[ It's hard to say in the moment what catches her attention in the chaos. Gojo's cry, the movement of someone whose balance has definitely been compromised, some other sense that she would be delighted to claim is something like feminine intuition at a much later date--
Whatever it is, Haru sees it. And for a split second, it seems impossible, doesn't it? She couldn't stop people from being bitten. Couldn't fend off a zombie bear. Couldn't talk Soujuurou or Mark out of their choices. Couldn't stay back. Couldn't convey her thoughts without accidentally cruel implications.
Gojo's already falling. She's too late.
Except that split second is only 0.5% percent of Haru right now. The 99.5% remaining is already running, ignoring the twinge of still-healing wounds. The axe clatters off to the side and she lunges, leaps, feet leaving the stability (questionable) of the ground, one hand outstretched to grasp Gojo's hand and the other flung out behind her. ]
Lucy!!
[ She's never thought to use her Persona like this before. She's not sure if it's possible. But it's her spirit of rebellion and she's using it to rebel against the idea of standing there and losing another one of their number. Milady's fan had caught an attack before. Solidified, long enough. And if Makoto could wield hers so uniquely--
It's a gamble, but she knows it's paid off when the ballgown and trenchcoat-wearing Persona's hand grasps hers, a sudden force that prompts a stifled shriek of pain when the strength and speed of the grab promptly dislocates her shoulder. It means she's got a death grip on Gojo's one hand, at least, as they dangle there for a few seconds and then Lucy yanks back and unceremoniously flings them back onto the bridge.
It's not the most gentle of landings. But it's also not the ocean. ]
b
Whatever it is, Haru sees it. And for a split second, it seems impossible, doesn't it? She couldn't stop people from being bitten. Couldn't fend off a zombie bear. Couldn't talk Soujuurou or Mark out of their choices. Couldn't stay back. Couldn't convey her thoughts without accidentally cruel implications.
Gojo's already falling. She's too late.
Except that split second is only 0.5% percent of Haru right now. The 99.5% remaining is already running, ignoring the twinge of still-healing wounds. The axe clatters off to the side and she lunges, leaps, feet leaving the stability (questionable) of the ground, one hand outstretched to grasp Gojo's hand and the other flung out behind her. ]
Lucy!!
[ She's never thought to use her Persona like this before. She's not sure if it's possible. But it's her spirit of rebellion and she's using it to rebel against the idea of standing there and losing another one of their number. Milady's fan had caught an attack before. Solidified, long enough. And if Makoto could wield hers so uniquely--
It's a gamble, but she knows it's paid off when the ballgown and trenchcoat-wearing Persona's hand grasps hers, a sudden force that prompts a stifled shriek of pain when the strength and speed of the grab promptly dislocates her shoulder. It means she's got a death grip on Gojo's one hand, at least, as they dangle there for a few seconds and then Lucy yanks back and unceremoniously flings them back onto the bridge.
It's not the most gentle of landings. But it's also not the ocean. ]