatever supernatural force was affecting things couldn't hide it all though - deep in the bottom of her new favorite bag, wrapped in cloth to stay hidden, was an Evoker.
She didn't need it today. But she wasn't going to let that thing out of her sight, not while she worked to find out what in the hell was going on.
All of her sleuthing aside, though - she was looking forward to meeting up with Shibusawa. He was such a mixed bag when they texted about nothing in particular, but there was a realness to him, a sadness... Hamuko was determined to let him know that he wasn't alone in all of this. It was for him, and anyone else 'left behind' like the two of them, that Hamuko wanted to fight for now.
Double checking the address in her messages with the theater she found out of the station, Hamuko felt a bit relieved and a little curious what the 'date' would be like, even if it'd probably be pretty obvious it was only pretense to get him to show up again.
Something is amiss, Azathoth's voice would speak to him while his real body drifted away in its slumber.
Takuto never really dreamt. Even if he did...his dreams would revert back to Azathoth. A curdling black mess of tentacles overlapping each other, it left him feeling slightly emptier when he woke up in the morning feeling no less exhausted then he already did.
There was a really strange "dream" (meeting) that he had where Azathoth attempted playing chess with him.
He never really went beyond what that dream meant.
Is it...related to the problem case?
Yes.
I see.
And what will you do about it?
I am earning her trust. Like I earned humanity's trust and the phanton thieves' trust.
Did you go on dates with every single person in the damn world to earn their trust?
This is not a date.
"Then what is it?"
What was it you wanted to share before...Azathoth?
She's earned something from her past dream.
What?
If you don’t wish for me to interfere, fix this mess, dreamer. She's going to be a problem.
In the next 5 to 10 minutes, Maruki ignored the buzz in his phone and simply walked among the different pedestrians, this time wearing a simple cozy blue hoodie he had pulled over his head, paired with a pair of slightly tinted glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.
His hair was still a brushed up wavy mess and it was clear that for whatever reason- Shibusawa had a certain stillness to him.
The street remained busier than ever. And then he found her standing at the spot where the movie posters were lined up on full display.
But first he needed to test a theory.
A few messages would pop up on Hamuko’s phone.
I am here too.
Can you find me in the crowd ๏̯͡๏
If only to gauge whether she has already started to forget his face. That's what happened when he went to restaurants or to other places and offered his identification and number, everyone swiftly forgot how he looked like after he was done with their service.
Spot him in the crowd! Okay. Hamuko immediately looked up and did a quick scan.
Looking for brown... brown hair? Black hair. No, wait, was he clean shaven? She really wasn't paying a lot of attention in their talk, was she? She'd just recognized the way he stood, the way he sounded--
After a bit of looking, going from a cursory glance to more carefully studying, it almost seemed like she wouldn't find him - that is, until her gaze caught him again.
There he is. Suddenly the look of him clicked right into place the moment she recognized the way his mouth looked so, so tired and sad - she'd never forget that. The rest of the details filled right back in immediately, and she jogged over to him.
"Found you! Hoh hoh, thought the hoodie would be enough to trick me, huh?"
Shibusawa prepared himself in the meantime. He pocketed his phone and looked away, waiting out his time so that when he finally probes...the effect might just end up taking place and she will even forget why she was texting this random number for no reason. Why was she dressed for a date? A common fresh state like any other experiment where everything goes back to the control and ideal solution: An individual who didn't suffer.
He heard those footsteps making its way over to him. He falls short for a moment before levelling his gaze again at...Hamuko. Huh.
She found him after all.
For a moment surprise flickered on his face, causing him to step back. She...how did she recognize him? How did she-
She's talking.
"The hoodie...oh no," he fixed the hood over his head to make sure it doesn't slip off at the very mention of it. "I was...not exactly sure if I would be able to recognize you and I didn't want to make it awkward by running into someone else."
The slightly brown tilted glasses shift- nearly concealing Shibusawa's eyes along with the amusement in them. "What do you think was missing in my carefully crafted disguise?"
"I recognized your expression!" Hamuko answered plainly, shifting the bag up on her shoulder. Shibusawa kinda looked like he rolled out of bed and... that was weirdly endearing in its own way.
Or maybe she was just going crazy from not having anyone to have a meaningful conversation with.
"You can catch me because I always wear bobby pins here," she explained, tapping the left side of her head. XXII. Even if she felt more like wearing her hair mostly down, she was fine of getting an almost side-shaved look with just the pins.
"Well, the showing is soon, right? Let's get some popcorn!"
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The "Problem Case"...
That's the world that most perceive, anyway. A world dominated by a once-sleeping god, one deeply connected to cognitive reality, one that has carried out an attempt to control the population...
...to spare them. To free them all from their hurt.
In 2017, Hamuko Arisato was meant to be 25. Meant to have graduated from Gekkoukan High School, attended some college, she'd dated here and there even - everyone remembered her for her brilliant, jovial personality and her outstanding academics. Sharp as a tack, inspirational, a veritable leader in anything she did - getting ready to settle down and start a family.
But something unsettling happened. It's in her records, now - suddenly the young woman started sleeping far too often. Lost her job. Was discovered undressed in the middle of winter, blacked out and laying in the street. Her body was fine, but psychologists and psychiatrists noted strange incongruousness with memory.
Hamuko Arisato recalls all of the years leading up as they happened, but claims to feel violently disconnected from reality due to memories reflecting another life entirely. Referral to specialist needed.
She's shipped from specialist to specialist. Gradually from a general practitioner into the cognitive psience field, even.
Subject has become better at masking her distress as well as more attuned to reality. Incongruent memories persist, causing depressive episodes and inability to connect to others.
As for Hamuko? She's not sure what to do. It feels... like having two lifetimes living in her mind. It makes her... tired. Maybe this was all just a terrible dream. Maybe she just needed to live with the hallucinations. Nobody felt right. But maybe it was her. For lack of a way to cope, Hamuko was asleep outside of yet another research office, passed out on the bench before her scheduled appointment.
1/2
The other half...
It was hard to explain why, so many times to so many people. It's important that she sleeps. She has to sleep. Stop, stop calling her, if she gets pulled away then... then...!
But the warmth on her shoulder beckons. In spite of herself, the dream of touch calls her, pulls her away, out of the dream, out of--
no subject
The face of someone else. The touch of someone else. Hamuko's heart settles and she exhales, a bit, her mind catching up.
Concern... she met the look with a soft smile, settling a little.
"Oh. Hello, I'm. Sorry I worried you. I keep dozing off when I shouldn't, hah hah..." she shook her head, fiddling for the phone in her hand and plucking the bluetooth earbuds out of her ears. Checking the time... "Whew.. you saved me there, I almost slept through the start of my appointment."
no subject
People still did care for each other. Of course they did, it wouldn't be an ideal world if they didn't. But the only right thing to do there after was to politely step away. Maruki would usually take over from here.
The stranger did none of that.
"That makes me even more worried if I will be honest," he chuckles lightly, glasses obscuring his eyes as he adjusted his brown coat. He watched her straighten up before checking the time.
He knows why of course.
"It's no big deal, I tend to lose track of time myself- figured I could spare someone else from suffering the same fate," his smile becomes a bit wry. "Please tell me you have atleast some time to spare to make it to your appointment on time."
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He's like me.
He's there, he's present, more than just pleasantries. Expressions she only remembers in dreams. Expressions she used to see from her loved ones back in... high school? No, back in that other dream. That other life.
He's going to walk away.
A small panic rose in her chest. Don't leave. Right now in the moment would be the 'appropriate' time to walk off, the stranger's body language even looking like that, but more than anything she needed to talk to him just a little more, to know she wasn't crazy--
"Say-- you're really handsome," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could control herself. Her face burned bright red, embarrassed at herself and her desperation, but she tried to play it off by twirling the end of a lock of hair around her finger.
You know he won't buy that. The bags under your eyes, your sleeping in public, you're a wreck."U-um, I mean... won't you sit with me for a little bit? It's a little lonely waiting by myself. Um! I'm Arisato, by the way. Nice to meet you."
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But her sudden statement made him freeze.
"Say—you're really handsome."
His breath hitched, more from surprise than anything else. He blinked, turning to look at her again. The faintest furrow of his brow deepened as he took in the bright red flush on her face.
For a moment, the world shrank to just them.
The rush of wind through the trees softened, leaving behind only the sound of her unsteady breathing and the rustle of his coat as he shifted.
Maruki knew what he should do. He had been observing her quietly for a while now, preparing to oversee one of her sessions in secret to understand more about her. Hamuko Arisato, the mysterious problem case—her mind weighed down by memories of a life that shouldn’t exist. He should have stayed at a distance. Professional. Detached.
And yet, here she was. The desperation was unmistakable—so familiar.
Someone begging to be heard. To be s̶̫̈a̷̤̐v̸̢̈́e̴̜̚d̴̮͊
His response wasn’t immediate, but his voice finally broke the silence.
“Well...” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m not sure I buy that, but—thank you. Really. That was...unexpected.” A small, self-effacing grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
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It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Since someone talked to me like this.
His gaze lingered on her. The exhaustion beneath her eyes. The way her hands fidgeted. Her nervous smile.
She needed this.
“Shibusawa.” He introduced himself with a name that didn’t belong to him but still felt safe. “I’ve got an appointment too. Fifteen minutes, just like you. Fair enough—I’ll sit for a bit.”
He lowered himself onto the bench next to her, careful not to crowd her space. His brown flat cap remained firmly in place as he adjusted his coat. He looked down at his tan shoes as a leaf fluttered and made its way close to them as he shook it off.
Then Maruki—Shibusawa—turned to her with a grin. It was boyish, awkward, but the hint of amusement behind it was genuine.
“Tell me, Arisato-san,” he teased, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Are you always this expressive right after waking up? Or did you really not get enough sleep last night?”
A silent question, just to gauge her.
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"You're seeing a specialist too, Shibusawa-san? The way all the doctors talked, I didn't think anyone else going through something! Oops, there I go, oversharing - you don't have to say anything if you don't want to," she hastily pulled back her words - after so long of people never responding well to talking about negativity....
But Shibusawa didn't have the same look. There was something present in his expression, even as he was trying to wall off and close away. The fact that he was doing that at all, even-- Hamuko leaned in a little almost entirely subconsciously.
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the deleted comment from maruki lmao
For a while, it was a profound relief. Maruki hadn’t realized just how taxing his work with Azathoth had been until it was no longer necessary. When the world shimmered one last time before settling into itself — his dream finally realized — he fell into a deep, restorative sleep. Azathoth’s final kindness: ensconcing him safely in his Palace to rest. To give himself time.
Perhaps some would see it as a cruel twist of fate that utopia has no place for him.
But Maruki knew the deal when he made it.
He’s had years to accept being forgotten in favor of a better world.
He experiences it daily: Rumi’s eyes passing right over him in a crowd, her laughter bright as she walked arm-in-arm with a friend. She was happy—truly happy. Kawakami, across from him on the subway, buried in a book. Shibusawa at a crosswalk, no reason to look his way. Even the Phantom Thieves, posing cheerily for a photo, thanked him with the polite distance reserved for older strangers.
It’s a small price for perfection.
But with no work left to be done, no one who knows him, and no profession to return to, Maruki is left with...himself. For the first time, he has nothing and no one else to direct his focus toward.
He should feel relieved. Instead, he’s unsettled.
With hindsight—the gift of being the sole custodian of their old world’s memories—Maruki can see how unhealthy he’d been. If anyone had come to him as a counselor with his old lifestyle, he’d have told them to focus on themselves. Now he has that chance.
To do...what?
The savior is the only one left imperfect.
Maruki’s Palace should be silent. There should be no disturbances in perfection. Yet one day, as he paces its halls, a lone shadow emerges from the dark edges. Its form is indistinct, draped in its white trench coat, its face obscured under the weight of its otherwise shadowy body. Despite the dimness of the Palace, the creature seems drenched, as though it had walked through a storm.
“You have a problem case,” the shadow says flatly. Its voice is a hollow, echoing rasp.
Maruki’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
No one should be beyond the reach of his utopia.
Pale fingers hovered just above her shoulder, hesitant. They had no reason to wake her, no obligation to interfere.
And yet, something deep inside compelled him to act.
Gently, his hand settled on her shoulder- fingers clasping gently as they would shake her awake. Or at least attempt to.
The man's flat brown cap obscures the look of concern in his eyes as his voice speaks over the calm rustle of trees that must have sung to this young woman a sweet lullaby. "Hey, um...you will get a cold if you stay out in the open like this." Concern lingered in his voice, soft and uncertain, as though he wasn’t used to approaching strangers like this. "Are you alright?"
Sinking... (that evening?night?)
Still, he scrunched up slightly, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. His temples slightly ached, perhaps from the strain of that entire conversation. The soft hum of his office lights felt like a relentless pressure against his skull.
His hand drifted to his phone. His fingers hovered over the screen, itching—itching—to press the call button.
He could do it. Right now.
Dial the number, tell her everything.
Every flaw. Every inconsistency in her thoughts. Every problem she couldn’t even see in herself.
He could fix her. Right now.
A shudder ran through his shoulders.
But, no. The lie wouldn’t hold if he played his hand too early. He knew that. The story had to unfold properly, organically, at the right pace.
A slow exhale, then. His fingers curled away from the phone, pressing against the edge of his desk instead.
He exhaled sharply, pushing back from his desk with too much force, the chair rolling a few inches away. The motion left him unsteady, unmoored, but he embraced it, let himself sway for a moment before he stepped forward, moving without direction, without purpose.
He laughed. A small, breathy thing that barely had form, but it curled in his throat, and suddenly, he couldn’t stop moving.
The exhaustion clung to him, but so did something else. Something that settled beneath his skin and coiled in his chest like a whispering, writhing thing.
What an odd woman she is.
What a
strange woman.
His shoes barely made a sound as he started moving. Not quite pacing. More like gliding, each step carrying a strange rhythm.
He hummed softly to himself. A tune with no real melody, no real structure—just something for his lips to follow.
He lifted his arms slightly, twirling—once, just slightly, like a man moving through the motions of a forgotten dance.
Azathoth stirred, murmuring through the cracks in his mind.
"Patience," he murmured, as if the thought were something external, something separate from himself. His voice lilted with amusement, with something just a shade too delighted.
His steps were light, almost playful, as he wove through the space of his office. He spun once, a lazy, uncoordinated turn that sent his lab coat billowing just slightly.
He caught sight of himself in the reflection of the window. His own face, so calm, so unreadable, but the eyes—
The eyes betrayed him.
There was something burning there, something hollow and ravenous.
His lips twisted—not quite a smile, not quite a grimace.
How long has it been?
How long since he spoke to someone, really spoke to them—not as a doctor, not as a researcher, but as himself?
The thought hit him like a dull hammer to the chest. He staggered, fingers brushing against the edge of his desk as he steadied himself.
Far too long.And yet, there she was—so close, so close, and yet still so broken.
He closed his eyes.
She would stay. She had to stay.
She was so lost, so fractured, and he had the answer.
Why did she resist? Why did she keep looking for her suffering like it was some missing limb she refused to let go of?
Did she seriously think she was meant to suffer?
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
Now he just had to...wait for her message. His phone wasn't on silent, he can easily check if someone messages him. Since no one else but her remembered him, it would be far easier to discern that.
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And supposedly, none of them had been fatal.
That's strange. But ALL of this is strange. Tomorrow, she'd set off for the Port Island, and maybe...
The train stopped, dropping her off at her station. She doesn't take a lot of time like usual, either getting some groceries for dinner or going out to eat - tonight she hurries right to the convenience store to grab a sandwich and start chowing down, pulling out her phone to plug her next appointment in her calendar, to check which lines lead to Tatsumi Port Island, to double check if she can find that old military base or if she has to hoof it and try to track it on foot, to--
Oh.
Slowing to a stop, and... looking at the number she'd collected earlier.
After a moment of thought, Hamuko texted him.
☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ
Sorry for the late text but I'M HOOOOOME!
I'll be in town on the 15th and totally free till 3pm
LMK if you still wanna meet up!
Despite her cheerful texting as she walked, Hamuko's expression was set in her thought. I just need to find proof that SEES was real. I have to find an Evoker or something like that. Or maybe, just maybe, I can find Aigis. A literal anti-Shadow weapon proves I'm right.
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He had liked the idea of that. A story no one bothered to read anymore.
But even as his eyes traced over the words, his mind wasn’t truly there. Not completely.
So when his phone buzzed against the desk, the sound cut through the stagnant silence like a razor’s edge.
His head snapped toward it.
And then—he stilled.
The notification on his screen was unmistakable.
Arisato: 1 New Message.
His fingers twitched. He could unlock it, open it, read it immediately. It would be so easy.
But instead, he exhaled slowly, deliberately, and pointedly put the phone back down.
His status would show online. That much was inevitable.
She would see that he had been there, that he could have responded instantly—but didn’t.
Let her sit with that.
Let her wonder.
He picked the book back up, but the words meant even less than before.
He wasn't really reading.
His mind was elsewhere, spiraling through the ever-tightening corridors of his own thoughts.
Arisato.
Thirty minutes passed before he finally allowed himself to pick up the phone again.
He kept his response measured, neutral.
Glad you made it home safely. And noted—I'll see what I can do. You sure you want to spend part of your free day with a middle aged weirdo like me?
You must have better options than that.
...Or are you just that determined to prove your flirting skills aren’t rusty?
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Shibusawa: 3 new messages
Hamuko saw the note flashing after her phone buzzed, but refocused for the moment. Investigate the Kirijo Group. Go to Gekkoukan?
And tonight, she would wait for midnight. Fuck, if she was going to try and wait for the Dark Hour, she better at least be armed - Hamuko got up and searched her apartment, searching the boxes that she never unpacked, sighing as she eventually only found her can of mace and picking out a kitchen knife she would be willing to sacrifice. She'd have to find some kind of useful implement if she re-encountered the supernatural...
Turning over the knife in her hand about half an hour later, restlessly fidgeting and listening to music pounding in her ears through her old favorite headphones from high school... these cute headphones that Fuuka had touched up for her, made even more high quality and standard.
Let it go, let it out, let it go, let it out
Take a deep breath, deep breath
(Deep breath, deep breath)
Lay low, lay high, lay low, lay high
Until you feel the vibes, now touch the sky
A little more than an hour to midnight... the Dark Hour hadn't reappeared in the entirety of the strange six months she 'remembered' things from before, but now that she was aware, she had to cross it off the list.
Finally, Hamuko reached for her phone, still tapping her foot to the beat and carefully holding the knife against the back of the phone to not drop either as she typed back.
It can be both!!!
And even if there were more options I would be ruthless anyway
Life is short!! Hit on cute boys!!!!
Should I look up movies that day? Or you're maybe aware of that area better than me, is there something fun like a good restaurant or karaoke bar? I'm down for whatever!
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When he heard her ping again this time it was a more at ease. Just 5 minutes after-! Totally normal.
Though her text itself...
Cute.
Huh.
A breath hitched in his throat, and he exhaled through his nose, pressing his fist lightly against his lips, as though physically stopping himself from entertaining whatever that feeling was. He was at least a decade older than her—so how did she find him remotely cute?
...Well. That was something to shove deep into the back of his mind and never think about again.
He cleared his throat, shaking his head and focusing instead on the actual contents of her message. A hang-out. A casual day out with her, a chance to make her stay just a little longer.
The movies sounded like a safe option.
It had been a while since he last went to one, but there was a kind of escapism in it that suited him. To sit in the dark, lose himself in a world someone else had crafted—yes, that was something he could work with.
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Movies sound good. I haven't really been to a cinema hall in ages though-! I swear if they ask me to get rid of my snacks...
Years, really. It had been years since he's watched movies with anyone. Between the research and the counselling sessions he never really found the time to dwelve into something romantic.
A movie was a good start—casual, low stakes, just two people watching something thought-provoking together. But after?
He couldn’t just leave it there.
He had to make sure she lingered a little longer, had to make sure she wasn’t too eager to leave.
Somewhere relaxing. Somewhere engaging. Somewhere that aligned with his reality.
That said, if you’re free after the movie, there’s an aquarium at Shinagawa I’ve been meaning to check out. I hear it’s a lovely spot from other students—something about the way the jellyfish are displayed, it’s supposed to be kind of mesmerizing. They have a really big Penguin exhibit there too :D
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An... aquarium.
Hah! Something about that shouldn't feel so surprising, but it was... a shockingly cute date idea. And unlike a lot of art, she'd noticed, the animals and nature all seemed untouched.
"Shibusawa... did you notice that too?" she asked, a warmth and relief spreading in her heart. Maybe he only subconsciously realized it, that animals were all the same. That they were charming, and pretty, epitomizing life in its strangeness and beauty. She laughed to herself - of course, she could just as easily be reading way too much into it. But...
It felt right.
꒰⁎˃ ॢꇴ ॢ˂⁎꒱➴ෆ⃛
AQUARIUM!!!!
YES that sounds AMAZING I haven't been to one in forever!!
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Ah.
Guess there will be a new experience for either of us in store then :)
And hey, if the conversation dries up, at least the fish will be good company.
They don’t seem to have many complaints about their lives. Maybe we could learn a thing or two.
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The next 'date'
She didn't need it today. But she wasn't going to let that thing out of her sight, not while she worked to find out what in the hell was going on.
All of her sleuthing aside, though - she was looking forward to meeting up with Shibusawa. He was such a mixed bag when they texted about nothing in particular, but there was a realness to him, a sadness... Hamuko was determined to let him know that he wasn't alone in all of this. It was for him, and anyone else 'left behind' like the two of them, that Hamuko wanted to fight for now.
Double checking the address in her messages with the theater she found out of the station, Hamuko felt a bit relieved and a little curious what the 'date' would be like, even if it'd probably be pretty obvious it was only pretense to get him to show up again.
(((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))
I made it!
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Takuto never really dreamt. Even if he did...his dreams would revert back to Azathoth. A curdling black mess of tentacles overlapping each other, it left him feeling slightly emptier when he woke up in the morning feeling no less exhausted then he already did.
There was a really strange "dream" (meeting) that he had where Azathoth attempted playing chess with him.
He never really went beyond what that dream meant.
Is it...related to the problem case?
Yes.
I see.
And what will you do about it?
I am earning her trust. Like I earned humanity's trust and the phanton thieves' trust.
Did you go on dates with every single person in the damn world to earn their trust?
This is not a date.
"Then what is it?"
What was it you wanted to share before...Azathoth?
She's earned something from her past dream.
What?
If you don’t wish for me to interfere, fix this mess, dreamer. She's going to be a problem.
That can't be, that's-
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In the next 5 to 10 minutes, Maruki ignored the buzz in his phone and simply walked among the different pedestrians, this time wearing a simple cozy blue hoodie he had pulled over his head, paired with a pair of slightly tinted glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.
His hair was still a brushed up wavy mess and it was clear that for whatever reason- Shibusawa had a certain stillness to him.
The street remained busier than ever.
And then he found her standing at the spot where the movie posters were lined up on full display.
But first he needed to test a theory.
A few messages would pop up on Hamuko’s phone.
I am here too.
Can you find me in the crowd ๏̯͡๏
If only to gauge whether she has already started to forget his face. That's what happened when he went to restaurants or to other places and offered his identification and number, everyone swiftly forgot how he looked like after he was done with their service.
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Looking for brown... brown hair? Black hair. No, wait, was he clean shaven? She really wasn't paying a lot of attention in their talk, was she? She'd just recognized the way he stood, the way he sounded--
After a bit of looking, going from a cursory glance to more carefully studying, it almost seemed like she wouldn't find him - that is, until her gaze caught him again.
There he is. Suddenly the look of him clicked right into place the moment she recognized the way his mouth looked so, so tired and sad - she'd never forget that. The rest of the details filled right back in immediately, and she jogged over to him.
"Found you! Hoh hoh, thought the hoodie would be enough to trick me, huh?"
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He sighs as he looks up.
God did he need a smoke right now.He tapped his foot on the ground and waited.
Until-
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She found him after all.
For a moment surprise flickered on his face, causing him to step back. She...how did she recognize him? How did she-
She's talking.
"The hoodie...oh no," he fixed the hood over his head to make sure it doesn't slip off at the very mention of it. "I was...not exactly sure if I would be able to recognize you and I didn't want to make it awkward by running into someone else."
The slightly brown tilted glasses shift- nearly concealing Shibusawa's eyes along with the amusement in them. "What do you think was missing in my carefully crafted disguise?"
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Or maybe she was just going crazy from not having anyone to have a meaningful conversation with.
"You can catch me because I always wear bobby pins here," she explained, tapping the left side of her head. XXII. Even if she felt more like wearing her hair mostly down, she was fine of getting an almost side-shaved look with just the pins.
"Well, the showing is soon, right? Let's get some popcorn!"
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