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Sanctifism;
Title: Sanctifism
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Minato, Tiir, random horrible human beings
Fandom: Persona 3,that one that breaks hearts Legend of the Legendary Heroes
Rating: PG-13 PROBABLY
Warnings: BLOOD, TRAUMA, HORRORS, LOLHEROES. Also Cal making stuff up despite only being on episode 11 sorry if I butchered things.
Summary: He didn’t understand until he experienced it firsthand—and then he understood all too well.
Dedication: To Jan, for playing such an amazing Tiir that I had to watch this and get my heart broken.
Sanctifism
He didn’t know how he arrived there—likely a whim of Vatheon, another of the coral’s quirks, but he arrived nonetheless, collapsed in the dirt slowly congealing into mud as the rain plastered his hair to his head.
Minato lifted his head, blinking around blearily.
How…
He slowly pushed himself to his feet, swaying; he wasn’t injured, and yet he felt somewhat dizzy anyway, slightly off, even as he tried to figure out just where he was now. It took him only a moment to realize that his Personas had been silenced. No…they hadn’t been silenced. They were no longer there.
Minato took a few calming breaths, entirely unnerved by this and suddenly feeling far too defenseless—but when he heard voices, he stepped forward to find out who was there. It was better than the far too silent forest that loomed over him, no sign of civilization anywhere he looked. He had only just tucked his hands into his pockets again, trying to calm himself down despite the lack of Personas and the mud all over his person, when he found the source of the voices.
But what he saw made him freeze.
A group of men, grinning, laughing—they could have been anywhere, any profession, if not for the armor that covered them head to toe, the spears and swords in their hands and at their waists. No, they were soldiers. Even if Minato was not familiar with such archaic soldiers in anything but history books and anime, there was no mistaking them. And these soldiers were very much real.
It only took him a few more moments to realize that they weren’t laughing cheerfully, the sort of laughter that was shared amongst friends…no, this was the sort of harsh laughter that came at the expense of another. Minato knew it well enough, in his experience with all sorts of people.
He knew it well enough that he stepped forward fearlessly, even despite his lack of any sort of defense, because his sense of duty would let him do nothing else.
He stepped forward, and before them on the ground was a child.
She couldn’t have been much older than Maiko, Minato thought to himself. The elementary aged girl had played with him in the park, had cried and laughed and shared her life with him, had given him a ring and promised to marry him someday—
This girl, beaten and sobbing broken tears on the ground, couldn’t have been older than Maiko. Even as he watched, one of the soldiers laughed, sneered, reached down and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up roughly, even as she gasped and sobbed in pain. Minato’s fists clenched even as they fell from his pockets and he stepped forward, drawing in a sharp breath.
“Monster,” the man taunted, tossing her roughly to the ground. “Why don’t you save yourself now, you animal?”
Monster, monster, monster.
It sparked a memory in his mind, a few.
The only monster here is me
If you’re human, you’re certainly not my ally
what does that make me, having murdered others since the day I was born?
A monster, doesn't it?
He didn’t realize he was gaping in horror, unmoving, until one of the soldiers noticed him.
“Hey, kid, what’re you doing here? Scram!”
Minato looked up, slowly meeting the man’s gaze, and his eyes flashed. And for a brief moment, he was purely and truly furious.
“What are you doing?” he asked, tone even—and cold.
The soldiers exchanged glances. And then one of them laughed. “We found ourselves one of them monsters. That doesn’t happen every day. Figured we could have some fun with it before we kill it.”
The girl sobbed quietly, even as a foot on her shoulders ground her into the mud. Minato’s breath hitched.
“Stop it,” he whispered, staring down at her.
A pause; the soldiers hesitated, looking at him. “What was that, kid—“
“Stop it.” Minato’s tone was louder now, but still even, still unerringly calm—which was strange in its delivery.
A guffaw was his answer. “And why should we, eh? Are you in league with these monsters?”
The soldier stepped forward, jamming his finger into Minato’s chest.
Do you truly expect me to believe that?
Humans aren't quite known for being open-minded.
He hadn’t understood, then.
He’d tilted his head and responded quietly, “but not everyone is the same.”
What a fool he’d been, to believe that. But then, he’d always been a Fool. The Fool—infinite possibilities. But also zero possibilities, the flip, the reversed that he should never ever forget.
Minato staggered back when the soldier pushed him, weaponless, lacking even in the presences that usually were right there in his mind.
“Now you’re making me angry,” the man said, gritting his teeth. “Leave, before we really make you wish you’d never crossed us.”
Humans have always despised what is different from them.
He’d frowned. He’d said that he didn’t think that was accurate.
(Ill advised risks, impulsive action, choices and rash decisions. Fool, Fool, Fool.)
He’d been wrong.
“Leave her alone,” Minato bit back, spreading his stance, eyes narrowing. He was not going to win this fight.
But that was the Fool, wasn’t it? He was the Fool, just as he was the World
(Accomplishment. Fulfillment. Success. A culmination of events. It was a heavy burden to bear on his shoulders--)
He had a duty—to people, not to humans. To people. So he lifted his chin and he spoke.
“She is not a monster.”
The man stared at him, all of them stared at him, as if disbelieving—
The spear came out of nowhere, the wood of the handle striking him across the chest, knocking him to the ground, and there came again that hideous laughter, the despicable laughter that came from those who are terrified and thus turn to bullying—yes, Minato knew all about how that works, for he knew how people tick…
He’d thought he did.
I imagine most people enjoy the peace, even if merely once in a while.
Does it surprise you? That a 'monster' like me could have motivations like that?
Minato wheezed, struggling to breathe. It didn’t take long for a boot to his side to quickly force out all air that Minato had managed to draw in, and he coughed, curling up despite himself.
Ah…
Because that's the incredible thing about people, he’d said. They're worth...getting to know.
He still believed it. Choking on nothing, struggling to breathe, shielding himself from the blows of his fellow humans, he still believed it. But there was something ironic about it—Tiir had meant it as if he was the threat. Tiir had never been the threat. Tiir had saved his life, had protected him, had tried to enlighten him.
The toe of a hard boot rammed into his back—
Do you truly expect me to believe that the 'kindness' of humans would extend to someone like me?
--and Minato closed his eyes even as tears of pain welled up in them, cringing despite himself, and no, he really couldn’t expect that now, could he? The one light point in this was that the little girl was no longer the focus of their attention. Perhaps if he held their attention for long enough, she could escape—
“Eadan! Are you alright?”
But it was funny. Minato almost fancied, thinking back on his recollections now, that he could hear Tiir right here and now. He wrapped his arms around his chest and breathed…and when no more blows were forthcoming, he opened his eyes.
The slaughter took all of a few minutes, the human soldiers distracted and then panicked as they were. Minato merely watched, struggling to breathe, blood mixing with the mud on his clothes—but he was no stranger to the taste of blood.
Tiir crouched beside the little girl, who clung to him like he was her savior. It did not take Minato long to realize that he was, and his as well.
I'll change the world, where my friends aren't even granted the right to live—I'll remake it into one where they can live happily.
(Devotion to a worthwhile cause. Sacrifice in the present to reap benefit in the future. Rebirth. The Hanged Man--)
Maiko had been the Hanged Man too, hadn’t she, Minato thought dazedly, even as Tiir looked down at him, recognition flashing in his eyes. A slow blink. And he crouched in front of Minato, the girl—Eadan?—clinging to his arm still.
“You interfered.” It wasn’t a question, it was an observation.
Minato slowly pushed himself up, despite his body’s protests—he’d been through worse.
“You saved that child.” The response was in a similar tone, even as Minato quietly reached out for the girl. She watched him warily, and Minato noted that Tiir did the same. Ha…he was the guardian of these children, wasn’t he?
Sacrifice in the present, to reap for the future. How much had Tiir given for these children?
But the child did not retreat, and quietly, Minato placed his hand on the top of her head, eyes narrowing slightly but only because for the first time in years, he found that there were tears in them.
“I’ve been a fool, Tiir-san,” Minato murmured quietly, running his fingers gently through the girl’s hair, pleased to see her relax and loosen her grip slightly on Tiir’s arm.
Tiir opened his mouth to speak, but Minato was not finished just yet.
“I wanted…to forgive them.” He swallowed, somewhat painfully. “To forgive humanity, when you told me. To forgive…everyone.”
Because that is what he had always done. That was what he had fought for. That was what he had died for. Forgiveness. A second chance. But—
“I no longer know if I can believe that they deserve it,” he whispered, half to himself.
These were the humans who killed children—who murdered those like Tiir. Who made Tiir’s life a living nightmare.
And for the first time in his life, Minato’s faith had been shaken. Perhaps it wasn’t a surprise, then, that the tears spilled over and ran down his face—but he seemed surprised nonetheless, reaching a hand up slowly to touch one wet cheek, almost marveling.
…How strange.
(Inability to bring something to a satisfactory end. The World—in reverse.)
He looked up at Tiir and a quiet ‘heh’ left his lips, even as the tears didn’t stop, and he said simply, “I think it’s my turn to beg for forgiveness.”
For so many things. And for once, the messiah was unsure if he even truly deserved such a consideration.
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Minato, Tiir, random horrible human beings
Fandom: Persona 3,
Rating: PG-13 PROBABLY
Warnings: BLOOD, TRAUMA, HORRORS, LOLHEROES. Also Cal making stuff up despite only being on episode 11 sorry if I butchered things.
Summary: He didn’t understand until he experienced it firsthand—and then he understood all too well.
Dedication: To Jan, for playing such an amazing Tiir that I had to watch this and get my heart broken.
He didn’t know how he arrived there—likely a whim of Vatheon, another of the coral’s quirks, but he arrived nonetheless, collapsed in the dirt slowly congealing into mud as the rain plastered his hair to his head.
Minato lifted his head, blinking around blearily.
How…
He slowly pushed himself to his feet, swaying; he wasn’t injured, and yet he felt somewhat dizzy anyway, slightly off, even as he tried to figure out just where he was now. It took him only a moment to realize that his Personas had been silenced. No…they hadn’t been silenced. They were no longer there.
Minato took a few calming breaths, entirely unnerved by this and suddenly feeling far too defenseless—but when he heard voices, he stepped forward to find out who was there. It was better than the far too silent forest that loomed over him, no sign of civilization anywhere he looked. He had only just tucked his hands into his pockets again, trying to calm himself down despite the lack of Personas and the mud all over his person, when he found the source of the voices.
But what he saw made him freeze.
A group of men, grinning, laughing—they could have been anywhere, any profession, if not for the armor that covered them head to toe, the spears and swords in their hands and at their waists. No, they were soldiers. Even if Minato was not familiar with such archaic soldiers in anything but history books and anime, there was no mistaking them. And these soldiers were very much real.
It only took him a few more moments to realize that they weren’t laughing cheerfully, the sort of laughter that was shared amongst friends…no, this was the sort of harsh laughter that came at the expense of another. Minato knew it well enough, in his experience with all sorts of people.
He knew it well enough that he stepped forward fearlessly, even despite his lack of any sort of defense, because his sense of duty would let him do nothing else.
He stepped forward, and before them on the ground was a child.
She couldn’t have been much older than Maiko, Minato thought to himself. The elementary aged girl had played with him in the park, had cried and laughed and shared her life with him, had given him a ring and promised to marry him someday—
This girl, beaten and sobbing broken tears on the ground, couldn’t have been older than Maiko. Even as he watched, one of the soldiers laughed, sneered, reached down and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up roughly, even as she gasped and sobbed in pain. Minato’s fists clenched even as they fell from his pockets and he stepped forward, drawing in a sharp breath.
“Monster,” the man taunted, tossing her roughly to the ground. “Why don’t you save yourself now, you animal?”
Monster, monster, monster.
It sparked a memory in his mind, a few.
The only monster here is me
If you’re human, you’re certainly not my ally
what does that make me, having murdered others since the day I was born?
A monster, doesn't it?
He didn’t realize he was gaping in horror, unmoving, until one of the soldiers noticed him.
“Hey, kid, what’re you doing here? Scram!”
Minato looked up, slowly meeting the man’s gaze, and his eyes flashed. And for a brief moment, he was purely and truly furious.
“What are you doing?” he asked, tone even—and cold.
The soldiers exchanged glances. And then one of them laughed. “We found ourselves one of them monsters. That doesn’t happen every day. Figured we could have some fun with it before we kill it.”
The girl sobbed quietly, even as a foot on her shoulders ground her into the mud. Minato’s breath hitched.
“Stop it,” he whispered, staring down at her.
A pause; the soldiers hesitated, looking at him. “What was that, kid—“
“Stop it.” Minato’s tone was louder now, but still even, still unerringly calm—which was strange in its delivery.
A guffaw was his answer. “And why should we, eh? Are you in league with these monsters?”
The soldier stepped forward, jamming his finger into Minato’s chest.
Do you truly expect me to believe that?
Humans aren't quite known for being open-minded.
He hadn’t understood, then.
He’d tilted his head and responded quietly, “but not everyone is the same.”
What a fool he’d been, to believe that. But then, he’d always been a Fool. The Fool—infinite possibilities. But also zero possibilities, the flip, the reversed that he should never ever forget.
Minato staggered back when the soldier pushed him, weaponless, lacking even in the presences that usually were right there in his mind.
“Now you’re making me angry,” the man said, gritting his teeth. “Leave, before we really make you wish you’d never crossed us.”
Humans have always despised what is different from them.
He’d frowned. He’d said that he didn’t think that was accurate.
(Ill advised risks, impulsive action, choices and rash decisions. Fool, Fool, Fool.)
He’d been wrong.
“Leave her alone,” Minato bit back, spreading his stance, eyes narrowing. He was not going to win this fight.
But that was the Fool, wasn’t it? He was the Fool, just as he was the World
(Accomplishment. Fulfillment. Success. A culmination of events. It was a heavy burden to bear on his shoulders--)
He had a duty—to people, not to humans. To people. So he lifted his chin and he spoke.
“She is not a monster.”
The man stared at him, all of them stared at him, as if disbelieving—
The spear came out of nowhere, the wood of the handle striking him across the chest, knocking him to the ground, and there came again that hideous laughter, the despicable laughter that came from those who are terrified and thus turn to bullying—yes, Minato knew all about how that works, for he knew how people tick…
He’d thought he did.
I imagine most people enjoy the peace, even if merely once in a while.
Does it surprise you? That a 'monster' like me could have motivations like that?
Minato wheezed, struggling to breathe. It didn’t take long for a boot to his side to quickly force out all air that Minato had managed to draw in, and he coughed, curling up despite himself.
Ah…
Because that's the incredible thing about people, he’d said. They're worth...getting to know.
He still believed it. Choking on nothing, struggling to breathe, shielding himself from the blows of his fellow humans, he still believed it. But there was something ironic about it—Tiir had meant it as if he was the threat. Tiir had never been the threat. Tiir had saved his life, had protected him, had tried to enlighten him.
The toe of a hard boot rammed into his back—
Do you truly expect me to believe that the 'kindness' of humans would extend to someone like me?
--and Minato closed his eyes even as tears of pain welled up in them, cringing despite himself, and no, he really couldn’t expect that now, could he? The one light point in this was that the little girl was no longer the focus of their attention. Perhaps if he held their attention for long enough, she could escape—
“Eadan! Are you alright?”
But it was funny. Minato almost fancied, thinking back on his recollections now, that he could hear Tiir right here and now. He wrapped his arms around his chest and breathed…and when no more blows were forthcoming, he opened his eyes.
The slaughter took all of a few minutes, the human soldiers distracted and then panicked as they were. Minato merely watched, struggling to breathe, blood mixing with the mud on his clothes—but he was no stranger to the taste of blood.
Tiir crouched beside the little girl, who clung to him like he was her savior. It did not take Minato long to realize that he was, and his as well.
I'll change the world, where my friends aren't even granted the right to live—I'll remake it into one where they can live happily.
(Devotion to a worthwhile cause. Sacrifice in the present to reap benefit in the future. Rebirth. The Hanged Man--)
Maiko had been the Hanged Man too, hadn’t she, Minato thought dazedly, even as Tiir looked down at him, recognition flashing in his eyes. A slow blink. And he crouched in front of Minato, the girl—Eadan?—clinging to his arm still.
“You interfered.” It wasn’t a question, it was an observation.
Minato slowly pushed himself up, despite his body’s protests—he’d been through worse.
“You saved that child.” The response was in a similar tone, even as Minato quietly reached out for the girl. She watched him warily, and Minato noted that Tiir did the same. Ha…he was the guardian of these children, wasn’t he?
Sacrifice in the present, to reap for the future. How much had Tiir given for these children?
But the child did not retreat, and quietly, Minato placed his hand on the top of her head, eyes narrowing slightly but only because for the first time in years, he found that there were tears in them.
“I’ve been a fool, Tiir-san,” Minato murmured quietly, running his fingers gently through the girl’s hair, pleased to see her relax and loosen her grip slightly on Tiir’s arm.
Tiir opened his mouth to speak, but Minato was not finished just yet.
“I wanted…to forgive them.” He swallowed, somewhat painfully. “To forgive humanity, when you told me. To forgive…everyone.”
Because that is what he had always done. That was what he had fought for. That was what he had died for. Forgiveness. A second chance. But—
“I no longer know if I can believe that they deserve it,” he whispered, half to himself.
These were the humans who killed children—who murdered those like Tiir. Who made Tiir’s life a living nightmare.
And for the first time in his life, Minato’s faith had been shaken. Perhaps it wasn’t a surprise, then, that the tears spilled over and ran down his face—but he seemed surprised nonetheless, reaching a hand up slowly to touch one wet cheek, almost marveling.
…How strange.
(Inability to bring something to a satisfactory end. The World—in reverse.)
He looked up at Tiir and a quiet ‘heh’ left his lips, even as the tears didn’t stop, and he said simply, “I think it’s my turn to beg for forgiveness.”
For so many things. And for once, the messiah was unsure if he even truly deserved such a consideration.