2025-10-21: Who Holds Your Chains
- Log: Who Holds Your Chains?
- Cast: Umie Akabane, Hiroto Nakamura
- Where: Triple 7, Central Street, Shibuya
- OOC Date: October 21, 2025
- IC Date: July 29, 2012
- Summary: Umie has been busy being a little troublemaker. That means, naturally, someone has to teach her a lesson about keeping her head low, and who better than the Ferryman?
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
Triple Seven, night shift. There's definitely other places Umie works at, but there's something nice about a place that will always have a shift for you when your schedule is open for it. However, eventually, it means things like night shifts, which Umie is on now.
Umie... doesn't *mind* night shifts, as it's a reliable, easy way to ensure a paycheck (that doesn't involve getting chased by a demon or shadow), but there's a certain event that complicates things: the Dark Hour. Which is where the origami and the oddly apple-shaped egg timer come in.
No one has found the origami culprit, but little origami creatures keep being hidden in different areas around the break room and behind the register. They show up in the middle of the night, leading people to employees to suspect something larger at play, like a neferious plot. Secret messages! Maybe valuable trade secrets are being passed to the konbini down the way!
(Nah, it's just Umie being bored.)
Otherwise, she'd set her timer and fall asleep at the register, or try to position herself as being one of those who are conveniently in the back doing some odd task.
Which leads us to:
===TONIGHT===
It's rather busy despite the hour, a side effect of where the business sits. It'll never match the surge in activity that happens after school or after particular shifts let out. Red brown eyes travel to the clock, noting the time.
11:59.
It's been a part of her life for so long that she can barely remember a time without it. There was always a thirteenth hour. To take it out would be like taking out the eleventh or tenth hour each day, and not account for it.
Katou-san, a sleep-addled college student, pauses just inside the entrance to the employee area. He stifles a yawn, and looks back towards Umie. "I think I forgot something--"
Two salarymen are just about to pass out the sliding glass doors, holding some containers of something that will pass as a meal. The warm night air rushes in from outside.
It's enough time for someone to slip past them; they're too tipsy to realize they're blocking the flow of traffic.
DARK HOUR
And now, silence. Lights go out, coffins appear, and Umie sits alone at the register, suffering from a yawn she caught from Katou. Out comes her egg timer, which she twists to be forty-five minutes.
Maybe a nap would be nice.
<Pose Tracker> Hiroto Nakamura has posed.
Triple Seven is in a neighborhood where, sometimes, a man with a mask can pass through without a problem. Especially if the only thing in his way are two drunk salarymen.
The Ferryman covers the lower half of his face with a hand, slipping right past the salarymen, looking much like one of them himself, with his black tie with a white coin on it and basic dark suit. Leather shoes step across the tiles...
As the Dark Hour clicks into action. Lights go out, coffins appear, and a young woman yawns. But, unfortunately, the footsteps don't stop. They're at a casual pace, as glinting in the light of the green, Umie will see him.
The Ferryman has square glasses on and that same new black tie she's never seen before. He could be anyone. Except for that mask. The lower half of his face has a red oni mask, the type a samurai would wear, with tusks and a grin.
The Ferryman pauses, as he takes in every coffin, every accessory, everything in the store. And then he speaks, his voice somewhat cold and even, if... also sorrowful, as he picks up a bag of chips, staring at the health contents for five seconds, before placing it back down and...
"Umie Akabane. You have been marked to be taught a lesson. I apologize. Clocking in."
He winds his wristwatch, setting a timer much like she did with her egg timer.
"It's time to prepare your toll."
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
Umie would think, in a city where the Phantom Thieves have become a hot topic, masks would become more of an issue. However, that's the thing: only people like her have ever seen them and their masks, as well as the fact that they exist at all, rather than serve as a figment of everyone's imaginations.
And she, herself, wears a mask, though hers are the kind she makes herself.
The only mask Umie wears now is the one of a normal, boring cashier clerk, dressed in the dark pink and green uniform.
And, during the Dark Hour, that mask is very, very suspect, as she stands, un-transmogrified, like a forgotten, overlooked detail.
As Umie settles into thoughts of how she'll spend this hour, she looks towards both exits, and sighs. Boxed in. Ah well--
There's a pair of footsteps here, as well as a resonance that takes a moment for Umie to remember. ... Ah yes. The dutiful father, from the Cardboard Dragon. Here, during the Dark Hour. She never revealed she had a Persona, and to his own senses, it'd seem like she didn't have one.
It does little to save her now, as the Ferryman reveals his purpose.
There's a breath, a sound passing Umie's lips like disappointment. "I hate it when my paranoia proves me right." She taps her fingernails on the counter, before taking off her hat and setting it aside. "Sorry, but I'm the tutor here," she says, with a hint of iron in her voice. "The only lessons that will be learned here is that you do *not* interfere with my salary work. Go sit back at the other end of the store, take off that stupid mask, and go back to your daughter after the Dark Hour is over-- if you even have one." Tap tap tap.
"Who are you running errands for? Surely you have enough time to answer *that*."
<Pose Tracker> Hiroto Nakamura has posed.
Umie starts tapping her fingernails. The Ferryman is not moved, as his voice remains even in response. "I'm afraid that's not an option. I'm on the clock." He sighs tensely once, when his daughter is mentioned, a nerve hit that might make it clear that there's *someone* he cares about. "I apologize once more. I will make sure your wounds will heal as nicely as possible." He starts rummaging through the chips, picking them up and checking nutritional content.
Finally, he grabs one of the bags, looks it over, and then, after it's been made a routine, suddenly throws it without even turning his head, straight at Umie with enough force it'll detonate on contact into an explosion of potato. This is followed by him turning, lifting his hand. There's an unsettling feeling.
"Charon."
In the next flicker, the unsettling feeling goes *bad*, a sene of disorienting unease that washes over. Umie will recognize it intimately.
A giant bronze coin, much like the kinds the Greeks had, manifests in front of him. On the side facing Umie, an uncanny ferryman with an oar and too long limbs and posture stands, black cracks sliding through the coin, revealing unsettling things if one gazes into them for too long.
A blast of water follows soon after, trying to spray Umie backwards into the wall.
"Does that answer your question?"
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
Umie doesn't miss that reaction, when she mentions his daughter. The Badb in her wants to go further, using it as a weakness somehow against the Ferryman, but Umie is still Umie.
And that person's opinion of Hiroto Nakamura changed simply because he mentioned his daughter, and had asked for Umie's opinion.
Besides, it could still be an act, perhaps one he regrets now.
"That doesn't make me feel any better," the blonde grumbles. "How long will it be before you're on the shit list, if you're already caving in?"
_Umie, you need to make him *less* likely to severely wound you, not *more*.
A potato chip bag explodes against Umie's face, like an insult, as chips litter the floor and and her uniform. "*Really*--"
But them, that feeling hits her, that terrible, awful, familiar feeling, if lesser and unused, that infested that circus in Sumaru City, stank up every instance of the Old Maid's attacks, and happened on Ebisu Beach in what feels like over a year ago.
It shocks Umie enough that she's not prepared for what happens next, as Charon's water blast smacks her against the reinforced window behind her, the blinds skewed further as they swing to and fro.
"There's coffins here, you idiot!" she hisses. "You want to add to that counter of yours that bad?!"
Which, of course, means Umie is similarly constrained.
But not completely.
"_Badb_."
Umie's resonance is now fully in view, the shroud over her self dispelled by the act of revealing her other self.
Thankfully, she doesn't need to unveil all her secrets to do so, such as the similar Mark on her own soul.
The pale woman garbed in grey appears behind Umie as she gets up, one hand on the cigarette display next to her to keep from slipping in what is now wet potato sludge on the floor. WIth a glare, Umie grabs for a mop handle nearby as Badb gestures her delicate red gloved hands at the Ferryman, attempting to inflict a veil of panic onto him as Umie ducks low and slides underneath the raisable counter, allowing her to get close enogh to jab a damp mophead at Hiroto to force him back.
<Pose Tracker> Hiroto Nakamura has posed.
"Words are cheap. I will get the job done," the Ferryman speaks plainly. AS the chips explode and Charon blasts her back, he's speaking again, approaching like he has all the time in the world, no rush to his steps.
"I am a professional. They will not be harmed." The Ferryman adjusts his glasses, as Badb comes out, tying to instill panic.
If it takes hold, it's only for a moment, causing him to nearly slip on chips himself, which may have been a pathetic defeat. Instead, however, he shifts his momentum at the last moment, moving a hand to reach up and *graB* the stick of the mop as it strikes, pushing him back but not losing leverage over it.
Then, he twists with the skills of an expert martial artist, trying to *win* the contest over the mop and pull it into his hand. He wants a reach weapon!!! If he manages to get a hold of it, or even if he loses his leverage, he moves to *mantle* the counter, slide forward, and strike Umie with a clean kick to force distance enough to get them into close combat, where he excels. There may be a hint of panic in his body language, showing how, exactly, he *responds* to panic... by becoming a living terminator.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
"And it's that lack of forethought that probably got you into this mess," Umie says with a smirk, in spite of the way her uniform is currently sopping wet.
Which, considering this is Umie, may be a case of the pot calling the kettle black.
Over the contest over the mop, Umie attempts to jerk the mop back enough until she feels the Ferryman's hold on the other end, then release it to try to make him trip.
Unfortunately, he's already coming at her with a kick as she's hunched down, hitting her in the face and disorientating her as she falls back.
In the exact moment Umie can form a thought, Badb's pale form appears again, encasing both in a cloud of dark, with Umie retreating back out of it to duck down an aisle, one hand still holding her face. That'll definitely leave a bruise.
<Pose Tracker> Hiroto Nakamura has posed.
"You don't know why I fight," the Ferryman says with a grimace hidden only by his mask. As Umie tries to trip him up, she does succeed in getting him to stagger once she disappears, though he now has a MOP. He takes a moment to breathe, to reorient himself.
"People like us, we have no choice but to fight. The question is only who holds our chains," he says, as he starts progressing around the counter, scanning the aisles for her, mop in hand.
And then, he finds her eventually, and moves to sweep the belongings of the nearest shelf onto her to rattle her, before moving to strike forth with the mop like it was a spear, a one-two strike moving to jab right into her ribs.
"Who holds yours, Umie Akabane?"
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
"I think I do, because you make the mistake of meeting me first. It's your family." Umie doesn't sound that delighted; it's an advantage she can't comfortably hold over him, or poke at, assuming it really exists at all. It exists in a weak spot for her; it was pursuing the love of her parents that even got her into this mess in the first place. Perhaps, if things had gone a different way...
But that choice happened for all of them, the Ferryman included. To access that ritual room, one had to enter.
'People like us...'
So she takes another route: inflicting her own pain on him.
"Tell me, was your family on your mind, when you went into that red room? Did you feel like you had to get *invited* before you could enter your own home, after you felt that touch on your arm? Did you feel like it'd someday appear on someone else's arm, like your significant other, or your dau--"
Badb appears again, just as a shelf worth of packaged food items come crashing down on Umie, shutting her verbal attack as her other begins.
If it hits, exhaustion will fall on the Ferryman as one jab of his mop hits something suitably soft, the other landing on some chips as Umie scrambles away.
Who holds Umie Akabane's chains?
The answer is not immediate, but when it does come, it comes all at once: a small form, climbing up from another aisle, holding a cheap wine bottle as a blunt force weapon, which she swings down at the Ferryman's face.
"_I do_," she wheezes.
<Pose Tracker> Hiroto Nakamura has posed.
Umie fights back better with her words than her fists, in this situation. As she mentions his family, his breath stills, a clear reveal. She follows it up with pain...
And then hits him with exhaustion, slowing his attack. It's clear she struck a nerve. He breathes raggedly for a long moment. His eyes narrow, but he doesn't move.
Come on. Is that really it? Worn down by a konbini clerk because she poked too harshly at the ties that bind? Everyone has them. Shouldn't that make you want to fight more?
Hiroto shakes his head once, as Umie returns with that wine bottle. He hears her coming.
Don't you want to get mad? Don't you want to show her who's really in control here?
As the bottle comes down, suddenly, his hand is moving, allowing it to shatter against his bicep rather than take the heavy blow straight to the face.
"Shut up. Everyone in this world does what they are told. Or are you meaning to tell there's no influences on you?"
He suddenly takes a bajiquan stance, before moving to start striking with bleeding, wine-covered arms and elbows, something he held back on. Explosive blows of striking force come out, rapid and short-ranged, trying to overwhelm her.
Atta boy. Show her what you're made of.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
It's clear: Umie prefers to not fight head on. She knows her strengths, and while she could make it happen, in a limited space without her gear or equipment, she's forced to depend on what's in her environment instead.
All is fair game when you're trapped in a corner... except, not quite.
It's only because she limits herself that she's even in this situation.
'Why not show him how it's really done? Summon a demon or two?' On the other end, Mai-chan's voice cheers Umie on in the worst way; Umie chooses to push the idea out of her mind.
The wine bottle shatters over that bicep; that suit clearly is hiding the full range of of his physical strength. Which makes it all the more reason to consider...
She now has a sharp weapon. She could thrust that straight into his face, or neck.
She's made it clear that she's willing to kill, right? ... Or was that just blustering?
The Old Maid was one thing; she couldn't bring herself to attack an officer, no matter how out of control he was moments before he transmogrified.
This man is clearly reluctant, operating under beliefs that corral him into a weapon to be used at will to surpress others. There are people who care for him, most likely. He must have a family.
All her mind can do is show her a muffled news report about a missing person, the TV showing a smiling man with his family.
She'll twist the knife another way; the broken bottle will just be used as a means to keep him from getting too close, attempting to swipe at him as he changes in.
The right side of her face is beginning to swell up; her ribs burn. If she had attacked first, this wouldn't have happened...
"Is *that* the lesson you want to impose on your daughter? 'Do what you're told', 'keep your head down--"
Strikes manage to pierce through, pressing her against the other side of the aisle, cushioned by hanging bags of cough drops and bottles of cough medicine. A numb hand manages to snatch a bottle of cleaning alcohol and chucks it sharply at Hiroto's face, trying to give Umie more room to move and retreat again.
<Pose Tracker> Hiroto Nakamura has posed.
It does not go unnoticed that Umie has a sharp weapon and could kill him right now. Yet, the Ferryman - no, Hiroto, the mask has fallen a bit - is still fighting. As she considers, as the broken bottle swipes, he's cut again, more blood dripping from his arms.
He doesn't respond at first, as the cleaning alcohol flies at his face. He tilts his head to the side, allowing it to glance off, but it'll leave a bruise on his cheek.
"What I want isn't relevant right now."
He says it so *coldly*, so matter of fact, as he attempts to disarm her of the wine bottle - if he succeeds, to her benefit, he'll just chuck it to the side, instead of letting it hit either of them.
"Charon. End this."
A flicker again, but for a moment, Umie won't see the coin.
And then, it comes from above, rapidly trying to crash into her, as he goes to trip with a quick kick, before ramming his elbow forward, trying to smash it into her solar plexus and end the fight then and there. He might not succeed, but it's clear he's getting a lot more ruthless about this fight.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
Damn it, it didn't burst open. Umie didn't throw it hard enough. She'll just grab another bottle and--
With her focus elsewhere, the wine bottle gets swiped out of her hand, leaving her without a weapon.
No, forget a found weapon; Umie needs to act directly, or just assume this man won't stop at giving her a 'lesson'.
"Badb!" Umie hisses at nearly the same time as the Ferryman.
A bone-chilling shriek shrouds the area in dark, targetting the soul through any cracks still left from panick or exhaustion. The coin crashes into the young woman, allowing Hiroto to trip her--
but the elbow doesn't land cleanly, hitting her sore ribs rather than the solar plexus. Still, it stuns Umie, who tries to thrust a foot out towards Hiroto's neck as she lays on the ground, too winded to speak properly.
But, like him, she's still fighting, her one unbruised eye glaring up at him.
It'll just get worse from here, if she lets it end easily.
<Pose Tracker> Hiroto Nakamura has posed.
The shriek does, at least, help with causing the elbow to miss, as Hiroto is staggered backwards even as Umie hits the ground. Her own leg flies for his neck, but this may be the difference between them.
Hiroto is a masterful martial artist, and the way he sees it, Umie is a wounded animal.
His arm reaches out to catch her leg and divert the blow lower, taking the shock but having a grasp of her flailing leg. He shifts it, trying to flip her out of an advantageous spot on the floor.
"You're lucky. Time's running out. I'll be off the clock soon enough." He shows his watch to prove such... he allotted a certain amount of time to this fight, after all.
And then, he moves to stomp down on her with a fierce kick, trying to knock her out with a fierce blow. That'll be enough for his employer, at least.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
'Y**** lu**, time* running out. ********** cloc* soon e*****.' Hiroto's words barely seem to register, at this point, feeling like they're being filtered through cotton; Hiroto comparing Umie to a wounded animal is apt.
As Hiroto grasps Umie's leg easily despite there being some resistance. The same nails that tapped on the counter grab for something to throw, but come away empty as Hiroto flips her over like a turtle.
And like a turtle, when that foot comes down, she stops, finally knocked out.
The store has seen better days, with water, and several aisles trashed, but the coffins are untouched, their occupants safe and none the wiser. Umie, meanwhile, lies unconscious, the right side of her face beginning to blotch up and bruise. The job is done, but Umie didn't make it easy or clean.
<Pose Tracker> Hiroto Nakamura has posed.
As the foot goes down, Hiroto's quickly lifting it off once he confirms she's knocked out. He sighs, taking a long breath.
"Fuck."
And then, he's moving towards Umie...
When Umie awakens, by the time the Dark Hour has faded, he's gone. A pack of bandages has been left next to her, and a note and some cash has been stuffed into her pocket.
This should cover pain relievers, or some of your shift if you'd rather not. There's a pharmacy I scoped out down the street on the left, not connected to any conspiracy. Good luck. reads the note, left with neat handwriting, the kind a salaryman would possess.
'Such sentiment simply because she had the same fears as you. You really think that won't come back to bite you, little wolf?'