Futaba Sakura: On Autism in Persona 5

     Too many people, too many sounds and sensations, too many expectations. The stale, sickening scent of decades' worth of cigarette smoke oozing from the carpets and wallpaper. Laughter and forced conversations between my husband's co-workers and senseless chatter all blurring together over blaring holiday music.

    I don't remember if I even made it into the event hall. All I remember is that entry way and all the people passing by me, the smell of snow and ice and rock salt on their shoes, while I sat slumped on the floor in hysterics. Not sobs, not subtle tears. Hysterical crying, like a toddler denied a new toy. A spectacle.

    A few strangers asked if I was ok but walked away when they realized I was incapable of answering. A few people who'd already had too much to drink tried to hug me or pull me towards the party, only making me recoil at their touch. My husband and my friend, Jason-- who I'd only just met at the time-- took turns coming out to check on me, console me, offer me an escape...until I finally agreed.

    I remember driving home with them both. I remember feeling as if I had failed them both. My husband-- because we could never go anywhere without me involuntarily making a scene. Jason-- because we had only been friends for a couple months, and I was afraid that friendship would abruptly end after he saw the true extent of my social anxiety, that he'd realize there was no future with me. Neither of them were disappointed in me-- just concerned, just glad to see the terror fade away on the ride home.

    That was years ago, but it all felt fresh to me again when I saw how Futaba Sakura reacted to being alone in a crowded electronics store in Akihabara while playing Persona 5. Her fear of the crowd and the noise, her inability to speak or move, the way the customers and even the police acted as if she was some kind of threat, how she found comfort in Joker-- sheepishly hiding behind him.

    It all felt strikingly similar.

    I know exactly what it feels like to be in that situation, paralyzed by over-stimulation and fear, looks of disgust staring me down. I know what it's like to have everyday situations trigger a stress response, and the only two in my arsenal are freeze and fawn. I live that situation frequently; the Christmas party was hardly the first or last time it's happened. During the scene in Akihabara, I saw in Futaba the disconnect from the world I've only recently come to understand in myself-- the same disconnect Jason sees in us both when he recommended the game to me on the grounds that Futaba reminded him of me. And that "disconnect" has a name: autism spectrum disorder.
    While there is no official confirmation of an ASD diagnosis, Futaba displays multiple autistic traits including misophonia (hence the headphones), impaired social skills, hyper-fixation on special skills and interests, and generalized anxiety resulting in meltdown behavior. In a world where autistic characters are becoming more common but often miss the mark and end up as caricatures, Futaba is actually an excellent representation of an autistic girl with low support needs, not unlike myself. Nothing about her is out of line for a girl or woman on the autism spectrum. Unfortunately, so little reliable information exists about the presentation of ASD in the female population, that a lot of people seem to think people like Futaba don't really exist, that she is a caricature.
    Both Futaba and I fall into the category of high intelligence but emotionally and socially stunted, as if we never evolved past childhood in those areas of development. Many women on the spectrum fit this description, and we're often labeled as "forever 12," referring to social skills dropping off at the beginning of adolescence and our interests tending to revolve around things considered juvenile. We tend to blend in well enough up to that point and then use "masking" skills to hide our autistic traits after that, mimicking expected behavior. It's only when we become overwhelmed or overstimulated that you see behavior like Futaba displayed in Akihabara or like me at that Christmas party. But just because we can effectively perform normalcy doesn't mean we don't exist or that our atypical behaviors can't be explained by autism, and even the Phantom Thieves have to learn this through their interactions with Futaba.
    Post change of heart, the Phantom Thieves attempt to bring Futaba's social skills up to par, but most of their attempts fail and, thanks to some unsolicited artistic advice from Yusuke, they come to realize they need to meet Futaba at her level rather than the other way around. They accept her for who she is while supporting her in her own willful attempts to partake in activities outside her comfort zone. The Phantom Thieves, along with Futaba's father, Sojiro, all come to understand one of the most important things to know about autistic individuals: we don't habituate to overwhelming stimuli. Futaba can find ways to cope when she goes into a crowded store, but she will never be comfortable there, no matter how many times she exposes herself to the situation. So, they all find ways to help her cope, most notably Joker, who continues to allow her to lean on him in social situations, never setting forth the expectation that she will become comfortable going into public on her own.
    In reality, that level of understanding just isn't there, thus explaining the people who saw me crying in a hallway and tried to force me into the party anyway. I find that most people mean well but lack knowledge of what autism really looks like despite the recent push for "autism awareness." And some don't want to learn. And others still believe autism is simply the diagnostic flavor of the month. For those people, Futaba and I will never exist; our odd behaviors are instead a result of bad parenting or a sense of entitlement.
    But, just like Futaba and the friends she finds in the Phantom Thieves, I've found a precious few individuals who have taken the time to understand me and how best to support me: my husband gladly handles social situations I cannot bear or helps me find ways to get through the difficult tasks I cannot hand off to him, while Jason acts much like my own Joker, allowing me to always stay near and hide behind him when we go out together (we even have the appropriate striking height difference!).
    It's my hope that characters like Futaba, who accurately represent life on the spectrum, will become more commonplace. With more representation comes more understanding and validation, and that's why seeing someone like her in a game series as popular as Persona is so important. Right now, there is lack of understanding hiding beneath a heap of misinformation, particularly about girls and women with ASD, and so we're forced to pretend to be something we're not. Our behaviors become classified as problematic but without clinical explanation; we're defiant, we're sensitive, we're promiscuous, we're unfriendly. But all that can change.
    Futaba presents some very uncomfortable truths concerning life as a person on the autism spectrum. She shows players how difficult seemingly mundane tasks like going shopping or even attending school can be for someone like her. Just the same, her friends show us how understanding and support can make those challenges a bit easier to confront. If that kind of representation continues, that could mean the difference between someone seeing me crying outside a party and sitting quietly with me as opposed physically intervening, trying to force me into a situation that will cause me pain. Accurate representation in media matters so we can better understand those who are different from us. As far as autistic representation goes, I personally feel as though Futaba's story paints an accurate portrait that others can learn from, if they're willing to accept her the same way the Phantom Thieves do.