Author's Note: So I've been wanting to write this ever since I started playing Minato's side of the story on P3P (I've never played a Persona game before) but I've finally gotten around to it. I'm trying to have a chapter or two written in advance when I update, but I don't know how well that'll go; I'm also playing Persona 4 when I get back home – I'm on vacation at the moment – and I do have a sequel to this planned that takes in Persona 4. But… it's really far off. And vague.

Anyway, I tried to put a little original spin onto "Minako", such as… well, you'll see. Her name here stays as Minako, but she is referred to and refers to herself as Isabella for reasons explained later. I'm trying not to make her a Mary-Sue, but I'm following the responses the game gives you which I think will fit her character best out of all of them.

Also, I plan to change things around here and there, like adding more dialogue between the characters and small little scenes (in the beginning at least; who knows what I have planned for later on!) but this won't be something big that'll veer away from the plot. Most of the game dialogue is from the script as I'm playing through, seeing as how I can't find any script online.

This won't be too romance focused, but obviously there will be romance… I just wanted to try doing something that focuses more on her character that what guys she hooks in and whatnot.

Also, England is a really convenient place. I read somewhere that a lot of MCs that come from America are referred to as "Mary-Sues", so… plus, it kind of plays into the story. I don't think I've seen any Grandmothers like the one below in America, but my friend does have one like this and it's kind of really funny to hear about.

Onto the story, I guess! Please review! :)

Disclaimer: Persona belongs to Atlus. I don't own anything… but I'd love to own Ryoji…

Chapter One

The dream always starts out the same.

I'm sitting in my mother's garden, rolling a red rubber ball around on the ground. I'm small and young; maybe six, seven years old. The warm Japanese sun beats down on my shoulders, basking me in light, and the lazy traffic of Iwatodai lulls me into a quiet serenity from somewhere beyond the grounds. Unsurprisingly, my grip slips on the toy and it begins to roll away, coming to a stop under a large oak tree.

There's a boy standing there.

I begin to run towards him, wanting to get my toy back, and he looks up at me with the ball in his hand. He straightens, and somehow I know he's smiling.

"Let's play together," his lips move, but no sound comes out. I've been in this place so many times that I know the dialogue by heart. He offers me his hand, the ball lying in the palm stretched out before me. I watch, detached, as my younger self bites her lower lip in uncertainty, paying no attention to the butterfly landing on her shoulder. Its wings brush ever so gently against her(our) cheek as it flutters to a stop, and she(we) smile.

"…Okay," I say, reaching out to grasp his hand with mine. A sudden rush of giddiness washes over me as he pulls me into the shade by his side, and we both begin to laugh at the sudden feeling. Neither one of us stops as he begins to spin me around and around until I'm dizzy, until the butterfly on my shoulder has grown so disgruntled that it twitches its wings and lifts off. I follow it with my eyes, lightheaded, as it flies towards the sun – for the briefest of moments, it flashes a bright blue in the summer air and everything stops.

A voice seems to murmur to me, from nowhere and everywhere at once, the barest hint of a breath touching my cheek.

"time never waits… it delivers all equally to the same end." It seems almost amused as ghost hands embrace me from behind, a chin settling at the crook between my neck and right shoulder. I'm no longer seven but seventeen, clasping the boy's hand with a too-tight grip in my own. Don't go I want to say, but I can only watch as he crumbles and fades into dust; a pile of sand on the dark earth below. I turn my gaze to the red rubber ball I'm now left holding.

There is an eye there, large and ominous, and it's both an eye and a lipless mouth. Oddly enough, it makes me think of the moon hanging low in the sky, surrounded by green smog.

It opens, its voice raspy, and says – "you, who wish to safeguard the future, however limited it may be…" It focuses on me, judging. I stay still, bound by invisible chains. "go forth without falter, with your heart as your guide."

The phantom hands begin to pull me back to the land of the awake, and I don't hear the voice's continuing whisper as the ball tumbles from my fingers and onto the ground. I'm now nothing but the Earth and the sky, the particles in the grass and in the air. No eyes, no ears, just the sense of existence.

"you will be given one year…"

My dream landscape fades into solid ink.

"…todai… Iwatodai…"

I jerk awake as the train turns, and gaze around at the metal walls of Anehazuru as we shudder along the train tracks. The sky is dark outside the windows but lit up by the lights of the city, masking the stars overhead. A man in a business suit spares me a glance before turning a page of his newspaper, and I manage to catch the bold headline before it disappears—

COUNT OF COMA CASES INCREASES TO OVER A HUNDRED

I dig around in my bag for a pack of gum as I mull this over – finally finding it, I pop one piece in my mouth and begin to chew. I remember my Grandmother mentioning this several times as I was preparing to leave, warning me – ordering me, really – to be careful and not catch whatever it was going around this place.

"Due to a malfunction in the switching system, today's rail schedule has been greatly altered. We apologize to any customers who were in a hurry. The next stop is Iwatodai…Iwatodai."

I hadn't realized that the message that had awoken me was still being announced. I glance at my cell phone, clutched loosely in my left hand, and bite back a sigh at the time flashing there. I hope no one at the Dorm was going to be mad at me – that is, if someone even bothered to stay up and wait. I doubted it; they were, after all, students. Sleep was sometimes hard to come by, especially in a private school like Gekkoukan High.

My mind flashes to the pamphlet that lies folded and creased many times over in the pocket of my skirt. I've read it so many times that I almost know the texts and maps by heart – "This is bad news, Isabella," my Grandmother had said, shaking her head when the envelope arrived. "That place holds nothing but bad memories… and futures."

I shake off her words, thinking – no, knowing – that she's wrong. No matter what happened on the Moonlight Bridge on a green night long ago, Iwatodai was a home to me. Perhaps moreso that Grandmother's own house, where I had spent the last ten years growing up. Dreams of this small city continued to plague my sleep ever since I stepped foot outside the hospital, walking in the direction of nowhere.

Or my Grandmother's car. Both were relatively the same to me, with Grandmother's spotless rooms and disappointed frowns and "Isabella, for God's sake, you will never find a husband this way."

I bite at my lip, hard, warding off her last words to me as I left for the train station. You'll see, she had said, voice confident and grave, her eyes gazing into mine. We both had eyes the color of dark cherry wine, swirling into endless depths. It was hard to believe my Mother was raised by her. You'll come back here in a year, girl, sniveling onto my doorstep.

With a great sigh, I lean my head back onto the seat and gaze at the ceiling overhead.

"This is definitely not Manchester anymore," I murmur to the cool air, almost wishing for the butterfly to take me back to my dreams. The sun is always shining there, and even though I can never leave the garden with the oak tree, it feels like home.

The next time I wake up, I have not dreamt. The train is no longer moving, beeping instead as the doors open and the few people in my compartment gather their belongings and leave. I heft my bag higher onto my shoulder, glancing at my phone as I do so – the numbers flash at me, 11:59 P.M, and something like nervousness passes through me. Gathering all the courage I have, I step outside the train and into the station.

It is well lit, several people milling around in the late of the night. A voice is going through the speakers, metallic and feminine.

"This is the final train bound for Tatsumi Port Island. Please take care to board before—"

A quiet alarm beeps from my phone, and the message cuts off. The lights overhead and on the terminals fade out, not one by one but instantaneously, enfolding this place in darkness. I take a glance around as my eyes adjust to the darkness, and sure enough, there are maroon wood coffins standing where the people just were. Disappointment passes over me, but, well, what else had I expected?

I use the light of my phone to navigate through the dark building, taking a mental note to email Matthew and assure him his modifications worked just fine. It takes a few minutes for me to find the exit, since even such a small city has a fairly sized train station. When I step outside, the world is painted a familiar shade of murky green and red. There's a slight odor in the air, but I have never been able to place it with anything I have ever smelt before. Rows of coffins upon coffins line the streets and red liquid trails down where the sidewalks meet the road, shining under the light of the yellow moon.

I glance up to the eye of a moon staring at me from the sky, large and menacing, and am reminded of the rubber ball and the butterfly.

Go forth without falter with your heart as your guide, I remember. Too bad that my heart is screaming for me run straight for the Dorm and huddle safely underneath the blankets.

Unfortunately for my heart, I'm never one to follow what it's telling me. If I did, I'd be as dead as my brother and parents are, hunched over underneath scraps of metal and fire.

Deciding that whoever is at the Dorm can wait – it's not like any time is passing for them right now, anyway – I decide to head out and explore. My walk brings me to the Iwatodai Strip Mall, and I let myself linger before it, trying to gather memories. My brother and I loved to eat at Wild Duck Burger – Mom never let us eat the takoyaki – there wasn't a book store here before – the manga store has gotten even bigger, if possible – the sweet shop has some of the best chocolate cake around.

A shift in the surroundings to my left brings me back to reality and I tense, cursing myself for forgetting to take out my gun. Just because this place is home, it doesn't mean it's any safer, I think, slowly reaching into my bag for where the gun lies in one of the camouflaged pockets. I exchange my phone for it, and once it's in my hands, I click off the safety and turn in the direction of the feeling of disturbance.

"Who's there?" I call out, heart beating wild no matter how many times Matt and I have gone over this – there was almost never any need to defend ourselves back in England, but Japan may be completely different. Maybe it's because the moon looks a little bigger, a little yellower, a little more dangerous.

Matthew and I had poured over endless pages of information – myths, facts, end of the world stories – but there had been nothing to explain the strange occurrence of the world hidden between one hour and the next. I had converted it to the Japanese timezone here before arriving, and it being midnight nagged something at me; maybe Matthew would find this small tidbit of information useful.

There's the sound of shuffling feet in the darkness, and a human sized shape emerges at last. I relax a little, surprised at seeing someone awake during this; as far as I know, Matt and I had rarely run into someone in all our years of exploration.

"You can put that down now," the voice grouches, male and low, a little gruff from either trying to sound badass, or continuous use of cigarettes. I snort, gun trained on the man, glad that he's so large I almost won't miss.

"I'm not an idiot," I reply back, hoping to God that he doesn't notice how much my arms are shaking.

Said man chuckles. "I'm unarmed, see?" He holds up both his hands, and in the minimum light I can see he's not holding anything.

"Doesn't mean you're not hiding anything underneath that coat of yours." Indeed, the guy is wearing a bulky, maroon coat, covering him from his neck to past his thighs. There's a beanie on top of his dark hair, and as clouds pass by the moon, I catch that he's smiling.

"And do you really think you'll be able to shoot me?" He asks, amused, and with great reluctance, I lower the gun. I let it be by my side just in case he makes any sudden movements.

The moon serves better than any lamppost that stands here, useless, and I can see that he's not as old as I pegged him to be – tanned skin, dark pants, brown hair and dark eyes. Said eyes are focused on me, and I step back just the tiniest bit.

Oh, come on, the guy just screams "THUG".

He rolls his eyes at me. "You shouldn't be walking around here," he grouches, taking a few steps towards me with his hands now in his pockets. I move back even farther, raising the gun a few inches. He stops, his mouth tugging into something like a smirk. "Well, at least you're not an idiot," he mutters, low enough that I shouldn't have been able to hear him, but it's so quiet here without people or traffic or wind, that I could have heard him from the second level of the mall.

"I'm flattered," I bite back, nervous. The first time I have to run into someone else awake during this, and it has to be someone who probably spends his days skipping school and smoking pot in the back alley of the train station.

The guy's smirk turns into a frown. "But seriously, get out of here. That thing you're holding in your hand won't be any good if you get attacked by one of the locals around here." I let the gun drop even further, a bit surprised. Besides, if the guy was going to mug me, he'd have done it already, right?

"Do you mean the Monsters?"

His eyes narrow just the tiniest bit at my question. "How do you know about those?"

It's my turn to stare at him like he's from some other planet. Hello, this is planet Neptune, calling all freaks back to their home planet. Do you read me? "Excuse me, but you were the one to refer to them just now. It's not like a boogey monster is going to pop out of one of these coffins and attack me."

Thug Guy-slash-Asshole scoffs. "Whatever. You should get somewhere safe before they find you."

I can't help but roll my eyes at this. I didn't survive ten years of wandering around surrounded by smog and blood and not learn anything. "I'm flattered that you're worrying about me, really, I am." My sarcasm must be as good as ever, because it looks like he's getting pissed. "But just for your information, this thing will work on anything that tries to leap out at me. Including creepers who come out of back alleys in the middle of the night." I eye him, gauging to see if he's going to do anything about my words. Curse me and my jetlag – my stupidity will have me end up dead in a ditch somewhere, someday.

"Say what you want, kid," he scowls, sounding a bit offended. "Go on, scram. There's nothing for you to do here."

Actually, I almost say, I was having a grand time reminiscing before you came and interrupted me. But he doesn't need to know this. So instead I decide to follow his words and begin to walk in the direction of the Dorm without another word. I can hear the guy behind me scoff again, muttering something like brat or bitch under his breath, before his footsteps, too, fade into the night. In the completely opposite direction of me. Good.

There's just the tiniest bit of a brush against my arms, and I am reminded to keep an eye out on the Monsters. They had avoided us for the most part back home, but you never know what could happen here. Something like a voice – garbled and faint, with bubbles in its throat, coming from underwater – sounds in my mind and I know by now that there is no way for me to decipher it. Save for throwing myself headfirst into the path of a speeding car, but I wasn't ready to lose my life or risk ending up at the hospital just to understand what this thing in my head wanted to tell me.

Matt and I had started to feel these twinges – these mutters – a few years into meeting each other, starting from the day when we were almost devoured by an especially large Monster. There was a loud cry from somewhere, sounding neither man or beast, and then a bright flash of light and the whoosh of air – when the night cleared, there was nothing left on the spot.

I keep my gun near me and wonder for the millionth time this night just when Matt would decide to get his ass in gear and call me. Here I was, returning to the (almost) scene of my parents' deaths, and my best friend was nowhere to be found.

Okay, so I'm just being a little over dramatic. But Matt had promised.

It's another few minutes of walking between coffins and piles of blood before I turn into a street and see the large building towering overhead – once I step closer, I can make out "KIRIJO" in small letters on a plaque attached by the door. I look at it in curiosity, but their corporation had built this school, after all.

The Dorm, from outside, looks like a lighthouse in the night, every window of it lit up with a yellow glow - but when the door opens under my grip and I step in, the sickly glow of the moon illuminates the lobby through the large windows. From what I can see in the minimum light, the room is large and has several couches, a dining table further back, and what looks like several desks. There is no one here.

"You're late." I turn at the sudden voice to the check in counter – scratch that, there is someone here after all. But… it's just a boy, barely coming up to my chest, smiling wide with the brightest shades of blue eyes I have ever seen. "I've been waiting a long time."

Embarrassed, I glance at anywhere but him. My abrupt rush of bitchiness with the guy earlier had left me almost as soon as I heard him disappear. "I'm sorry, there was a problem with the train – I just got here. I know it's late, but…" I trail off when he says nothing, and doesn't even move. I examine him from the corners of my eyes; he's dressed in a striped black and white jumpsuit, looking suitable for prison. I blink. Was there a center for troubled kids somewhere around here?

The boy just shakes his head, his smile still wide and in place, before gesturing to the notebook lying beside him on the counter. Weird, I hadn't noticed it before. "If you want to proceed, then please sign here." I walk over to it, past the motionless boy, and try to make out the text. It's almost impossible in some places.

"What is this?" I ask, wary. The boy just chuckles.

"It's a contract." His voice is young, but his eyes look empty. He pauses, as if thinking something over. "…There's no need to be scared. Really."

I raise both my eyebrows at this, deciding against asking him what he is doing out of a coffin at this time of day. He doesn't look too stable at the moment, or like he'd be happy to provide me with straight answers. "I'm not scared," I reply back, stubborn to the end.

An eyebrow of his mimics mine. "It only binds you to accepting full responsibility for your actions." Something that sounds like a giggle breaks out. "You know…the usual stuff."

His words make sense – from what I've seen and read on the school, these people tend to take everything seriously. I reach for a pen that I also hadn't seen before, glancing down on the paper in front of me.

"I chooseth this fate of mine own free will."

They are even using fancy English. I sign my name on the dotted line with a flourish – Isabella Payne. The boy moves for the first time since we've met, startling me, and grabs the book. It shuts close in his hands and he cradles it to his chest like some sort of precious object.

He looks even happier, if at all possible. "Thank you," He says, smiling at me, his eyes bright against the shadows of the walls. "Time…" He stops, looking at me for several seconds. "…Is something no one can escape. It delivers us all to the same end." The familiar words of the butterfly make me freeze, eyes wide, face pale. His smile stretches even wider, torso lowering in a half bow. "Wishing won't make it go away." The rational side of my brain has time to wonder how he knows of my deepest longing for the time in this hour to freeze for hours, days, years – before he begins to melt into the darkness. Piece by piece, he begins to disappear as if he was never there to begin with, his last words echoing around the room.

"…And so, it begins."

A clatter of footsteps on the staircase makes me jump. Then, a voice – "Who's there!" Well, what do you know, more people awake during this time. Japan sure is a weird place.

A female figure appears before me in a second, clad in a modified pink version of Gekkoukan's uniform, brown eyes staring at me out from a pale face. I notice her fingers shaking, her Adam's apple bobbing in her throat.

"How can you be… but it's…" She's not making any sense, a bead of sweat trickling down from her temple. I take a step forward, mouth open to say something, but she interrupts me.

"Don't tell me…" I notice the pistol at her thigh a moment too late, all the way until it's pointed my way. It's silver from non-use and smaller than from what I've seen, but unfortunately for me, this girl looks all too determined to use it. And she has a clear shot right at me.

I have time to think Well, shit before pointing my own gun straight at her. Pinky doesn't seem to have been expecting this, her eyes widening until I think they're going to pop out of her head and stumbles a few paces back. Now that I come to think of it, with the exception of the gun, she doesn't really look all that well. Her arms are shaking even more than mine were back at the strip mall, and there are beads of sweat collecting at her temple.

I lower my weapon down just the tiniest bit. "H-Hey, are you okay?" To my horror, my voice seems to have startled her even further, because instead of the gun pointing at me, she's now pointing it at herself. What the fuck. No, really, I don't remember Iwatodai being this wacked out before.

"What the hell are you—"

I get cut off before I can even finish by someone else. "TAKEBA, WAIT!"

There's a clatter of heels from the direction of the staircase and a taller woman emerges, her red hair tangled on her back as she rushes towards us. I gotta give her props for running in those boots; she, too, seems to be wearing a version of the school uniform, with a ruffled blouse and grey skirt. I manage to catch a glimpse of a gun holster strapped around her waist as she stops by the other girl and places one hand on her arm, lowering her aim at her forehead.

"That's enough," I catch her mutter to the brunette, before she turns towards me. Her eyes run over my pistol and her shoulders tense, before she nods at me. "You can put that away now," she declares, her voice calm and ordering, and I place the pistol on the counter behind me, pushing it away slightly.

Were these people going to be my dormmates?

The pair seems to relax a bit at this, though the first girl still looks like she might faint at any moment now. "I wasn't expecting you to arrive so late," the redhead addresses me, trying to smile, but I can tell it's not working.

"Is she okay?" I ignore her greeting in favor of direction my worry at her companion. Before either one of them can reply, the Dorm lights turn back on all at the same time, making me wince from the sudden onslaught of light. I glance out one of the windows, and sure enough, the sky is a dark blue littered with pinpricks of stars.

"The lights…" The first girl mutters, her face slack with relief. Redhead places a comforting hand on her shoulder, though I think I can see her fingers tightening just a bit too much.

"She'll be fine," she answers, her posture also visibly relaxing with the end of the hour. I'm glad it's over too, but try not to show it too much. The warm glow of the lamps makes the lobby feel comforting, not anything like it is outside. "My name is Mitsuru Kirijo. I'm one of the students who live in this dorm." Oh, great. I get to live with the heiress of the Kirijo company – that explains the nametag outside – and two gun-crazy students.

Pinky, obviously feeling better and forgetting that she was just trying to shoot herself in front of me, turns her head to gaze up at Mitsuru with a frown. "Who's she?" I guess me witnessing her moment of trying to commit suicide is enough to forget I'm standing right in front of them.

"She's a transfer student," Mitsuru says before I can answer the question myself. "It was a last minute decision to assign her here." She pauses, her eyes looking me over, as if judging. "She'll eventually be moved to a room in the normal dorm."

I raise an eyebrow at this. The shorter girl also looks anxious, her lips thinning into a straight line. "…Is it okay for her to be here?"

"I guess we'll see," the Kirijo heiress smiles, sounding almost like she finds this all funny. I have to bite at my own tongue to keep from biting out something unpleasant. "This is Yukari Takeba." Well, looks like Pinky has a name. I look both of them over, catching the identical red armbands they have on the left arms – I can catch the letters S. E, but the rest is turned away from me. Are they some sort of a club? Maybe each one of them has their own personal handgun they run around with, pointing it at strangers. Or it's a suicide cult. You could never know with high school students.

"She'll be a junior this spring, just like you." I'm guessing that this woman is my senpai, then – that doesn't answer how she got ahold of my transfer files, though. I store the information for later use, and stick out my hand in greeting, smiling.

"Isabella Payne. Nice to meet you." Yukari looks a bit awkward at shaking my hand – don't they bow or something here in Japan? It's been ages since I practiced tradition – but takes it nonetheless.

"…Yukari." She doesn't look too happy to be meeting me, and I turn my attention to Mitsuru.

"Isn't this a normal dorm?" I ask, deciding not to question the guns – after all, my own pistol is lying just behind me.

"Huh!" Some of Yukari's panic from earlier seems to be back, even though I wasn't even talking to her. "Oh, uh… of course it is!" Yes, and I really do come from the planet Neptune.

Mitsuru comes in to save her dormmate's blunder. "…Not quite. This is a co-ed dorm." There go my hopes of finding a space ship in the basement. "There are other differences as well… I'll explain later. It's getting late." Her words make my body remember that it is, indeed, (past) midnight and I haven't been able to get a wink of sleep on the plane. I break out in a yawn and cover it with one hand, which seems to relax the atmosphere around here a little. Yukari moves to stifle her own yawn, but it might be just me. "You'll find your room on the third floor. Your things should also already be there. I suggest you tuck in for the night."

The most sensible sentence I have heard her say this whole entire time. Mitsuru sends Yukari a Look, and the girl starts, as if remembering something.

"Oh… I'll show you the way. Follow me." I remember to grab my gun from the counter, daring Mitsuru to comment on it, but all I can feel is her eyes on my back as we head upstairs. We pass by a large dining table, what looks like an open door to the kitchen, and several study tables on the way to the stairs. The second floor has a smaller lounge with a coffee table and a few couches, as well as soda machines – a hallway stretches out farther in, but it's dark and I assume this the guys' floor.

The third floor is entirely the same, except the lights are lit up here and we walk until we reach the farthest door on the right. My name sits in the plaque on it, written on a piece of paper in feminine script. "Last minute transfer decision", my ass.

"This is it…" Yukari trails off, looking lost for words. All I want is to go in and fall down on the bed, and I'm guessing she wants to do the same. "Pretty easy to remember, huh? …Since it's right at the end of the hall." I crack a smile at her attempt of conversation as she stands there, looking lost.

"So, um… any questions?"

I wrack my brain for any, and decide that the boy in prison clothes seems like a good place to start. "Does that boy live here?" I blurt out, and then curse myself when I realize she might not have seen him with his crazy Houdini trick and whatnot. Maybe he just visits time to time? At midnight?

…Right.

Yukari seems to agree with me, her mouth turning downwards into a frown. "What are you talking about?" She asks, her brows furrowed as she stares at the door behind me. "…C'mon, it's not funny." I wasn't trying to be, but it seems like she hasn't got a clue as to what I'm talking about. Oh well, guess I'll have to look around on my own sometime.

"Um…" I snap out of my thoughts at her voice, and notice that she's still not looking at me. This girl is not suspicious at all, I decide, deciding to humor her. After all, she had to deal with my post-jetlag PMS.

"What's up?"

Her eyes finally find mine. "Can I ask you a question?" I withhold my desire to say, "You already did," and she takes my silence as a 'yes'. "On your way here from the station, was everything okay?"

I raise an eyebrow. Aha! She didn't seem all that surprised by Green Hour earlier, and neither did the other girl. "I ran into a thug, but otherwise, yes." She looks a bit worried, but I wave it off. "It's fine, he didn't do anything."

Yukari looks both relieved and a bit depressed. "Okay, I see… Nevermind, then." She smiles at me for the first time tonight, but it still doesn't look right. Guess I scared her pretty bad; I catch her eyes quickly glancing at the pistol I'm holding, and wince. Definitely scared her too much.

"Well, I'd better get going…" Finally. As much as I appreciate her trying to be friendly – or prying into my life, whichever one it is – I really want a bed to sleep on. Airplane seats can only do so much for you, and train naps barely help.

She hands me a key before walking off with a polite nod, and I'm about to turn it in the doorknob before her footsteps stop and I glance up. She's looking at me, a bit guilty. "Um… I'm sure you still have other questions, but let's save them for later, okay?"

"I just want to get into bed," I joke, smiling to make sure she knows I'm not insulting her, and this time, her smile looks a bit better.

"I agree. Good night." She disappears downstairs – to talk to Mitsuru, maybe? – and finally, finally, I have a chance to enter my new bedroom. The key turns easily in my grasp and I push the door open, letting out a quiet whistle of appreciation at the room. I really, really hope I won't be getting transferred any time soon, 'cause man, this place is like your own hotel suite. Maybe not five stars, but it'll do.

The walls are painted an offshade of cream and there's a hook for my clothes to my left, as well as a mini-fridge, sink and mirror. There's several pink and white towels and a shelf for my toothbrush and the like – a wooden desk sits farther back with some books, a wheeled chair, and a TV set in the corner. I spot my luggage by the bed – as well as some random sports calendar pinned to the wall overhead, to the right of which there are some wooden shelves for my enjoyment – and head over there, throwing my pistol and messenger bag to the side. The gun lands with a thunk on top of it and I all but throw myself onto the blankets, feeling way too lazy to dig around the bags for my pyjamas.

I slip off my shoes and jacket before burrowing under the pink plaid comforter. I begin to think that maybe I should call Matt and tell him I got here just fine, but my mind is already slipping into sleep.

Matthew Barker and his tardiness can wait, for all I care.