Friday 29th April
Fortunately for him, nothing did happen in the interim. Well-he got news back from various sources that his little interventions on their behalf had worked, so that was something, but otherwise nothing had gone badly wrong during the week. There was still no information on the mystery Metaverse user, but there was no creepy intervention from his least-favourite demonic presence either, so he was taking the policy that no news on that front was good news. It was about time he started gathering more information on the rumours he'd heard but… for now, he had a couple of bigger goals. The first of which he was dealing with now.
"So," said Ruto, gliding into Wakaba's lab, "you got that mic up and running?"
"Of course," said Wakaba, glancing at him as he stepped in. "And an earpiece too, being as you'll need to hear me. The mic's all wired up to the bracers. You'll notice a new fancy button on top."
He certainly did. On the left bracer there was now a bright blue button, with a little picture of a microphone on it, and lying next to it, a slick black earpiece. Fortunately it looked just small enough to fit under his mask.
"Where do you get all these gadgets?" he chuckled, picking up the bracer and strapping it on carefully.
"Well, a woman's got to have her secrets, hasn't she?" said Wakaba, smirking at him. "Now then, I'd like you to test it out before you get too deep into that place, so make sure it works once you're in the cognitive world fully, alright?"
"Can do," said Ruto, picking up the other bracer and strapping it on, then carefully inserting the earpiece.
From there it was only a quick procedure to shift and identify a flashpoint, and then…
Ah, back in the depths again. Lovely.
A shock rang through him as a tiny chime came through his earpiece. He quickly raised the bracer to mouth level and pressed the button.
"Hi? Is it working alright?" he said, feeling more than a little awkward.
"Perfect!" Wakaba chirped over the line. "Okay, that should be everything all set for your infiltration. Be careful there!"
"I will," said Ruto, before releasing the button, and presumably their means of communication.
That's going to be weird, said Arsène.
No kidding, Ruto thought back.
For now though, he had only one objective. Get into Shido's Palace. Mash his soul into tiny little pieces. Easy.
Remember you can get hurt in here! snarled the Trumpeter, deflecting a blast of electricity from a Barong.
"I know!" Ruto hissed back, leaping out of the way.
Another blast of nuclear energy sent it reeling to the ground, dissolving into smoke in front of Ruto's eyes.
Hide! hissed the Trumpeter, but Ruto was already well ahead of him.
He leapt behind a wall, willing himself to remain invisible as he spied the man he'd been trying to trace ever since he entered the Palace: the politician Ooe—the first of the letter-holders.
His earpiece crackled on.
"Ruto, that's enough for today," said Wakaba, her voice uncompromising.
He sighed and raised the mic to his face. "But I'm so close!"
"Go any further when you're this tired and you're going to get badly hurt."
She was right, of course, and about half his Personas were screaming it at him too, but…
Ruto desist, thundered Arsène, louder than all of them. This is too much. Don't be foolish.
… Alright.
It was true he was tired and… ugh, he really just didn't want to have to deal with another hospital visit.
"I'm on my way back," he said into the mouthpiece.
"Good," sighed Wakaba.
Leaving the Palace turned out to be a whole lot easier than entering it, and it wasn't long before he was standing in Wakaba's lab again-this time slightly more intact than he had been before. Next time… next time he'd finally get that damned politician.
"Same time again, next Friday?" he asked, removing the bracers and earpiece.
"If you're up for it," said Wakaba.
Her face was set in a frown, her manner concerned—he couldn't let her think he was flaking now.
"I won't abandon you," he said.
Wakaba smiled a sad smile, then got up from her computer and walked over to him.
"I really appreciate this, you know that, don't you?" she said, grasping his shoulder gently.
"I know," said Ruto.
And he did—it was obvious, now he knew about it. The tension in her shoulders, the lines forming along her brow, the constantly tired, dull look in her eyes whenever she mentioned her work—he knew the agony she was going through. And he knew that this, however slow and frustrating their progress was, was at least something. Something after a very long time of nothing at all. So he knew. And she knew it too.
She nodded, rubbing his shoulder. "I hadn't imagined this would be so dangerous, but… it's almost a relief to finally be doing something against him."
"I understand," said Ruto. "If I was in your position I'd want him gone too."
Wakaba smiled again, but this time it was sharp around the edges. "Oh, I don't doubt that. You're a determined one."
"So are you."
She laughed, releasing his shoulder. "True! I suppose that's why we get along so well."
She took a deep breath, then glanced around her lab. "Hey, you wouldn't mind sticking around and helping me clean up, would you?"
"Of course," said Ruto.
"Be careful not to lift anything with that injured arm," she said warningly as she began unplugging the equipment.
"I won't!"
"Good." She smiled. "Now if you could get started over there…"
As usual, it wasn't long before Metaverse exhaustion began to set in when he got back.
"Long day?" asked Sojiro bemusedly as he walked in.
"Long day," Ruto confirmed, heading directly towards the stairs.
In less than a minute he'd reached the top, closed his make-shift door, and dropped flat onto his bed.
He just didn't have the constitution for long-term stress like this.
You're lucky you didn't get hurt, said Arsène.
"I know," sighed Ruto. "It's just frustrating to be so… useless! I'm usually so much better than this!"
You still need to take care of yourself.
Ruto sighed and rolled over, facing the wall. "I know that. I just have a lot on my plate at the moment. Speaking of…" He drew his phone from his pocket and checked his calendar. "I have tomorrow free. Time to see if I can't find out more about that bastard, Madarame."
That should be somewhat easier than the task we were faced with before.
"No kidding."
He'd been somewhat hamstrung in looking into it during the week, between various "I'm a normal human-being" activities he liked to do to keep up appearances and having to work to catch up on the rent payments he was beginning to slip behind on. But no one was going to bother him this weekend, which meant he had plenty of time to work out precisely what Madarame had done to gain such an ominous-looking Palace.
They've been getting worse lately, don't you think?
They'd certainly been getting more… grandiose, that was for sure.
"I have a feeling it has to do with our friend that lurks in the depths," said Ruto, clicking his phone off.
I think you are right, said Arsène, quietly. … But I also hope you are wrong.
"Yeah," muttered Ruto.
If that thing was gaining more power somehow, it could only mean bad things. It was a stable situation for now—the only truly disastrous Palace he knew of at the moment was Shido's but… if it got worse…
We can check Mementos another time, said Arsène. For now, rest. You need to recover.
Ruto turned over and closed his eyes, but he had a feeling that for all Arsène was right, his sleep wouldn't be easy at all.
2Saturday 30th April
Madarame's Palace was as grandiose and disgusting as the man himself, with gold plated walls and bright neon blues leaking out from every room. Not for the first time, Ruto found himself feeling thankful his mask had the effect of naturally dimming the intense colours of the Metaverse.
Be on your guard, warned Arsène. He might not be onto us yet, but he still appears paranoid.
Likely because of the bad media beginning to pop up around him, Ruto thought back. Seems old sins cast long shadows.
True, but we both know nothing will happen until he dies.
I'm not sure death is necessary in this case.
I hope you're right.
Deaths were difficult to cause from inside the Metaverse, in any case. Comas? Easy. Brainwashing? Harder, but certainly not impossible. Death was a constant unknown. Sometimes it happened by accident. It was true Madarame was more likely to die from a mental shutdown—he was old enough that the shock might kill him outright—but otherwise it was hard to predict. It largely depended on where they were when they finally collapsed—if it happened in traffic then there really wasn't much anyone could do. Not that anyone ever recovered from a mental shutdown anyway. Being normally comatose was one thing, being an empty shell without a soul was quite another. Honestly, it would be kinder to kill them.
But he wasn't here to linger on the merits of keeping Madarame alive or dead—he was here to more thoroughly interrogate the corruption that had made him this way.
Fortunately, while the structure was imposing, the Shadows inhabiting it were of the somewhat pathetic variety.
And the Metaverse was working as normal, which was always a plus.
Don't get cocky, warned Arsène, I don't care how puny they are, I refuse to deal with another dismemberment.
I hardly ever get dismembered!
That's what you say every time.
Well, that was hardly his problem. And like everything else in the Metaverse, it wasn't like getting dismembered in there actually meant anything. Especially not with the healing skills at his disposal.
As such, it was an easy enough matter to sneak past the guards and into the main gallery without attracting much attention. His outfit, as ever, was very useful in helping him blend in.
These portraits seem very distinct, muttered Arsène, as Ruto peered around at the blue-toned pictures.
"I agree," he murmured back. "And all of them are in school uniform too…"
Hmm. That led to a rather nasty line of thought…
I think if that were happening, Yusuke would be somewhat more worse off than he appears.
"You're right. But something's up with these."
They certainly all seem to represent real people.
"Well, we won't learn anything by sticking around here," said Ruto, taking one last look around. "Let's go on to the next room."
The next room proved a little more constructive.
"Asura Hirano," he muttered, looking at one of the portraits. "I remember that name."
She committed suicide not long ago. And she used to be a pupil of Madarame's.
"Huh," muttered Ruto, narrowing his eyes. "Students, paintings, and Madarame…"
The picture forming in his head wasn't a pleasant one. If these were all former students of Madarame's, the fact they'd manifested as paintings was more troubling than anything he'd seen so far.
Objectification.
"Got to love those traditional abuser red flags, huh?" said Ruto, unable to prevent his lip curling in disgust. "Of course he doesn't see them as people."
It might be instructive to see if we can find Yusuke.
It sure as hell wouldn't be pleasant, but it would be useful. "Alright," he sighed. "Let's go."
As it turned out, finding Yusuke didn't take long at all.
"There he is," said Ruto, staring up at the large, shifting painting.
It was Yusuke, no doubt about it, his bright blue hair and bemused, slightly distant smile accurate to a T.
You seem unhappy.
"Of course I'm unhappy, that's my friend," said Ruto, frowning.
But this is far from shocking, Arsène pointed out. We already knew he was hurting him.
Ruto let out a deep sigh. "I know. It's just… the way Yusuke talks about him, you'd think…"
It appears the intensity of Yusuke's feelings is not reciprocated in his mentor.
"No…"
He didn't know why the thought had entered his head. Maybe it was because of his relationship with his own parents, but… even though he'd known Madarame was just using Yusuke, he'd somehow thought it was more personal than that.
Certainly, Yusuke is very attached to him.
More attached than Ruto had ever been to his own absentee guardians. But of course, Yusuke didn't even realise yet…
In a sense you're lucky.
"In a sense."
Not that that could ever curb the fact that even the insane ups and downs Yusuke seemed to experience with Madarame was more than Ruto had ever experienced with his own parents. But hatred like that wasn't love, nor was it deserved. He just… had to remind himself of that, every now and again.
Come on, said Arsène. There's more we need to see.
"Right," muttered Ruto, shaking himself. "Let's go."
He had a friend to save, after all.
It didn't take too long to find it—the final confirmation he needed.
"The Infinite Spring," he murmured, reading off the plaque of the grotesque looking statue.
Seems that confirms the plagiarism rumours.
"No kidding."
A whirling mass of gold-faces leaping out of wide sheets of metal-contorted-drowning in agony. Madarame's students. His spring of inspiration, huh? And Yusuke was there, though his face was unseen, trapped in the depths of Madarame's psychological whirlpool…
Plagiarism might be the least he's dealing with.
From Yusuke's accounts of where he lived—the heating always on and off, Madarame leaving for days at a time, not enough food, constant pressure to produce more art… yeah. Plagiarism was just the tip of the horrible, abusive iceberg.
"We can't leave this be," he murmured, forcing himself to look away from the statue.
I agree, said Arsène. But first, we must talk to Yusuke.
"Yeah." Ruto just hoped he would listen.