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person4Title: The Truth You Seek
Fandom: Persona 4
Character: The final boss
Notes: For June fic-a-day. As I'm sure you can guess from the character, this ficlet holds major spoilers for the game, although they're vaguely worded.
The self-styled savior lost her interest most quickly. He showed her nothing new of humanity or its desires, only reaffirmed what she already knew about how gleefully they could fling themselves into the depths of self-delusion. He never once sought to find out the truth of what he was doing, never so much as peeked through a TV set to see for himself whether he was really sending those he 'saved' to the sanctuary he'd imagined. All of the potential she'd unlocked within him lie fallow and went to waste until his heart could draw nothing but shadows.
She turned her eyes from him in disgust.
The murderer held her attention more closely. His motives were shallow and perverse, his actions certainly despicable, but the farce he put on to hide his true self was amusing enough at times. More importantly, he was the only one of the three who was able to unlock the desires of humanity at large for her, in their horror at what he'd done. She saw their fear, and their desire to forget, to all the ugliness of the world.
To find peace in the blinding fog.
But it was the hero--last and least of the unknowing participants in her little experiment, the one who she'd honestly believed might just be drawn into the monotony of small town life without ever even discovering the power she'd given him--whom she never let out of her sight for long. His methods and manner were strange to her at every turn. He was the only one to fling himself willingly into the TV without being driven to it, not a trace of fear or hesitation drowning out his curiosity. The only one to find others who would willingly follow him into the world of the shadows and had faith that he would lead them safely out again.
He was the only one that she chose to speak with from time to time, beyond their first meeting.
He did little to show her to the heart of humankind at large, but she soon saw that she shouldn't expect that for him. It wasn't his way to make large splashes and stir up the world. He was simply there to quietly offer help when it was needed, anything from finding trinkets to saving lives. His dealings with others were personal, always, from the youngest child to the oldest grandfather, and in the end it was always the mind of the individual which he laid bare for her, not the will of the masses. And somehow those minds, once touched by him, seemed to struggle against the fog in a way no other humans did.
Most strangely of all, he flung himself wholeheartedly into seeking the truth, going against all she knew about mankind. A teenaged boy, a child who shouldn't have much interest in anything except keeping up his grades and finding a date, shunned every easy answer, every comfortable lie that every human should gladly grasp at. Even when he was so overwhelmed by rage that he should be happy to have an obvious scapegoat, even when he was so full of sorrow that it should drown out all other concerns.
Even now, when to his eyes it should seem like his search had been over for months--every loose end that he knew of neatly tied up, every villain justly punished--still he was drawn to find the truth behind that truth. She could feel how desperately he craved it, how frantically he spent his last few hours in Inaba tugging on year other threads of memory, trying to make sure that there was nothing else he needed to learn. And slowly, slowly, she felt his mind beginning to turn towards her.
The rain was coming in. Perhaps she'd go out to him one last time, and let him find his answers.
Fandom: Persona 4
Character: The final boss
Notes: For June fic-a-day. As I'm sure you can guess from the character, this ficlet holds major spoilers for the game, although they're vaguely worded.
The self-styled savior lost her interest most quickly. He showed her nothing new of humanity or its desires, only reaffirmed what she already knew about how gleefully they could fling themselves into the depths of self-delusion. He never once sought to find out the truth of what he was doing, never so much as peeked through a TV set to see for himself whether he was really sending those he 'saved' to the sanctuary he'd imagined. All of the potential she'd unlocked within him lie fallow and went to waste until his heart could draw nothing but shadows.
She turned her eyes from him in disgust.
The murderer held her attention more closely. His motives were shallow and perverse, his actions certainly despicable, but the farce he put on to hide his true self was amusing enough at times. More importantly, he was the only one of the three who was able to unlock the desires of humanity at large for her, in their horror at what he'd done. She saw their fear, and their desire to forget, to all the ugliness of the world.
To find peace in the blinding fog.
But it was the hero--last and least of the unknowing participants in her little experiment, the one who she'd honestly believed might just be drawn into the monotony of small town life without ever even discovering the power she'd given him--whom she never let out of her sight for long. His methods and manner were strange to her at every turn. He was the only one to fling himself willingly into the TV without being driven to it, not a trace of fear or hesitation drowning out his curiosity. The only one to find others who would willingly follow him into the world of the shadows and had faith that he would lead them safely out again.
He was the only one that she chose to speak with from time to time, beyond their first meeting.
He did little to show her to the heart of humankind at large, but she soon saw that she shouldn't expect that for him. It wasn't his way to make large splashes and stir up the world. He was simply there to quietly offer help when it was needed, anything from finding trinkets to saving lives. His dealings with others were personal, always, from the youngest child to the oldest grandfather, and in the end it was always the mind of the individual which he laid bare for her, not the will of the masses. And somehow those minds, once touched by him, seemed to struggle against the fog in a way no other humans did.
Most strangely of all, he flung himself wholeheartedly into seeking the truth, going against all she knew about mankind. A teenaged boy, a child who shouldn't have much interest in anything except keeping up his grades and finding a date, shunned every easy answer, every comfortable lie that every human should gladly grasp at. Even when he was so overwhelmed by rage that he should be happy to have an obvious scapegoat, even when he was so full of sorrow that it should drown out all other concerns.
Even now, when to his eyes it should seem like his search had been over for months--every loose end that he knew of neatly tied up, every villain justly punished--still he was drawn to find the truth behind that truth. She could feel how desperately he craved it, how frantically he spent his last few hours in Inaba tugging on year other threads of memory, trying to make sure that there was nothing else he needed to learn. And slowly, slowly, she felt his mind beginning to turn towards her.
The rain was coming in. Perhaps she'd go out to him one last time, and let him find his answers.