April 21st, 2012, Fujikawaguchiko, Late Afternoon.
The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the picturesque town of Fujikawaguchiko, painting the serene surface of Lake Kawaguchi in hues of orange and fire.
Using the lengthening shadows to her advantage, a young woman with sleek black hair and captivating golden eyes moved with a predator's grace through the quiet streets.
Her steps, guided by advanced Senjutsu techniques, made no sound on the pavement, and her presence was carefully concealed from both mundane and supernatural senses.
This was Kuroka, a former priestess turned fugitive, and currently, a reluctant agent of the Khaos Brigade.
"Why did Ophis choose me to meet with the dark elf, nyaah?" she whined softly to herself, her voice a hushed whisper as she peered from behind a traditional ryokan toward the sprawling, colorful complex of Fuji-Q Highland on the lake's shore.
The assignment felt beneath her, a simple courier duty that wasted her considerable talents.
"Let's become invisible and get this over with," she muttered, weaving a more potent veil of invisibility around herself before stepping out into the open and walking casually toward the park's entrance.
Her nonchalant stride froze mid-step, however, the moment she cleared the building's cover. Her golden eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. There, exiting the main gates of the amusement park, was a sight that pierced straight through her carefully constructed defenses.
"S-Shirone?" she whispered, the name leaving her lips like a prayer and a curse combined.
She was looking at her little sister, Koneko, walking beside a blue-haired boy she didn't recognize. Where was the Gremory heiress? Where was the rest of the peerage? A torrent of questions flooded Kuroka's mind, causing her body to lock in place, rooted to the spot by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
'What is she doing here? Who is he? Where is the Gremory?' The questions haunted her, each one a sharp needle of anxiety and longing.
For a moment, a wild, desperate hope flared within her. She could reveal herself. She could take Shirone away from here, bring her to the relative safety and community she had found with Vali's team. But the hope was instantly crushed by cold, hard reality. Shirone—Koneko—hated her.
The memory of her sister's betrayed, accusing eyes was a wound that had never healed. It was too soon. It might always be too soon.
'I'm invisible. She can't see me,' Kuroka thought, forcing herself to take a deep, shuddering breath to calm her racing heart. She had to focus. She had a mission. But the sight of her sister, so close yet utterly unreachable, was a physical ache in her chest.
As Makoto and Koneko walked away from the park, the young rook suddenly stopped. Her body went rigid, and her small hand clenched tightly into the fabric of Makoto's shirt.
"Koneko? Is everything alright?" the boy asked, turning to look at her.
Koneko didn't answer immediately. Her head turned, her crimson eyes scanning their surroundings with a hunter's intensity. Nothing seemed outwardly wrong, yet every instinct screamed at her that something was amiss.
Then, for just a fleeting second, she caught it—a scent on the breeze, a familiar, haunting life force that she had tried so hard to forget. It was the scent of her sister.
Memories, long suppressed, came flooding back with the force of a tidal wave: happy days playing together, followed by the crushing betrayal, the pain, the loss. Her breath hitched, becoming heavy and discontinuous. A cold sweat broke out on her skin.
"I don't know..." she finally answered, her voice thin and strained with anxiety.
Makoto looked down at her, his gray eyes filling with concern. He took her hand, and his touch was surprisingly grounding. 'She's shaking,' he noticed.
"Koneko, what are you feeling?" he asked, his voice low and steady as he tried to meet her gaze.
'She's having a panic attack, hee-ho!' Jack Frost's alert was immediate and urgent within Makoto's mind.
"Koneko, breathe. Don't worry, I'm here," Makoto said slowly, his grip on her small, trembling hands firm and reassuring.
"I don't know..." the girl repeated, her vision swimming as she looked up at him, her expression one of pure, unadulterated fear.
She focused on his face, on the calm, unwavering presence he projected. Slowly, under his guidance, her ragged breaths began to even out. The violent shaking in her limbs subsided into a slight tremble, and then faded altogether. After a few more seconds, the storm within her passed.
"Are you feeling better?" Makoto asked, his tone gentle.
Koneko slowly nodded her head, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. "Thanks, Senpai."
"No problem," he replied. "It's my pleasure."
Meanwhile, from her concealed position, Kuroka had watched the entire scene unfold. Tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, tracing silent paths down her cheeks. Seeing Koneko in such a state, triggered by nothing more than the faintest sensation of her presence, was a devastating blow.
'She must have sensed my Ki... what a terrible sister I am, nyaah,' she thought, her heart clenching with a potent mix of sadness and guilt. 'My little sister has a panic attack just from feeling my life force for a few seconds, nyaah.'
Her gaze then shifted to the blue-haired boy who had so calmly and effectively grounded her sister. A bittersweet smile touched her lips.
'At least you have someone there for you, Shirone. I'm glad.' The thought was genuine, a small, bright spot in the darkness of her remorse.
'Universe, I believe I have identified the source of the Hanged's distress,' Izanagi-no-Okami's majestic voice intoned in Makoto's mind.
'Tell me,' Makoto responded mentally.
'Someone is watching us. Her attention was focused particularly on the young girl,' the Country Maker explained.
'I didn't see anyone, Izanagi,' Apollo interjected.
'That is because she was concealed by a powerful art of invisibility. But nothing can deceive my sight. She is over there, behind the vending machine near the maple tree. I suggest we leave her for now; she did not radiate hostile intentions,' the god stated with finality.
'How can you be so sure, hee-ho?' Jack Frost asked, his voice tight with anger at the thought of anyone causing Koneko such pain.
'As I said, nothing can deceive me,' Izanagi-no-Okami repeated, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
Guided by the World Persona's perception, Makoto's gaze swept over to the spot Izanagi had indicated. To anyone else, it was empty. But Makoto, his vision augmented by the supreme god's power, saw through the veil.
His eyes met Kuroka's golden ones across the distance. He held her gaze for a moment, his expression completely neutral, neither accusatory nor welcoming, before he looked away.
'He's seeing me? That's impossible! Not even ultimate-class beings can see through my Senjutsu!' Kuroka internally screamed, a fresh wave of shock jolting through her. Had he really looked right at her? It must have been a coincidence, his gaze just happening to drift in her direction.
"Let's go back, okay?" Makoto asked Koneko, who nodded in agreement.
Kuroka watched as the two figures began to walk away, hand in hand, back toward the Gremory manor.
'I was just being paranoid, I guess, nyaah,' she thought, trying to convince herself as she turned and forced her feet to carry her toward the amusement park where her duty awaited.
'We will search for her after we are back at the mansion,' Makoto communicated to his Personas.
'What is it you wish to do, Makoto?' Messiah asked, his voice calm and probing.
'I just want to understand the bond between Koneko and that woman,' he replied. 'I will use The Wanderer later.'
April 21st, 2012, Fuji-Q's Director Office, Late Afternoon.
Back in the subdued elegance of the director's office, the atmosphere was thick with political tension and the faint, lingering scent of incense. Daugouc Emberseeker cleared his throat, interrupting the three yokai leaders who were deeply embroiled in their negotiations.
"I must ask your pardon, but I have park businesses to attend to," the dark elf stated, his voice a polite but firm rumble.
"That's our bad... we are definitely taking too long by focusing on measly details," Bushin said, an annoyed flick of his tail betraying his impatience as he glanced at Sojobo.
"We must be certain there are no matters left unresolved that could create significant problems for us in the future," Sojobo replied, his demeanor as calm and undisturbed as a mountain peak, utterly unruffled by the bakeneko's comment.
Daugouc gave a respectful nod to the assembled yokais and exited his office, closing the heavy door softly behind him. The moment he was gone, Bushin turned his sharp gaze back to the others.
"There is still a matter you have been avoiding," the Chubu leader said, his tone turning serious once more. "The concessions we gave to the Three Factions of the Christians: what do you want to do about it?"
"You know the areas given to the Three Factions weren't chosen by us, but were bestowed by Takamagahara itself," Yasaka replied, her elegant brow furrowing slightly as she tried to discern where Bushin was leading the conversation.
"I mean: are we just going to passively accept everything they do in those territories?" Bushin clarified, leaning forward. "I am not suggesting we reconquer them or send spies. I am merely proposing we push to revise the accords. It happens too often that some of our people are killed, or even worse, enslaved, because some devil or angel believed they were trespassing on their 'granted' land."
However, after a few seconds of observing the cautious expressions on Yasaka and Sojobo's faces, he leaned back with a sigh.
"But I understand the political reasoning behind our current stance. I have my hands tied and cannot intervene in those matters without risking too much," he conceded, a note of frustration in his voice that brought a subtle sense of relief to his counterparts.
"So, we are all in agreement, then?" Sojobo asked, his voice cautious. "Is there anything else you wish to add, Bushin?"
"No," Bushin said, waving a dismissive hand. "Let's end this quickly. I need to get back to my studies." He stood and shook hands with both the Tengu King and Yasaka, the gesture formal but carrying the weight of their new alliance.
"I hope this will be the start of a fruitful cooperation, Bushin," Yasaka said, a genuine smile gracing her features.
"Yeah, but I was the easiest to convince," Bushin remarked with a wry smirk. "I wish you good luck with Toku or Kiritagi. And what about Nurarihyon? Has the old man made a decision yet?" This was his final question before taking his leave.
"He is too busy dealing with the Outcasts of Yomi," Yasaka informed him. "From all reports, after Kyushu, the Kanto region is where their presence is strongest."
"Those traitors..." Bushin muttered with clear disdain. "Didn't Toku send a task force to raid their base of operations in Tsushima?"
"We have not received any news yet," Sojobo answered. "We will inform you as soon as we know more."
As the yokai leaders concluded their historic meeting, Daugouc was already making his way to a secluded corner of the park, near the backlot of a staged wild west attraction. He waited, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
'My king, I hope this is not a waste of time,' he thought. 'I remain doubtful about the Ouroboros taking the reins of a faction after all their centuries of neutrality.'
"You are late," the dark elf stated flatly when he finally noticed Kuroka approaching him, her invisibility dropped.
"I encountered some... annoyances, nyaah," the nekomata replied, her voice deliberately casual as she avoided giving any specifics.
"If you are certain you were not followed, it is fine," Daugouc said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Now, as you should know, there is a meeting between the yokai leaders of Kansai and Chubu concluding in my office, so we do not have much time. My king wishes to know how the Khaos Brigade can help with our... ambitions in Alfheim."
Kuroka offered a sardonic smile, her golden eyes glinting with a knowing light. "The power of infinity is what our leader grants. Ophis, the Ouroboros Dragon: one of the two great dragon gods," she said, as if that explained everything.
"And why would Ophis help us?" Daugouc asked, his skepticism evident.
"To create an opposing force that will shake the current, stagnant state of the supernatural world," Kuroka lied smoothly. She knew the truth—that Ophis merely sought powerful followers to challenge Great Red—but that was not a selling point. "If you require a demonstration of Ophis's commitment, look at this."
She produced a small, green snake from within her sleeve. It coiled lazily around her wrist, radiating a palpable, overwhelming aura of power.
"This contains a fraction of the power of Ophis, nyaah," she said, her smirk widening.
"I find it difficult to believe," Daugouc admitted, though his eyes were locked on the serpent with a mixture of awe and avarice. "Why now, of all times, would the Infinity Dragon intervene in supernatural politics, breaking a neutrality held for eons? However... that is a substantial proof. I find it unlikely you could steal something like that from Ophis."
The energy radiating from the snake was undeniable; it was clear that using it could elevate even a low-class being to a position of immense power.
"This is something only Lady Ophis knows, nyaah. So, what is your answer?" Kuroka pressed, wanting to conclude the meeting swiftly. The emotional toll of seeing Shirone had left her drained and yearning for solitude.
"I will speak with King Malekith about this immediately," Daugouc said, his gaze still fixed on the Ophis Snake. "If he is satisfied, he will wish to meet with Ophis personally. And what of this snake?"
"Consider it a gift from our boss, nyaah," Kuroka said teasingly, handing the dormant reptile over to the dark elf.
"I will inform my king at once. I bid you farewell," Daugouc replied quickly, already turning to leave, the precious serpent carefully concealed within his suit jacket.
The moment he was gone, Kuroka's confident posture slumped. She let out a long, weary sigh. "I messed up..." she whispered to the empty air.
The Ophis Snake was supposed to be a last resort, only to be used if Daugouc proved uncooperative and needed a significant incentive. Vali had explicitly warned her to part with it only under extreme circumstances.
They were spies within the Khaos Brigade, not recruiters. But her encounter with Shirone had left her emotionally raw, her judgment clouded by a desperate need to finish the mission and retreat into herself.
"Sorry, Vali..." she muttered, her voice heavy with regret. "I know our mission here is also meant to help me earn some leniency regarding my sentence."
The careless handing over of such a powerful artifact was a misstep, one she could only hope wouldn't come back to haunt them all.
With a heavy heart, she melted back into the shadows, the brief, painful glimpse of her sister a far greater weight on her soul than any political consequence.