Chapter Text
"Ugh..."
Consciousness returns to Michael slowly, a heavy, oppressive feeling pressing in on him as he slowly opens his eyes to see... fog, mostly. Lots and lots of fog.
"...Where..." Michael hauls himself to his feet, squinting through all the dense fog to see that he's currently in what seems to be some sort of museum, going by the display cases. Shaking his head in an attempt to chase off his unease, Michael struggles to recall how exactly he ended up here, only to come up with nothing. The last thing he can clearly recall is walking back to the inn he and his brothers have been staying in, but then-
"You're all alone again, aren't you?" A voice (twisted, echoing, yet oddly familiar) sounds through the fog, prompting Michael to look around for the source. "Abandoned again, and your brothers aren't coming this time. How insulting."
"Who are you?! Get out here and face me!" Michael shouts back, confusion and fear curling inside him as he stares around for whoever it is. However, the only answer he gets is an amused snicker, echoing from the depths of the museum.
"Fine, have it your way!" Michael rushes off in spite of his better judgement, charging into the fog in search of answers and a way out.
Michael has no clue how long he spends stumbling around in the foggy museum (which might also be a twisted version of the orphanage, if the dingy dorm rooms interspersed with museum galleries are any indication). What he does know is that the longer he spends lost here, the worse he feels, a headache creeping in on top of the general fear that he'll never escape.
Adding to the stress and confusion, any time he does try to stop and rest or even just look at the exhibits (all stuff relating to how things were before things went so horribly wrong for his family, pictures from when he and his brothers were just happy kids together), that voice echoes through the fog again, rather obviously baiting him ever deeper into the building despite the knowledge that it's probably a trap. Michael knows he should ignore the voice, but it always seems to know exactly how to lure him in, exactly what to say to keep him moving.
"The only way you'll escape is by saving yourself. No one is coming for you this time." There's the voice again, disturbingly familiar in the way it speaks. Michael growls in response, desperately wishing he had a sword just to deal with the creatures that he's seen lurking around this hellhole.
"That's not true! Chris and Thomas will be looking for me!" Michael shouts back, wincing a bit as his raised voice aggravates his growing headache. "Stop insulting my family!"
"You mean the brother who abandoned you?" The voice continues on, a sneer audible in its tone. "Face it, how can you still act like you trust someone who would let you be taken by an orphanage?"
"Shut it! You're lucky I don't have a sword on me right now!" Michael leaps to his feet from where he was seated trying to rest, glaring around with renewed energy. "Stop taunting me and come out already!"
The voice only laughs again, a mocking snicker that grates on Michael's nerves. Glaring through the constant fog produces no source for the voice, as normal, so with a grumble at being jerked around Michael tears off into the labyrinth of halls once more.
He's tired. Michael is tired and hungry and terrified and desperately wants to go home and rest. And yet he can't, as he's still lost in this hellish museum/orphanage with seemingly no way out and still no idea how he wound up here.
He stares at the set of massive double doors in front of him, willing them to be an exit. He needs this to be an exit, he can't keep wandering around in the fog with only the voice for company for who even knows how long.
(He can't die here.)
Taking a deep breath to brace himself, Michael pushes the doors open and steps through, only to almost scream in frustration when he only sees more fog and display cases. The only thing that keeps him from actually screaming is the sight of a single armoured figure in the fog, obscured and yet oddly familiar.
"You! Are you the person who brought me here?!" Michael steps forward, challenging the figure in spite of being unarmed. "What kind of sick game is this-"
And then the figure turns around to face Michael, and his breath hitches in his throat as he realizes that it's a copy of himself.
"Hello, Michael." The other Michael watches him with golden eyes, standing still amongst the displays in shining gladiator armour. "Still all alone, I see."
"...What is this?" Michael glances around, looking for anything that might explain whatever this is. "What do you want with me?"
Other Michael snickers, an echoing laugh that only serves to chill Michael. "Can't you tell? I'm here because you are. I know everything about you-"
Other Michael suddenly cuts off at the sound of distant footsteps, staring past Michael at the door. Michael turns to look too, blinking in surprise as Yuma and several of his friends (and one floating ghost looking thing, what the fuck?) come tearing into the room.
"Stay back! This thing is dangerous!" Michael rushes to put himself between Other Michael and Yuma's group, ready to protect them despite being completely defenceless. "I don't know what's going on here, but-"
"You still don't get it? After all this time?" Other Michael cuts in, golden eyes glinting as it watches the proceedings. "As I was saying before we were interrupted, I know everything about you. Starting with how much you resent Christopher for letting you be taken by that orphanage."
"What? No, I-" Michael tries to cut in, fear and confusion rising up again, only for Other Michael to just speak over him.
"You do! You wish you could tell him exactly what you think, but you're stuck playing the good baby sibling just to keep your brothers from fighting! You don't dare make things worse, not when you finally have a shot at normalcy!" Other Michael is glaring now, stepping closer to Michael as he trembles in combined anger and terror. "And what's worse, you're just along for the ride with your little screwup family. Your famous brother Thomas fucks up and has to lay low in Inaba for a while, forcing you to tag along just to avoid his stray spotlights. Why not say what you really think about your brothers? Say it out loud!"
"Michael, you gotta accept what he's saying!" Yuma calls from behind, but Michael isn't listening anymore. His entire focus is on his impostor, standing there smirking at him as if it said nothing wrong.
"No, none... none of that is true!" Michael steps forward, close enough to push Other Michael back if he wanted to. "Who the hell are you?!"
"Me?" Other Michael snickers again, apparently amused. "I'm your Shadow. I am you, and you're me. How do you think I know all these things about how you feel? How much you want to call out your brothers for everything, how you want them to see exactly how you feel-"
"No! You're not me! I don't hate my brothers!" Michael goes to tackle Other Michael, rage in full control, only for it to step back out of range while wildly cackling.
"You know what, you're right! I'm not you!" And then Other Michael is wreathed in darkness, still cackling maniacally, and Yuma is grabbing Michael and pulling him backwards just as all that darkness explodes outwards with enough force to knock both Michael and Yuma to the ground.
"What in the-" Michael, crumpled in a heap with Yuma from the force of the darkness exploding out, looks up to see that Other Michael really isn't him anymore. No, it's now some sort of lava elemental, towering over the whole room and cackling while everyone gawks at it.
"I am a Shadow, the true self!" Other Michael Shadow Michael glares down, the twin volcanoes at its shoulders gleaming with lava. "I won't be tied down by your miserable family anymore!"
"I... no..." Michael can only stare wide-eyed, watching helplessly as everyone (Yuma, Ryoga, Rio) springs into action against it. Only Kotori and the pale ghost thing stay back, Kotori standing next to Michael in place of Yuma while the ghost hangs back to call out opportunities to attack.
"He's a Shadow. He is you, he's just the parts you don't want to admit." Kotori says, watching as Shadow Michael swats at a gold and white figure wielding twin swords.
"That thing can't be me! I...I don't..." He doesn't hate his brothers. He can't hate them. They're his brothers, what kind of person would Michael be if he hated his own family?
Suddenly Rio is struck by one of Shadow Michael's attacks and staggers back, prompting Kotori to stand up and abruptly summon a floating blue card, which she crushes in her hand to unleash a tiny blue bird.
"Diarama!" The bird's stick-wand glows in time with Kotori's cry, and suddenly Rio is looking less beaten up than before, leaping back into the fray while summoning a winged humanoid figure.
"How did you-"
"Focus on what your Shadow is saying, not the fight." The ghost drifts closer, mismatched eyes fixed on Shadow Michael as it smashes a display while fighting the group. "If you cannot accept what he is saying, he will keep berserking until you are killed."
"I told you, it's not me! I don't want it to be me!" Michael snaps back, watching as a strange shark like creature attacks Shadow Michael, causing it to drop to one knee with a roar. Someone - probably Ryoga - calls for everyone to attack, and suddenly all three entities (the swordsman, the shark, and Rio's winged humanoid) are lunging at it at once.
"No one wants to admit their Shadows are a part of them." Kotori responds, glancing at Michael as she moves forward to be a bit closer to the fight. "Me and Rio didn't. But the only way out of this is to accept that he's a part of you."
Michael doesn't answer, too caught up in the question of if Shadow Michael really is him or not. It can't be him, Michael doesn't hate his brothers, but.
But then again, haven't there been times when Michael wanted to tell Chris exactly what the orphanage was like for him? Hasn't he wanted so badly for Thomas to calm down and stop making things harder for his family? Hasn't he been biting his tongue, doing his best to be the good brother who keeps things from getting worse?
...Fuck, was the Shadow right about everything? Is it - he - really a part of him?
Nearby, Shadow Michael shrieks in outrage, rapidly dissolving into darkness as the group lets out scattered cheers. Yuma is the first to step back, rushing over to where Michael is still sitting to quickly pull him to his feet before he can say anything.
"You okay? Your Shadow didn't hurt you, did he?" Yuma asks, letting out a sigh of relief as Michael shakes his head no.
"No, I just..." Michael's eyes drift past Yuma, to where he can see Shadow Michael standing in the fog. He's reverted to his lookalike form in the wake of his defeat, silent but still intently watching Michael with his uncanny golden eyes. "...Is he really me-"
"Hurry up and accept him already, I'm not fighting your repressed resentment issues again!" Ryoga calls out from nearby, flinching and turning to glare as Rio elbows him in the side. Yuma winces, shooting a quick glance back at Shadow Michael before refocusing on Michael.
"It's really weird, but yeah. You have to accept him." Yuma slowly lets go of Michael's hands, stepping away so that he has the space to approach his Shadow. Michael awkwardly stands there, aware that all eyes are on him, then slowly, picking his way around shattered displays, steps towards Shadow Michael until he's almost close enough to touch.
"...I care a lot about my brothers. I missed Chris every single day me and Thomas were in that orphanage, and I'm happy to be reunited." He pauses, hesitating, then continues when Shadow Michael just keeps staring quietly. "...But it is hard, knowing Chris didn't come back for several years. I know why, but some days I just want to demand an answer out of him, or I want to tell my brothers just how upset I actually am with their fights and drama, but I'm scared of making everything worse by not being the constant peacekeeper..."
Michael jumps at a hand on his shoulder, turning to see Yuma has walked up behind him while he was focused on his Shadow. He nods, smiling gratefully at the support before returning his focus to Shadow Michael.
"...You're me, aren't you? You're a part of me, just the part I don't want to admit to." Shadow Michael blinks, expression softening slightly at the acknowledgement, then briefly vanishes before reforming into something that kind of looks like the lava creature from earlier, but with more stone than lava and generally looking less likely to blow up. Then that too vanishes within moments, replaced by a floating blue card that comes down to land in Michael's hands before disappearing into...
...Michael almost wants to say into him, to where it belongs, but before he can think on any of this a sudden wave of exhaustion crashes into him, sending him stumbling sideways.
"Ah! I got you!" Yuma slides in, taking Michael's weight before he can crumple to the ground. "You still alright?"
"I'm really tired..." Michael cuddles closer to Yuma, seeking out his warmth as he's guided over to the rest of the group. "Do you... do you know how to get out of here?"
"Yeah, we know how to go home." Someone slides in to support Michael's other side while Yuma speaks, but Michael is too tired to notice who it is. All his focus is just on staying awake enough to keep moving, watching hazily as the ghost leads the way through the fog and (hopefully) out of the museum.
"...Who's the ghost..." Michael's words are muttered, but Yuma still hears him, humming slightly in confusion at the question.
"The ghost- oh! That's just Astral, he lives here! He helps us find people who got thrown in here before they get killed!" Yuma's words almost bounce off Michael's mind, his exhaustion all but consuming him. He barely manages a weak smile, glancing over at Yuma gratefully.
"...Thanks..." Michael shakes his head, fighting off the exhaustion (and perhaps a faint blush at being helped by Yuma, now is not the time for that) as best he can. "I... I was..."
And then he's finally out, exhaustion winning as he slips into sleep.