... In which we finally face the Ruler of the mysterious palace and he rocks the foundation of everything I thought I knew—about Kasumi, and my own wishes too. Just how much will it take out of the two of us to choose the truth?

******************************************

A swift battle later, we make our way down the long hall that is covered in friendly-seeming posters reading "Happiness and Health." But all they do is grow my unease and my certainty that whoever this ruler is, they're the one behind the odd wish fulfillments.

We eventually find another large door and when I shove it open, before us lies some kind of . . . sports arena. In the middle hover a few large screens and underneath I spot a podium. "This place is enormous." Kasumi tentatively places her hands on the railing. "What could this room be?"

Before either of us can respond, she bends over, gripping her head again.

"You seem to be in pain again. Are you all right?" Akechi asks and I take a step closer as well, feeling guilty for believing her that she was fine.

"I-I'm fine!" Kasumi assures, but I can plainly see that it's a lie. "It's just that . . ." She shakes her head and stands straight again. "I can't stop thinking about that video we saw earlier . . ."

"You mean the one about Sumire-san?" Akechi asks matter-of-factly, but something about his tone feels off.

"Yes . . ." Kasumi confirms, and I could have sworn Akechi stiffens up a little. "Let's keep pushing," she says to me, sounding more desperate than determined. "I need to find out why that was shown to me!"

I give her an encouraging nod, vowing to not leave her out of my sight anymore for as long as we're here together. Whatever is happening, I can't shake the feeling that Kasumi is a crucial part of it, for whatever reason that may be . . .

But Kasumi doesn't wait for us to catch up. She dashes ahead, along the walkway that surrounds the arena, until a Shadow spawns directly in her path. "You are misguided," it sneers. "Do not search for pain. Only tragedy awaits you beyond here."

I am uncertain why, but the words make me feel a pang in my heart as well. I glimpse at Akechi. By pursuing him, am I . . . searching for tragedy too? And in that case, is that so wrong?

"Hm." He stares straight at the Shadow, disregarding me. "A newcomer."

"All these warnings of pain and tragedy!" Kasumi calls, stepping forward. "Who is your Ruler? Why do you all think you know so much about me!?"

Instead of a reply, the Shadow merely transforms, as if to taunt her.

"If you won't give me an answer, then I'll just force my way through!" Before I can think to stop her, Kasumi leaps at the Shadow, gun blazing. "I—!"

Yet no matter what she does, it has no effect. It evades her bless attacks, displays immunity to her physical strikes, and blocks her gunfire. Kasumi pants, kneeling in front of the Shadow that stares down at her, snickering.

"Stop rushing into things!" I follow close behind Akechi when he vaults forward to her side. "Just calm down."

Kasumi looks at him with despair as he pulls her up by her arm, steadying her. I join him, and we flank her on each side, as if to shield her—from the Shadow, or from herself? "Oh . . . I'm sorry . . ."

I place a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, trying my best to smile.

"This is it." Akechi steps forward, re-initiating the battle. "Time your attacks with mine," he tells the two of us, and strikes without hesitation. Together, we defeat the Shadow in no more than two turns.

By the end of it, Kasumi still pants from exertion, and neither Akechi nor I leave her side. If the defeated Shadow—or anything else—attacks her again, it will not survive.

"Such a fool! Rejecting our lord's mercy . . ." the defeated Shadow says, shaking its head. "In that case, witness it for yourself." Without further resistance, it vanishes, making room for us to proceed.

"Now what!?" calls Kasumi, and Akechi and I exchange a meaningful look. This time, neither of us rushes ahead. We follow Kasumi as she pulls herself together and strides down the hallway determinedly until she stands atop a large balcony, looking down at the track-and-field track from earlier. And from below, comes a voice . . .

"Oh, wow, the crowd is going wild!" who seems to be an announcer of some kind exclaims. "Their cheers are shaking the stadium to welcome a new heroine to the world of competitive gymnastics!"

"Huh?" Kasumi grips the railing tightly, staring down at . . . her own face. No, I think, looking closer. The girl below has her face, but her hair is a darker shade. Is it . . . ?

The three of us watch wordlessly as Cognitive . . . Sumire? gives an interview celebrating her victory. None of what she says strikes me as all that crucial—or painful—until she finally looks up at her sister. "Oh, there she is!" The girl looking like Kasumi waves. "Sumire!"

Kasumi jerks back, releasing the railing. I freeze in place, looking back and forth between the two sisters.

"Sumire! I did it!"

My gaze is fixed on . . . Kasumi? I can't look away. Even as she calls, "Stop!"

Even as her sister below cheers, "Let's make it come true, Sumire! Together!"

. . . Is this some kind of ruse? Is it manipulation? Is this cognitive girl mistaking Kasumi for her sister? But why, and . . . how?

Before I can properly lose myself in the terror that bubbles up within my gut, Kasumi yells, "Stop it!" I flinch away from the railing; hadn't Akechi caught me, I might have stumbled. "I . . ." Kasumi drops to her knees, gripping her head.

"Yoshizawa-san?" Akechi asks in a voice laced with an emotion I cannot name. "You're . . ."

Yet before he can finish his sentence, a new voice cuts in . . . A voice that freezes my blood in my veins. "I really hope this helped you understand," the man's voice says, and my jaw drops. My head spins with panic. Not because I am frightened of the voice, but because . . . I recognize it.

"A man's voice . . ."

I cling to Akechi's arm so hard that it might hurt. Yet if I cannot hold onto something, I might collapse.

"If you keep pushing on like this, you're going to find nothing but heartache."

Heartache . . . The word sinks like a rock into the pit of my stomach. Haven't I already chosen heartache for myself? Why is it still haunting me?

"Please, won't you stop fighting this and just return to the current reality?"

"Nothing but heartache, huh . . ." Kasumi mumbles, then drags herself to her feet. "I don't understand what you're saying, but I have no intention of leaving now!"

"We're in agreement there." The sheer disgust in Akechi's voice elicits another shiver. "We also refuse to do as you say. Now, why don't you drop the "big voice behind the curtain" act and face us directly?"

And to our all's surprise . . . the voice says moments later, ". . . As you wish."

I do not have it in myself to tell my companions that I need no face to recognize who this is. My mind reels with talks of research and pain, of happiness . . . The very happiness he advertises on all his walls. A part of me still hopes, of course. I try desperately not to let all the pieces fall into place, despite how well they fit—too well. Until the moment that we've made our way down and face him at last.

Turning toward us . . . Dr. Maruki drops my heart into the furthest pit of my stomach cavity. "It's been quite a while, hasn't it?" he says, and I freeze in place, taking in how different he looks. He is . . . "Glad to see you're all doing well," Dr. Maruki continues in his ever-pleasant tone. "Although I honestly hoped that you wouldn't come to this place at all." He regards me with a sorrowful look, and I stiffen up. "This . . . isn't how I was hoping we would meet again."

I stare at him, suddenly certain beyond doubt that he is the one behind everything. No matter how impossible it should be . . . He looks at me like someone who knows the pain I went through this morning to be able to stand here now.

Before I can address him directly, Kasumi beats me to it. And . . . only when Dr. Maruki expresses surprise about the term "Palace" do I realize that he is not a Shadow. He is . . . the Ruler, and yet he is the same Dr. Maruki with whom I spent so much time during counseling sessions. Whom I assisted with his paper. Who—

"Would we also be correct in believing that you're involved in the abnormalities outside the Palace as well?" Akechi asks, stepping forward in front of me. "For—"

"Yes, you would." Dr. Maruki cuts him off, and I hear the claws on Akechi's glove dig into the metal as he clenches his fist. Only then does Dr. Maruki turn to me. "But you . . . did you not like the reality I created for you?" he asks with so much sincere dismay that the pit in my stomach grows three times in size.

"You . . . created it?" Akechi exclaims.

"That's right," Dr. Maruki replies undauntedly. "I gained the power to alter reality . . . To make it whatever the people wish for. Did you not wish for it?" he asks me directly yet again and I grit my teeth until they hurt. Flashes of memories assault me—of wishes I had on Christmas. Of . . . I steal a glimpse at Akechi, swallowing.

"It's . . . not right."

> "I did wish for it, but . . ."

"That can't be . . ."

"There is no need to be apprehensive," says Dr. Maruki soothingly. "You do not have to fear embracing your own happiness. You deserve it."

"And yet she's here now." For one moment, I wonder if I hallucinated the tinge of . . . pride in Akechi's voice.

Dr. Maruki looks over at him. "This is your doing, no?"

"It is."

Kasumi, who has watched our exchange silently so far, clasps her hands over her mouth. "Senpai, you were—?"

"You . . . rather followed him back into a reality that was cruel and unfair than to remain happy?" Dr. Maruki exclaims, widened eyes on me. "But why? Didn't I give you all that you wished for? What . . . did I overlook?"

He sounds so genuinely let down that I am overcome by a wave of sympathy. I have always cherished Dr. Maruki as a close friend, a guide even. I never wanted—

"You overlooked me," Akechi cuts into my thoughts icily. "When you made her dreams come true, you overlooked that I am apparently a part of that. And I will die before I ever believe in your pretty, petty lies. Or leave her to rot there."

"You—" Dr. Maruki looks taken aback for a moment. ". . . Is that so?" he says wistfully. "Even if, should you accept my reality, you could be happy too? You too could have anything you want," Dr. Maruki offers. "Anything you—"

"I want," Akechi cuts him off, "for you to stop acting like you are entitled to make choices for us." He takes one more step forward. "I want for you to return reality to the way it should be. I do not want your "happiness"," he hisses. "I could never be happy with anything but the path of my own making. Do you even have the capacity to understand that?"

Kasumi and I stare at him, our mouths agape. Anything but the path of my own making . . . As his words slowly sink in and I process what he means—what he is rejecting there—I am suddenly hit by a swell of dizziness. He is . . .

You too could have anything you want.

He . . . My eyes are glued to his profile, framed by the sharp edges of his helmet. He's speaking with such certainty that it makes me wonder . . . Even he must feel the temptation, at least fleetingly. The offer of anything . . . Memories flash through my mind of all the things he revealed to want in Shido's engine room: his mother, his yearning for acceptance, for distinction. My eyes flicker over to Dr. Maruki. Anything. Nobody being offered that . . . wouldn't be tempted.

All my friends, and even I, fell victim to our yearnings. But here, I'm looking at a man who doesn't need anyone's help to resist. To rationally differentiate between the golden cage and merciless freedom . . . pretty lie and ugly truth. A man who made the decision to refuse well before I did. To go back to a reality where all that awaits him is . . .

Only in that moment does it hit me that, when Akechi asked Dr. Maruki to change reality back to the way it . . . should be, he meant back on Christmas. He's asking to . . . go back to prison? To loneliness? To . . . the way things were before he woke up beside me. To . . . a reality where he has nothing.

My head begins spinning, and I blow out a breath, unable to look away. But he . . . I could never be happy with anything but the path of my own making. I breathe in again. Without a moment's hesitation, he is trading the one true shot at happiness—a second chance?—that he'll ever receive in order to . . . retain his agency. His . . . ability to make choices. Mistakes?

For one moment, I am dumbfounded by the sheer strength of conviction he has to have in retaining his freedom. His truth. Is that really all it takes to keep him determined? The thought that whatever happiness is given would just be another form of manipulation?

Momentarily, I ponder that he's been manipulated and used—unfree—all his life. It must make it easier . . . But even so, there's hardly anyone with less to return to. Anyone . . . more deprived of happiness.

I wonder if that evens it out.

"I see," says Dr. Maruki after a long pause. "You did not wish for . . ." He cuts himself off, shaking his head. "But no matter your answer, or yours, Amamiya-san . . ." He regards me with a long, sorrowful look. "You care for the truth, yes? So, while you two might be able to live with the merciless reality, Yoshizawa-san suffers immense pain every time she taps into her forgotten past."

Kasumi pivots back to him. "My . . . past? Dr. Maruki . . . what do you mean? What's happened to me!? I can live with it too!" she exclaims defiantly. "I am not weak! Tell me my own truth!"

Dr. Maruki throws her one last, long look. ". . . Alright," he says finally, and my heart skips. "I had honestly hoped that all those warnings you were given would change your minds . . . But if it is your true desire, then I want you to recall who you really are. And I want you two to learn as well. Once you have, you'll need to choose between the two realities: the merciless one or the one I've created."

"What are you talking about?" interjects Akechi. "We have already chosen."

I nod, taking a step forward.

"None of us will fold."

> "We won't change our minds."

Dr. Maruki smiles somberly. "Consider it carefully," he says, once again ignoring what Akechi and I announced. Only for the sake of Kasumi, who seems glued to the screen above his head, do I keep my mouth shut. I . . . cannot say that I am not curious.

Yet when Dr. Maruki snaps his fingers and plays for us the whole truth of . . . Sumire Yoshizawa, I am frozen where I stand. I do not say a word, all throughout the memory, the revelation of what happened to Kasumi last spring, and the truth of how . . . I was the only one who got this wrong.

I recall that Shujin Academy pocketbook I found when we first met . . . with the name "Kasumi Yoshizawa" written inside.

"It appears you were clueless." Akechi gives me an unbelieving look. "But she was Sumire Yoshizawa from the start. However, when we watched that other video, she gave her name as Kasumi Yoshizawa. Considering such an odd claim, I'd actually suspected for a moment that she was the Palace Ruler . . ."

Is that possible, even though she has a Persona? I would ask, but I cannot reply. I cannot even close my gaping mouth. Part of me feels like dropping to my knees besides Sumire and . . . And what? What then? I almost sob. What . . . do we even do now?

Dazed, I listen to Sumire explain the full extent of what Dr. Maruki did to her cognition after she started to receive counseling from him. "If Kasumi is gone and can't make her dream come true . . . Then I want to become Kasumi, so I can do it for her!"

A shiver runs down my spine upon her desperate plea.

"So that's why you meddled with her cognition? For her own wishes?" Akechi snaps at Dr. Maruki.

"That's right," he replies in an entirely composed tone. "Limited as it was, I already had the power at the time to actualize her wish. Put yourselves in her shoes for a moment . . ."

Yet Akechi cuts him off. "No amount of pain, guilt, or any situation imaginable, justifies erasing someone's mistakes. All that you have done is given her an easy way out that she has not earned and does not deserve."

I stare at him, realizing that he . . . is right. As harsh as it sounds, no one deserves to just have their mistakes erased. Consequences exist to teach us lessons . . . Even if it hurts sometimes, there would be no growth in a world without consequences. And everyone deserves the chance to heal, to grow.

I steal another glimpse at Akechi; is he also talking about himself? Is that part of why he doesn't want his mistakes erased, even if the consequences of his own actions are that grave? He must know better than anyone here the feelings of shame and guilt that Dr. Maruki tried to save Sumire from. He has already chosen to grow from them, to heal? But Sumire . . .

"You might not share the desire to erase your mistakes," Dr. Maruki replies. "Yet not everyone is like you. If Sumire-san can live a healthy, positive life by becoming Kasumi-san . . . Then I believe that reality is what would make her happy."

"That is not a solution," Akechi cuts him off. "It is only a poor attempt at rationalization. And I've had enough now."

If anyone in the room has the right to say this, it's him, I think. Him, who had the strength to stop rationalizing all on his own. Who wouldn't erase his mistakes, no matter the cost. Whose will is stronger than mine. Stronger than . . . anyone's here.

"All you really did was use her to try and make everyone acknowledge the validity of your research," Akechi brings up a point that I hadn't even considered.

". . . So, you will not be moved," says Dr. Maruki, lowering his head. "That's quite unfortunate. Of course, I wanted society to acknowledge cognitive psience through my research . . . But that's because my goal is to save everyone in the world like Yoshizawa-san by ending all suffering!"

I whip around to him, my mouth falling open. But isn't that exactly what I thought earlier would also erase growth? He can't—

"My work will convert the wishes of the people into reality," Dr. Maruki continues. "Even as we speak, my research is coming to fruition . . . No one will ever have to suffer again under the yoke of an unfair world. This . . . Palace, you called it? It's a place where its Ruler's desires take physical form, yes?"

"So, that's your desire?" asks Akechi incredulously.

"To utilize my research to save humanity." Dr. Maruki nods.

". . . What total nonsense," Akechi mumbles under his breath.

"I guess that's what it would sound like to you," Dr. Maruki replies. "You, whose wish . . . is to face the consequences of your actions. You do not wish for happiness," Dr. Maruki says with a shake of his head, then his eyes flicker over to me. "But you might change your mind once you have actually experienced happiness for yourself."

You, whose wish is to face the consequences of your actions. I listen up. Is that what he wishes for? I look over at him, and suddenly it hits me that he might have nothing else in the real reality . . . except for his consequences. His atonement.

Is . . . that what he is giving "anything" up for? Is that . . . all he wants?

"Still, no matter what you say, I'm entirely serious about changing our imperfect reality," Dr. Maruki continues. "Just as Sumire-san was saved by becoming Kasumi, I'll save every other person in the world currently suffering. In fact, it is my responsibility to do so . . . You can see how this world bestows the duty upon me."

"No one bestows anything," Akechi snaps. "Do you not understand that a Palace is not merely a desire but a distorted one? You're delusional."

He certainly is, I think, looking back and forth between the two of them, then over at the kneeling Sumire. This is . . . wrong. I feel it with every fiber of my being. In fact, I feel something oddly similar to what I felt in the Prison of Regression. Didn't Yaldabaoth try to rewrite cognitions for what he claimed to be "mankind's wish to not be burdened with choice" as well?

I suppress all the shame from falling for Dr. Maruki's wish fulfillment this morning and take a step closer.

> "That's not salvation . . ."

"What happens to the old reality?"

"The cruelties of history will vanish, and everyone will live their lives just as they've always dreamed them to be," Dr. Maruki says. "You've had a taste of it yourself."

I flinch.

"Didn't it feel like salvation?" Dr. Maruki urges. "I know you feel like you shouldn't accept my reality because that is what's expected of you. Amamiya-san, you're always so mindful of the role you have to play for others. But please remember that you and Akechi-kun aren't excluded from the people that I wish to save." Dr. Maruki spreads his arms, looking directly at me. "In my reality, you wouldn't have to be the heroine everyone expects you to be. You wouldn't have to sacrifice or fear disappointing anyone. No one would be left out. Tell me honestly, wouldn't you want everyone to be made just as happy as you were this morning?"

My mouth falls open, and no matter how much I try, I fail to swallow the lump that forms in my throat. That was what I wanted, it burns in the back of my mind. What I . . . wished for, apart from being with Akechi. To not have to sacrifice. To . . . go back home and celebrate with my friends . . . The chance to be normal. But I . . .

"If there were no expectations to disappoint, and if everyone was taken care of, just like you, would you still not accept my reality—for your own happiness?"

"You assume that she will still buy into your brainwashing after all this?" Akechi replies in my stead. "That we'll just live in the palm of your hand? You talk of happiness, yet what you're offering sounds absolutely revolting."

Any and every last remnant of longing for the carefreeness of my own wish fulfillment I shove down, locking it away. Then I nod.

> "Akechi is right."

"I'll find my own happiness."

"I still don't want it."

Dr. Maruki sighs. ". . . Alright, so those are your answers. No deal so far, huh?" He looks back and forth between the two of us, then his eyes land on Sumire. "Well, then, Yoshizawa-san . . . Allow me to ask you again: Which reality is it that you wish to inhabit?"

For the first time in an eternity, Sumire actually raises her head. "Huh?"

"If you so desire, you can return to your life as Sumire," Dr. Maruki offers. "But if you'd rather continue your life as Kasumi, I can grant that wish for you as well."

My blood freezes in my veins as I have to watch Sumire struggle. "Dr. Maruki, I . . ."

"Don't be manipulated!"

> "Believe in yourself!"

I call out to her, but to my horror, she . . . shakes her head. "It's impossible . . ." She lifts herself to her feet, hands still raised to shield her face. "I'm sorry . . . Amamiya-senpai . . . Akechi-senpai . . . You're both so much stronger than I am." She sobs. "I . . . I can't go back to being her . . . I can't be the one who led her sister to her death!" she calls, her voice breaking.

"Please don't judge her," mumbles Dr. Maruki. "This is just evidence of how painful her life is."

Akechi scoffs and I hear him clench his fist. Yet all his aggression is directed toward Dr. Maruki; next to Sumire, he stands almost protectively.

"Your wishes clash with the reality I manifested, so you sensed doubts in it," Dr. Maruki says to Akechi. "And you think that you have to resist and sacrifice your own happiness to fulfill the expectations of others," he says to me. "That's what brought you here."

I grit my teeth; fulfilling expectations is not why I resist him! Yet before I can open my mouth, a light flares above our heads, blinding me. I stagger a step back, and when my eyes have adjusted, I watch in horror as one of Dr. Maruki's Shadows comes up beside him, hand raised. Before my unbelieving eyes, its arm morphs into a winding tentacle, shooting forward, toward . . .

I do not think—I leap in front of Sumire, dagger raised, and slice blindly in the direction of the attack. Sumire cries out, and my dagger makes contact with something . . . A terrible wet sound assaults my ears, then something strikes my cheek.

I scream, losing grip of the dagger and dropping to all fours. Sumire . . . But when my eyes find her, it is just in time to watch her land on her backside, pushed out of the way by . . . Akechi stands above us, slicing the tentacle in half, then a second one.

"Move!" he screams.

For one second, I sit and . . . stare. Then I scramble to my feet, fishing for my dagger. Yet two more Shadows have already spawned tentacles, and before I can reach Akechi, one blow lands squarely on the back of his head. He is catapulted forward toward Dr. Maruki, landing at his feet and . . . not moving. I scream.

From the corner of my eye, I watch another tentacle wrap around Sumire, dragging her toward Dr. Maruki. My mouth drops open as I fall forward, the dagger slipping through my fingers. I cannot do anything . . . I cannot . . .

Dr. Maruki catches an unconscious Sumire in his arms, yet my eyes are fixed only on Akechi. He lies there, unmoving, his jagged blade a few feet away.

"No . . ."

> "Don't hurt them . . ."

"Don't worry." Dr. Maruki gives me a look of pity. "Neither of them is harmed." He looks at Sumire in his arms, then toward Akechi at his feet. Something about the way he looks at them both makes my stomach contort into a tight knot.

"Amamiya-san . . ." He raises his gaze toward me, giving me a wistful smile. "I know that you will not accept my reality as long as you fear disappointing those you care about." He gives Akechi another long look. "Neither of them can hear you." I feel a shiver of disgust at the soothing tone of his voice. "So, tell me honestly, do you really reject the reality that Yoshizawa-san desires—where she lives as Kasumi? The reality that you desired—where you and Akechi-kun can be together. That reality you still desire."

I swallow hard. For a few, awful seconds, we stare at each other in silence, and I make myself aware with absolute certainty that there's no use keeping secrets from Dr. Maruki. He knows what I desire and also that I won't give into it for as long as I have Akechi to fall back on.

I . . . In all my time speaking to Dr. Maruki, I haven't yet felt such a strong urge to scream at the top of my lungs.

> ". . . It's not reality."

". . . It would still be wrong."

"But it could be," says Dr. Maruki, and I bite down on my tongue so as not to scream. "You and I both know what you wished for. What you still wish for." He looks down at Akechi again, who still hasn't stirred. "To be honest, I still cannot fathom why you would have let him convince you, considering the strength of your feelings."

I swallow hard. Against my better judgment, I find myself pondering that question too. Why did I choose to follow him outside? I could have . . . anything that I ever wanted. Not only him, but also to have him as one of us. I swallow again, and again, only then realizing that I'm swallowing tears. Futaba could have her mom back, and Haru her dad. We could be . . . We could all be a family.

Anything.

That word resonates within me, driving tears into my eyes.

Anything I ever wanted.

I . . . Do not let yourself be manipulated, a voice that resembles Akechi's whispers in my ear, and I blow out a breath. It's not real.

Somehow, those three words that drove me to despair this morning now give me enough strength to pull myself to my feet. I look at Maruki, my heart suddenly hammering, because the answer to his question comes to me. I know that I wished for it, but . . .

> "Because it wasn't what he wished for."

"Akechi didn't wish for that."

Dr. Maruki gives me a look of infinite sympathy. "It is true that to take down Shido and atone for his crimes was the desire that Akechi-kun held most dear," he says after a pause, and my heart sinks.

I shouldn't be so disappointed—he already confirmed it several times. And it was the first thing Akechi did after his return. It was what he wanted more than anything. But . . .

"In that moment, anyway." My head flies up to Dr. Maruki, who now hands Sumire to one of his lackeys and spreads his arms. "But don't you see—now, there are no crimes to atone for anymore. Shido is done for. And you . . ." He gives me a smile, and I fight back a shiver . . . and yet another scream. Akechi didn't want his crimes to just be erased! He wanted . . . to atone. I bite my lip. He would rather go back to the shambles of his life in the real reality than have his crimes and his . . . choices erased.

"Akechi-kun did not reciprocate your most powerful wish. But he wasn't opposed to it either," Dr. Maruki says suddenly, and I freeze. "And it doesn't have to stay just that. In my reality, the two of you could be anything you wanted as well."

My mouth opens and closes. I stare at him wide-eyed, my mind yet again conjuring up images of this morning. The . . . way it was. Comfortable. Stable . . . Not real.

"That would be wrong."

"I'd be forcing him."

> "I don't want it that way."

Dr. Maruki's face falls. "I know you hope that you can convince him to let you in on your own, but he will never let himself be with you in reality." He takes a step forward, standing over Akechi, who finally stirs. I step forward, but no matter how much my heart screams, I cannot bring myself to draw closer.

"It's not because he doesn't reciprocate your feelings," Dr. Maruki says, and I clench my fists. "But . . . for Akechi-kun, his life has been nothing but hardships, nothing but pain. It has conditioned him to believe that if he lets you—or anyone—close, he will hurt you as well."

I flinch back, staring at Akechi, who stirs and groans, finally pulling himself to all fours. "What do you think you're trying?" he hisses at Dr. Maruki, who does not retreat one step.

"Do you not want him to finally release this fear?" Dr. Maruki urges. "Only in my reality could he be certain that no pain would ever touch you—not because of him or otherwise."

"You—!"

Dr. Maruki cuts Akechi off, looking only at me. "Do you not want to grant him this security? The chance to be with you without fear? With no pain or difficulties between you?"

My mouth opens and does not close again. I am assaulted by images of what we had for a fleeting moment, and even though I know it wasn't real, even though I know it would be wrong . . . I take one step closer—whether toward Akechi or Dr. Maruki, I can't tell.

"Amamiya, don't be a fool!" hisses Akechi, pulling himself to his feet, and I halt in my tracks. "You promised me you wanted reality." He spits the words out, conveying with every syllable that he would despise me if I ever went back on that promise.

"Reality brings with itself pain," Dr. Maruki says to Akechi this time. "Do you not wish to save her from any further pain you might inflict on her?"

Before Akechi can move, I have him by the sleeve.

> "I will not go back on my promise."

"I won't be manipulated."

Against my best hopes, I cannot keep the pained undertone out of my voice entirely.

Akechi throws me a glance from the corner of his eye, then shakes my hands off and takes one step forward, standing between Dr. Maruki and me.

"It saddens me when you speak that way," says Dr. Maruki. "I honestly do want to do this for yourselves as well. I want to come to terms with you. We should talk. Think about it: you both have dreams, no? I have the power to—"

"Enough!" yells Akechi, stepping forward again and raising a finger to point at Dr. Maruki. "You have her answer. And I'm not going to let you use me to hurt her. Either you fight us fairly, or you leave us be."

For one moment, Dr. Maruki is actually stunned. The two of us stare at Akechi, standing there with his finger still raised, trembling with suppressed fury. I cannot look away. I am . . . I'm not going to let you use me to hurt her. I search my mind for anything else, and despite everything, despite how he practically spit the words out, drenched in disgust . . . I feel my face flush. This might be the most genuine proof of care that he ever voiced toward me.

Despite the heat in my face and the hammering of my heart, I suddenly feel a surge of anger at Dr. Maruki myself. There is no need to make this about us. The two of us . . . Akechi has suffered enough.

I step forward until I can place a hand on the cold material of his shoulder piece.

"Please leave us out of this."

> "What he said."

Akechi's arm jets out as if to shield me. Then he retracts it again, but he does not retreat from my touch. "Hear that?" he calls to Dr. Maruki. "If you do not comply, we'll just have to resort to force."

There is a pause. "Violence . . . is not my thing," Dr. Maruki says eventually, stepping back and making way for one of his Shadows to take the spotlight.

The Shadow staggers into the light, twisting and disfiguring as it transforms into a tentacled abomination straight out of a Lovecraftian horror tale. "I agree, though. It seems we're out of options here," says Dr. Maruki, watching the Shadow monster wistfully.

"So you're leaving us to your lackey?" sneers Akechi. "What hypocrisy."

The warped abyss screeches, unleashing upon the track field a whirlwind strong enough to knock down a spotlight. Akechi and I are compelled to retreat, and I tighten my hand on his shoulder, breathing heavily.

"Time to fight. Are you ready?" Akechi asks, and I nod, finally releasing him to take a stand. "Keep up. And don't fret. That thing's no match for either of us if we were to go against it alone."

His uncharacteristically uplifting words and the smirk I catch beneath his mask from the corner of my eye invigorate me more than anything else could have as we take to the battle.

"Stubborn imbeciles, rejecting our lord . . ." the warped abyss snarls.

Yet Akechi merely points his blade at it, snapping back. ". . . Disgusting. We're not here to listen to your bullshit."

It replies with Magarudyne, knocking out a larger portion of our health than I would have liked, immediately following up with Evil Touch. But it can't touch us . . . I think as the two of us dodge in unison. Only then, when it is finally our turn, does it hit me—Akechi's right. The two of us are fighting together—when we do that, nothing could even think to stand in our way.

Despite my confidence, the fight goes . . . worse than it could have. It is slightly jarring to only be by ourselves; even though Akechi and I are both powerful, this warped abyss is great at inflicting fear, and it can concentrate. We fall into a rhythm between the two of us fairly quickly—Akechi deals the damage while I keep us healed up. And still, it takes a while to chip away at its health to the point where it staggers back.

"No . . ." It wails when Akechi's final Laevateinn takes out the last remains of its health. Then, to our surprise, it adds, "Such pathetic attempts won't be enough."

Akechi and I exchange a confused look, then my heart drops into my stomach cavity as we watch the warped abyss . . . Diarahan itself back to full health.

"Tsk . . . This freak just won't go down," Akechi hisses, and I grit my teeth against the Abyssal Eye it unleashes on us then. Only when I register that neither of us has more than a few health points left do I feel proper panic for the first time.

Akechi pants heavily, leaning on his blade that he's rammed into the ground for support. "We're about to lose a lot of . . ."

Yet before he can even finish, the warped abyss cuts him off. "Accept his mercy," it sneers. "Give yourself over to him."

Akechi's eyes dart back and forth between the warped abyss and me, then he unexpectedly pulls himself up. "Would you quit running your mouth already?" he shouts toward our enemy. "Joker—I'm going to shut that thing up. Give me a hand—move!"

For one moment, I am entirely frozen in my spot before I comprehend what he means. What he intends to do by extending his hand to me the way he does then. One heartbeat of silence passes between us, during which a million thoughts assault my mind—memories of another palace, of fantasies about something such as this. We haven't . . . practiced anything, I think. I haven't . . .

Then I suddenly hear his words in my ear—something he said to me in another lifetime. The last time I was hesitant to improvise a . . . dance with him: Just follow my lead . . . You'll be surprised at how much you can do, even without practice. Don't let it be the fear of failure that holds you back from trying new things. You'll never know unless you give it a try, yeah?

In the end, I hesitate only for a heartbeat . . . then I grasp his hand.

The next thing I know, I am blinded by darkness. "No more games!" yells Akechi and takes a stand, there on the storm-ridden rooftop he spawned. Red tendrils snake out beneath his feet, and before I can surmise what they are—and that I've seen them before—they envelop him wholly. My jaw drops, yet before I can move, he vaults forward and catches me in his arms, causing my breath to lodge in my throat. Only as we fly through the air together do I see that he is aiming for the warped abyss ahead and . . . process what he means to do split seconds before he executes it.

I whip the grappling hook out just in time as he releases me, aiming it at the warped abyss the way that Sumire taught me. The hook flings the Shadow toward me, and I slash, feeling the very fabric of the unreality that surrounds us shudder beneath the tip of my blade.

Before it can even break with a scream, Akechi follows up my strike. I whip out of the way just in time to watch him tear his blade through the delicate fabrics of the Shadow's being until there remains nothing but shreds . . . and red.

"Oh, I feel so alive!"

So do I, I think, drawing in a deep breath and . . . smiling. I don't remember the last time I felt . . .

Ahead of me, Akechi rams his blade into the ground and pivots . . . and I momentarily forget to release my breath as he tips forward, offering me a hand. For the fracture of a second, he looks at me like he is still that too-good-to-be-real fairytale prince he was when he kissed my hand at that TV station. Like he would do it again here and now.

I lift my hand and place it in his. Before I can catch another breath, he gives me a twirl, and then I am in his arms. My lips part, and my hand clutches the hard edge of his helmet, realizing that my feet are no longer touching the ground.

Next to my ear, Akechi whispers, "Your shot." Only then do I comprehend that I am looking over his shoulder at the warped abyss in our backs.

I tip my head back and fire away . . . taking the remains of it out with a single bullet.

"What a waste of my time . . ." I barely make out the subdued words against the violent pounding of my heart. Yet at the same time, I catch a glimpse of his playful smirk as Akechi still hasn't released me . . . and blow out the breath I've been holding before our surroundings fade back to normal.

"Heh." Akechi puts me back on my feet, and I find it difficult not to stagger. Did that really just . . . "Not bad for an improvised technique," he says with a self-satisfied smirk, and only then does a true smile break on my face too. That was a little more than "not bad", I think—it was everything that I ever wanted and then some. I keep my eyes on him and . . . lament the fact that we can't go again.

"Shall we continue this?" Akechi asks Dr. Maruki as he emerges behind his defeated Shadow. My stomach tightens when I catch my bearings and realize that Sumire is no longer in sight. "I'm fairly certain that any further "negotiating" is pointless," Akechi says to me, and I can't help but agree.

Dr. Maruki looks back and forth between the two of us, then sighs. "That seems to be the case, unfortunately," he says. "But first, I have an idea. Rather than explain it with words, I'd like you to actually see this new reality with your own eyes. Not your personal one," he says to me. "But the one I generate for everyone. Maybe, if you cannot be swayed by your own wishes, you will be by the happiness of those around you. Like that of your friends, Amamiya-san."

I tense up, flashing back to Futaba's carefree smile. My friends . . . But they're safe, at least. I look around again, yet I still do not spot Sumire anywhere.

"What about Sumire?"

> "Let us help Sumire."

"That, I cannot do," Dr. Maruki replies. "Unlike the two of you, she has chosen to live in my reality—the reality where she is Kasumi. You can do nothing for her with matters as they currently are. I already told you that I won't harm her. And I'll swear by it," he insists. "Don't worry about her. Instead, go look at the reality I've created for you all." Dr. Maruki waves his hand. "Once you've lived it—lived happily—I just know that you'll understand which future is best."

"As if," Akechi cuts in. "You think we'll just obey your orders?"

"I apologize," Dr. Maruki replies. "But you are going through with this—even if it is by force. Just remember that my reality was created for all your sakes. Yours too."

Akechi and I both flinch back when a bright white light blinds us. When it dims again, Dr. Maruki has already vanished. Akechi blows out an exasperated breath when his disembodied voice meets our ears: "We'll meet again one week from today: January 9th. I genuinely pray that you'll change your mind by then."

"Tsk . . . He got away." Akechi straightens his back and throws me an unreadable look. "We shouldn't chase him too far . . . He is already too powerful to face, even for us. What say we head back for now?"

Upon the announcement, I feel a pang. If we head back, that means it's all over . . . Will he leave now? The thought makes my insides stir with subdued panic. Nonetheless, I nod.

As Akechi activates the Nav and we fade out of the Metaverse, I force myself to shove the rising fear down. Immediately, as we find ourselves back in front of the stadium, Akechi takes one step away from me, and I flinch. My head spins, and I feel like I might collapse on the spot. It's barely dinner time, and I am already overwhelmingly fatigued, mentally and physically.

Well . . . I steal a glimpse at Akechi, who glares at his phone before stashing it away and staring right back in a way that makes my knees weak all the same. Today, I fought against the temptation of my innermost dreams, received a rejection from the man I love, explored a palace, and played every one of his games . . . And then I faced a man I once admired who kidnapped one of my friends and is now warping the very fabric of reality for the sake of fulfilling our wishes. Who could give me anything I could ever want.

I stuff my hands into my pockets, gathering the last of my energy to face Akechi, who looks at me not an ounce more open than before. And . . . There's no use crying about something that isn't real. About it all, I'm not even allowed to cry.