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FEBHYURARY 2024 :: Day 9 - Sun
The city was still spinning as the sun rose between distant gaps in the skyline. Ariadne grimaced against its warming glow, wearily shielding her eyes before ducking into the slowly shortening shadows of the towers on the opposite side of the street. She lifted her head, a headache already pounding behind her eyes, her fuzzy vision focusing at last at a balcony far above covered in hanging plants. Given the angle of the sun, she guessed she had about two hours before she was expected to give a lecture - about what?
She stood slack-jawed on the steep ramp leading to her building’s lobby. What was the lecture about? Sexual reproduction of flowering plants, she remembered, the ghost of a childish smirk crossing her face for just a moment. Two hours, she thought, dragging her feet across the lobby to the elevator. Enough time for a shower and maybe food, but certainly not for sleep. It took her a moment to remember which floor she wanted, but the building remembered for her: a pleasant chime as the doors closed and the lift ascended to the 12th floor.
She dreaded these elevator rides. Alone with her thoughts at last, they invariably drifted back to her latest regret. She sifted through her memories, trying to sort out which happened last night, and which happened the night before, or the night before that, or some time in the distant past. So many memories to keep track of and so few (and such temporary) ways to forget.
...
He was there. Probably dragged along by his partner (or his partner’s partner, more like), his back was turned to her when she wandered downstairs from the symposium on the roof to refill her drink. She slipped behind a group of taller Phantomology students, grabbed an entire bottle of wine off a table, and slid into a storage room off the lecture hall without him noticing. She hoped, anyway. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she considered her situation. No other way out of this room. Nothing fun in here, either, just more chairs. She sighed, and opened the door. And there he was. He was still wearing his mask, though the hood had been thrown back, and covering his mouth with his hand in anticipation of her emerging from the storage room. She couldn’t see it, but she knew he was smirking.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” His voice held no trace of amusement. She bought herself some time by downing the entire glass of wine she had just poured, and poured herself another, as Hades leaned back against the wall, his shoulders slumping. He seemed to be deflating.
“No,” she responded flatly, looking for the exit as her burning cheeks betrayed her again. Maybe he would think it was just a response to the alcohol. A foolish thought. A nearby group of students shifted towards the stairs to the roof, leaving them far more room alone than Ariadne was comfortable with. Hades took the opportunity to move closer.
“I missed you,” he ventured, keeping his face turned from hers, his hand dangling dangerously close to hers. An invitation. One she should not entertain. She took another large gulp of her wine, though she couldn’t repeat her earlier performance without consequence.
“I didn’t go anywhere. I was here,” she gestured emphatically around her, wine sloshing in the glass, “the entire time.” The unsaid thing drifted in the small space between them. That was the problem.
…
The elevator chimed again, doors opening smoothly. She stepped into the hallway and doors closed behind her again. She followed the track of soft lights down the corridor, pausing in front of room 1216. She rustled around her bag for a key, eyes unfocused on anything before she recognized a spore growing from a corner of the door frame. It wasn’t there yesterday. Probably wasn’t there yesterday. She hadn’t looked. Another one escaped.
She unlocked the door and entered her apartment. It was pitch black, thanks in part to the dark, thick drapes she had tacked up against the windows. She’d have to redouble her efforts at keeping her specimens contained. Halmarut had given her an earful about keeping her research at the Akadaemia, but she insisted on bringing it home. At the time, she claimed it was because she needed to test spore reactions to different environments, but here, alone, she knew it was because her work kept him away. It kept everyone away, in fact - a convenient excuse to keep going out and never bring anyone home. This was her space: to be as uninviting and hostile as she wanted.
She dropped her bag in the middle of the room and wrenched her way out of her robes, turning on the harsh light in the washroom and gazing into the mirror for a moment. Her neck and shoulders were painted in lipstick smudges, small bruises, and bite marks. She fluttered her fingertips over one of the marks, trying to remember who was responsible. Her stomach dropped when she realized it was one of his.
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Rain Code Chapter 5 and Epilogue Spoilers
The ending of this game has given me such intense major brainrot it's unbelievable. And not to mention all of the FUCKING SYMBOLISM AND PARALLELS AND FOILS I CAN SQUEEZE OUT OF THIS THING
Yuma and Makoto being Number One, looking for a Perfect Solution without Emotion.
Yuma taking the first step to grow out of that ideal by entrusting his memories to Shinigami.
Essentially shedding himself from the chains of his previous identity as Number One. By giving Shinigami the Key to his memories.
Shinigami who creates Solution Keys. Solution Keys that can unlock the Chain of Mysteries blocking the path to the truth. (Chapter 4 Mystery Labyrinth)
And time and time and time and time again throughout the game, Yuma had others helping him. Being there for him. Taking care of him. Loving him.
And despite him falling in despair time and time and time and time and time again, as Shinigami reaps the soul of the culprit, someone was there to pick him up again.
It might've hurt. It might've been painful. Uncovering and facing the truth. But together, he was able to handle it. He was able to live more freely, more happily being unchained from mysteries. Having people there in his life.
Maybe he been different when he was Number One.
Maybe he had been alone.
At first.
But now, he is not.
And though he may have lost Number One, he has gained freedom and happiness through others.
It's ironic how The One chained to a Death God was the free one.
Now let's think about Makoto.
Did he had anyone there when he learned the painful truth?
Had he known during then that there was others like him?
Facing the truth of being a Homonculus all alone...
It would be painful.
It would be lonely.
And even then, when he had found out he wasn't the only one.
He alone was the only one that could've saved them from themselves.
Saved them from the sunlight.
Caging them all in the unending rain.
He faced all of the problems of Kanai Ward by himself.
Manipulating those he see fit in order to keep Kanai Ward safe.
Despite being Number One, He could not seek the Perfect Solution through the Truth.
He covered and chained himself in so many lies and mysteries that he could not help himself.
And others could not help him.
There was no Solution to be found.
Here was no keys to be found by him or someone else who could've helped him escape from the entangle of chains of mysteries he had trapped himself in.
Think about it, in the Mystery Labyrinth, his Mystery Phantom acted so much like the lost and scared Yuma we have known. So blinded by all of the mysteries and alone that he refused the truth.
There was noone in that Labyrinth helping Phantom Makoto except Actual Makoto.
There was noone in that Labyrinth helping Actual makoto except Phantom Makoto.
He, quite literally, wrapped himself up with all of his clones that wore masks.
He, quite literally, continued to change his masks as he see fit.
He, quite literally, hid himself among his clones that wore masks.
Masks upon masks upon masks.
And despite having had multiple Solution Blades at a few points, he had cut nothing. (From what I remember)
I can't help but think about how Yuma said Makoto was asking for help.
And how in Makoto's last stand, he was quite literally asking for help.
Makoto needed Yuma to use the Solution Blade, the Solution Keys, to cut his mask.
Makoto needed someone to help him.
He was looking for a Perfect Solution, no, an answer, as we stared at his real unmasked face.
He had begged for us to search for the truth and now here we are.
If Yuma making a pact with Shinigami was his cry for help to change.
This was Makoto's cry for help to change.
We just have to wait and see if Makoto can finally be free and happy.
(Though seeing the Epilogue, it seems like Makoto still needs some help to truly finally free himself fully.
His journey isn't over yet.
Let's just hope that help won't come too late yet again.)
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