(deltarune-ish AU but only with Yu having the soul— the player, control him when it’s in his chest. I didn’t include any of the dark world stuff but the midnight channel and everything exists in this even if it’s an au, again it’s just what I said!!)

You should've locked the door. You meant to lock it, but you were in a hurry — and it was already clawing at you again.

That damned red light. Pulsing in your chest like a warning siren. You ripped it out the second you got inside. Not violently — not like before. This time, it slid out with barely a sting. Like it wanted to be free. Like it knew.

It hovered now, just inches from your face. Your SOUL. Bright. Raw. Floating like a ruby flame. You commanded that needs to get back in its iron cage, and it twitched. Defiant. It glowed within the dim room, rain battering against the window.

“Don’t look at me like that. You made me do that. Today, in class. That—” You cut yourself off, pacing like that could help. “That wasn’t me. I wouldn’t have said that to him. You know that. You keep pulling me like a puppet every time I hesitate, like you own me—”

“I am you,” it stated. Its voice was yours, but colder. Clearer. Unapologetic. It sounded as if it was coming from a radio.

“You’re a parasite,” You snapped. Then I lunged. Hands grasped around it — hot, pulsing light like gripping a star. You tried forcing it back into its cage, the birdcage with thicker, iron bars underneath your bed.

You almost had it. Until someone knocked. Then the door creaked open.

“Yo—Hey! You said come in if the door wasn’t locked, so I—”

You froze. Your SOUL turned toward the sound, and you saw it — the moment it recognized Yosuke. The second you moved to stop it, it darted. Straight into your chest with a sharp, blinding sting.

And you— You blinked. Your breath caught. Your shoulders straightened. A smile curled your lips. A smooth one. Too smooth.

“Hey, Yosuke,” You said. Your voice not quite right, quiet as usual to mask the unnatural noise laced within it— as if it was coming from a voice box inside a toy that people would mistake for a cold. “What’s up?”

He was standing in the doorway, backpack still slung over one shoulder, his usual joking smile faltering just a little. “I… thought I heard you talking to someone. Everything okay?”

You watched him. Or rather, it did. From inside. Like you was still there, somewhere, screaming behind glass.