Personal Model - P5R

Prison of Sloth - 2

Y/N's P.O.V.

"Alright, fine. I'll ask the question. What the hell is that?" Gun pointed toward a Shadow, it looks like a ghost coming from a bright pink diamond. I don't think I saw these in the last book.

"Shoot it, see what happens," Joker prods. I roll my eyes and fire a couple of rounds in the chest area. The form crumples, surrendering before I fire more. 

It's fodder. I guess Joker can mix and match and make baby Personas with other Personas. That's insane. It also seems kind of complicated, so I think I'll stick with my one. 

Since I realized how good it was to be back, I found myself in at least six more fights. Joker is unmasking everyone as we go, which is tiring, but he's having a blast. Today is kind of about him, so if he's having a ball, I'll let him have it.

"I found one!" Oracle shouts, no context given whatsoever. 

"Found one what?"

"A safe room, Skull. Moron."

Skull mumbles something under his breath and it goes over my head. That may be for the best. Ugh, I feel so low energy, but all I'm doing is fighting. It's expected.

With all the red and black stone seats taken at the table, I plop myself down on the floor with an exaggerated groan. It feels like my feet are going to swell out of my flats. At least I'm not running around in stilettos. I was at one point, but this is much better, even if I feel worn out. 

Fox sits down next to me, stifling a breath of discomfort as he adjusts himself on his left hand. he crosses his legs and uses his right forearm to brush his tail out of the way. His glove has turned a little more lilac in color, so it's time to change out the bandage. 

"Joker!" I call, raising my hand to catch the gauze he's going to toss me in a minute. As he digs in his trenchcoat, I help Yusuke pull his glove off. As long as I don't address him as his real name aloud down here, no one outside is gonna know who he is. Besides, he's taking a break from being a hero right now. We can cast the big name aside. 

"How's your hand?" I'm foolish; I know the answer, but I hope it has changed.

"It's not good, but I appreciate your asking." He answers as something hits my glove. The gauze hits my lap, and now it is time to rewrap a hero's hand. 

He's right, it isn't in very good shape at all. I don't know how to describe it, other than like red paint against a freshly purchased canvas. Things are healing the way they're supposed to me, but slower in the long run. If there's still a world on the twenty-sixth, I'm taking him to Yongen-Jaya to see Takemi. 

When I finish wrapping his hand and have ensured that his glove is on as well as it can be, it's time to go. With as much force as he can, Yusuke squeezes my arm- a sign that he's getting stronger. We established that rule when it was time for me to take care of his palm- when his grip starts to hurt, he's getting closer to normal. 

His grip is getting better, but he still has a ways to go. I'm proud of him.

...

A car ride down a spine takes us to the middle of the depths of Mementos. I know it's the middle because there's an up and a further down. It makes me queasy. 

Like before, something like the Coliseum spirals ahead of us. Instead of the stone being black and a deep red, it's a mixture of brown and rusty red. The queasy feeling from before intensifies, and it intensifies quickly. 

Bright red heels come to a stop in front of me, Panther gasping at someone in the bars. "What?! You?"

A man, presumably a gym teacher based on his outfit, with a big nose and dark, curly hair, turns his head. The whistle around his neck moves too, but nothing about him is as striking as the soullessness in his eyes.