Author's Notes: Hey all. I know, last thing I need is a second project taking up more of my time. But I have a good reason for it. Oh, and standard disclaimers apply.

In a sense, it feels like coming back to my roots since I first wanted to write a P3 fic and just never got around to it. And my first online editing gig was for a P3 fic that has long since been discontinued. So part of this can be blamed on/credited to Enact for encouraging me, and the rest of it is largely my own fault for indulging my muse. Suffice it to say, this won't be as comprehensive as Continuance, since that is still my primary focus. But this is proving to be fun as well, so we'll see how far this goes on for.

As ever, read, review, comment, and I hope you enjoy the show!

Chapter 1 – Salute

It was the simple truth of the world that some things were too complicated to thrive on their own. Governments, education, cities, businesses, and people all bowed to this universal rule. Weaknesses had to be shored up, strengths needed direction, and inexperience required tutelage. No man was an island, and only fools believed that standing strong meant standing alone. People needed other people. It was this simple philosophy that greeted him every day he entered his office. The same belief that he stopped to look at each morning, scribed and emblazoned on the surface of his office desk, an eight-legged monstrosity made of dark oak and polished like dress shoes every second day.

Two in harmony surpasses one in perfection.

His scowl deepened beneath his eye patch. It was this belief that his own father could never accept. The man believed in himself, certainly, but only in himself, no matter how many people had given everything to help him succeed. That egomania drove him to the insanity that was Shadow research, an end pursued without any regard for the high cost that came with it. The cost that they were all still paying with interest.

Kirijo Takeharu growled to himself, pushing the memories away as he made his way through the tall doors behind his desk. Only one light on the wall greeted him as he moved through his inner sanctum – it was too early for most of the staff to be there yet, and there was something to be done that didn't involve them. If the corporation was like a person, then it needed its separate parts to function properly, especially somewhere that the decisions were made and the information was passed on from one part of the body to the next. In this case, the skull and the brain.

He tossed his coat onto the back of his chair and tapped a number of keys on the elaborate computer bank. It was cutting edge, probably the most advanced of its kind that he could afford to have in his own office, along with its twin in the spare room at the Dorm. But it was enough to serve its purpose. Lights flickered, text ran the length and breadth of the screen, and the innards of his comm. station clicked and hummed with life. "Iwatodai Dormitory," he told the voice-printed hardware. "Find me Ikutsuki."

It took two seconds of computing and a fraction of that to send the message. The remaining nine minutes were spent waiting for the dorm's guardian and director to actually answer the call. Granted, the call was at a far earlier time than their scheduled reports, but the man was often so deep in his research that he never left his floor of the dorm, let alone the actual building, so contacting him was usually a sure thing.

"Kirijo-san," the administrator finally said, stepping into the field of view of the dorm's comm. station cameras. He looked alert, but the early hour was easy enough to see in his rumpled suit and frayed hair that had escaped a brief and hurried brushing. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

First thing in the morning, before even the most dedicated salary men were awake, and he was still sharp. Takeharu didn't compliment many people (so few actually deserved it), but for all Ikutsuki's self-effacing behaviours and intense research, he adapted well to situations. "Some details have arisen, and they couldn't wait until we spoke next to address. Additionally, you should be lauded for handling the dorm and the Iwatodai situation as well as you have. I hear Mitsuru and Akihiko are preparing for future explorations and operations in Tartarus. It's reassuring that you've adapted to the changes so smoothly."

Ikutsuki bowed a little at the compliment. "Thank you, sir. It's been an honour to be part of this project. But I confess, we owe much of it to Mitsuru-san. She has a gift for organizing the others, and Akihiko-kun respects her."

"Of course. Commend her on her performance when you have the chance," Takeharu told him. "Also, make sure the others are made aware: you'll be receiving a new guest in the next week. The paperwork will be attended to on this end, but his placement and activities once he arrives will be your responsibility."

Ikutsuki's eyes widened slightly before narrowing in thought behind his glasses. "A new guest? Would this 'guest' happen to–"

Takeharu shook his head, cutting the man off. "I'll give the details when Mitsuru arrives. There's no need to say this twice."

An icon on the comm. screen flashed in the corner, indicating another person in the room. Had she just arrived? Or perhaps she'd been there the entire time. She never missed the details, especially when they were under her own roof. "I'm here, Father," she told him as she stepped into sight. "Is there something specific about this guest you wanted to address?"

He saw often saw her for their regular status reports, but every time he could was a gift, so he allowed himself a moment to take her in, dressed and alert even this early. She looked… strong. Tall, in control, and a gleam of intelligence in those eyes that always reminded him of her mother. Eimi… "He has the potential," Takeharu told them, pushing the memory aside to deal with the matter at hand. "He was identified ten years ago and has been under the Group's care since then. We've been monitoring his progress up to now, and with Tartarus appearing, it's time to see what he can do."

"I've never heard of such a person, sir," Ikutsuki pointed out. "If he has the potential, why was he not tested earlier? Do we even know how far his abilities go? Has he manifested a Persona yet?"

Mitsuru had stared at the screen, gathering and processing the information before speaking, never so much as a hitch in her voice. "How did we become aware of him? This is the first I've heard of anyone like this as well."

The Kirijo chairman glanced over at the open dossier next to him, left from the night before, but didn't bother reading it – he knew its contents well enough. "Arisato Minato. He lost his parents in a car crash on the Moonlight Bridge ten years ago. After the incident, his assessors felt he was too psychologically fragile to check for any clear sign of ability. When he was old enough to be tested, some of the results were inconclusive, while others showed that he has power, but hasn't manifested a Persona yet. Because of this, he was relegated as a lower priority until now. He's become quite capable, and potential for another Persona-user cannot be ignored. Since he didn't respond to the tests before, there's little reason to think that will change now. That's why he's coming to you. Maybe the Shadows and Tartarus will bring out in him what the labs couldn't."

"It would make sense to have other combatants to draw from should something happen," Ikutsuki mused. "While Akihiko-kun is displaying more progress than expected, Yukari-san still isn't a viable combatant yet. Thus our explorations of Tartarus have been sparse at best."

"So Takeba is still there," Takeharu noted aloud, as though he didn't already know. "Good. How well is she performing?"

"She's struggling with her Evoker," Mitsuru informed him simply. "She understands the need for it, but is having trouble pulling the trigger. She shows a great deal of determination when I've spoken to her, however, so I do believe that she'll take that step when it's necessary."

"What else do we know about Arisato?" Ikutsuki inquired. "Is there anything we should be aware of when he arrives?"

"I'll send you the file," the chairman promised. "As far as necessities and preferences go, he's not very demanding. He's shown an aptitude for academics and sports, makes friends when he applies himself, and has consistently performed well on the tests we've arranged for him. There have been some concerns surrounding his social expressiveness, however."

"How so?"

"Arisato's been consistently described as very monotone," he explained. "His facial expressions don't change much in relation to his mood. Since we first began observing him, he's never shown frustration or anger even when he got into fights. He's also never talked much about his parents or family up to the accident, and the assessors have noted that his voice doesn't change much in conversation. A consistent observation is that he has a sharp sense of humour, so their interest in him remains strong but inconclusive."

Mitsuru crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. "They even tested his voice?"

Her father nodded. "They wanted to check his memories and measure his sociability, and while all his assessments show him as intelligent and functional, he's known for being very subdued in his facial expressions, even when he's engaged with whatever he's working on. His handlers noted that even when he was making jokes, his expressions, to use their words, seem muted."

"Those are some considerable lengths to go to for one student," Ikutsuki ventured. "Did they suspect that he might be suffering from trauma from the accident? And were there any signs that he might be hiding something or misleading them?"

Takeharu glanced to the side as his computer clock flashed. Nearly time to go. "Every evaluator he's seen has raised that possibility, but there's no proof. He hasn't reported having nightmares, and follow-up sessions suggest he's not suffering from PTSD. We don't have any records of him prior to the accident, so it could be that he's always been a social anomaly. And there've been no signs of him hiding any tendencies consistent with depression or psychological disorders. It's possible that he simply has a different threshold compared to normal people. Regardless, Mitsuru, I leave his handling to you. He should be a valuable asset under the right circumstances, so do what you can."

"Of course, Father. We'll look after him."

She looked about to say something else, but he stood up from his chair. "I'll be in touch for your next report. Be safe until then." And he cut the connection before grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and heading for the door. There were meetings to attend to, people to see, and competitors to deal with. His time with his daughter was over – work awaited.

One might think that being born with blue hair meant he'd be a magnet for strange things. Up until now, that hadn't been the case. In fact, he was arguably pretty normal despite his curious colouring. That wasn't to say that nothing happened at all, of course. Just that it never hit him all at once. He'd had weird days before now. But tests at the clinic that involved him listening to continuous loops of J-Pop and Western orchestral music, questions on how he felt around guns, and regular inquiries on his dreams and any memories he felt like talking about had made up the majority of them. Even being informed that he was moving to Tatsumi Port Island and enrolling in a new school for no clear reason, while odd, didn't qualify as 'strange'.

Complimentary train rides across the country and piles of paperwork to transfer to a new residence, that was all he expected. But pools of blood that hadn't been there before and his earphones cutting out when the night went hazy and green proved that his previous experiences couldn't even scratch the surface of weirdness. He'd wanted to credit his music dying out to his new batteries (that stupid pink bunny could choke on that drum set – they stopped 'going' pretty early for him) and blame the green haze on local pollution or the in-transit meal he'd forced down. But that didn't explain the weird glow that the moon held. Or all the upright coffins along the streets as he followed his directions. Or his cell phone dying when he checked the time. Or the glowing slivers of light following the shimmering blue butterfly he'd almost run into once he'd turned the corner a few blocks from his destination. His fluttering friend circled him a few times, then continued down the street he was planning on following. By then he was numb to the weirdness surrounding him and was just going with it, so all he could do was shrug and go after it. They were going the same direction, and maybe he'd be able to find some people and some answers.

Of course, what small sense of normalcy he'd attained by following a flying blue insect was trashed by the kid behind the desk insisting on his signature. And that 'contract' didn't look like the waivers and dorm residency papers he'd signed before he got on the train. His fluttering friend, big surprise, was nowhere to be seen. The kid kept quiet when Minato asked what the forms were for (so much for getting those answers), and just repeated his instructions in that same weird voice when asked about the coffins or the green haze outside or where the butterfly was. For how serious the kid was taking his job, Minato had been about to ask if he should sign the contract in his own blood, but the creepy vibe he got from Junior's pale eyes kept his mouth shut – he probably wouldn't like the answer if the kid took him seriously. And the little vanishing act that the kid pulled right after he got his signature made Minato especially glad that he didn't ask.

But at least the power was back on. He winced against the lights snapping back on and had just grabbed his bags, about to call out and ask if anyone was home and who was to blame for the blackout, when he heard a strangled gasp paired with a distinct click. He snapped still and felt ice shiver down his spine. He looked over slowly, noting the slender brunette he hadn't seen come down the stairs, and the pale blue handgun she was clutching in two shaking hands. The handgun she was pointing at him.

Great. Just great. Like being tossed out a plane, having his fall broken by a flock of geese, and landing in a pool of fajita sauce to be served to cannibalistic circus performers.

"Don't worry; it's not loaded."

Says the kid who vanishes into the walls and dresses like an escaped convict. And a little more warning would've been nice next time. Or even an introduction – he wasn't picky.

Yeah, thanks Junior. Big help.

So he tried for as much tact as he could, considering the situation. "Uh, hi there." She didn't answer. Just kept shaking and staring at him like he'd stepped out of her nightmares. Minato held his hands out as non-threateningly as he could and reminded himself not to move. "I'm not going to hurt you, you know. I'm not sure if I can from back here. See?"

She finally took a breath and started speaking. "D… don't…"

"Takeba!"

The girl flinched, and for a moment it looked like she'd shoot him accidentally. But she pulled the gun back and holstered it in a frantic rush instead.

So… no gun now. No coffins, no green haze or weird moon or blue butterflies or disappearing kids. Finally, he let out a breath and stepped back to the desk by the door. Once his heart rate settled to a nice, moderate 400 beats per minute, he looked at the two ladies who were staring at him curiously. The brunette was of average height and dressed in runners and a pink sweater. She looked surprisingly fresh considering how late it was. There was a red armband on her left sleeve, but he couldn't see the wording on it. She was cute enough, and was probably pretty popular when she wasn't using her fellow man for target practice.

But it was the other girl that caught his eye. Tall, especially in those boots, pale skin that suited the pressed shirt she wore, calm features and long red hair that rested partway down her front and back and matched the ribbon tied in a bow at her collar very nicely. And her eyes were almost the same shade as her hair, gleaming with a maturity and personal control that he couldn't help but notice. Close as he could tell, she was around his age, maybe a year older, and she commanded the room just by being in it. He couldn't blame Takeba for following her orders - she certainly had his attention, and he didn't even know her name.

"I apologize for that," the redhead told him calmly, gesturing to her calming companion. "We weren't expecting you until tomorrow morning. And things have been tense in the neighbourhood lately, so Takeba takes dorm security very seriously."

"Seriously enough to warrant firearms in the hands of high school students?" he asked as calmly as he could, which, he'd been told, was somewhere between 'placid' and 'dead.'

"It's quite a story," she replied smoothly. "But the lobby isn't the best place for such a discussion. Come in and make yourself comfortable. This is Takeba Yukari, and I'm Kirijo Mitsuru. Welcome to the Iwatodai Dormitory. You must be Arisato Minato."

"That's right. It's a pleasure to meet you both," he told them as he bowed as best he could, loaded down with his bags. "And I appreciate the welcome; so far it's been the most memorable part of my day."

"Uh… sorry about that," Yukari mumbled before trying to find something to do with her hands, caught between putting them in her pockets or crossing them or linking them behind her back. "It's been a rough week, and I thought… well, sorry."

"No problem. I guess." He let a breath out and looked around for the kid again. "It could have been a lot worse, and I thought they would have sent my schedule ahead of time. By the way, whose little brother was that?"

"Who?" Yukari asked, looking around. Junior hadn't reappeared since the lights came back on. Figures. Maybe he was shy?

"None of the residents have any siblings," Mitsuru informed him, a curious edge to her stare. "And no one here is under 16. What did he look like?"

Minato gave a quick description, adding "He was sitting at the desk when I got here, and asked me to sign a contract. Seemed pretty insistent, so I just assumed he was filling in for someone." Never mind that vanishing into thin air like the Cheshire Cat himself was a pretty hard act to follow. If they didn't know about the kid, then they probably wouldn't believe him if he shared those particular details.

"We'll keep an eye out for him," Mitsuru assured him, turning and raising a hand toward the stairs. "But you must be tired after today. I'll show you to your room, and we'll cover the details in the morning."

'Covering the details' was a pretty broad way of putting it, because the details that were covered pertained to the mundane matter of the dorm. Things like where his room was, how to get to his new school, and making sure he had the right keys. Mitsuru-senpai, as open as she was to his questions, didn't answer the issue that had been on his mind since the power came back on that night: who trusted a teenager with a handgun, and what was she so afraid of that she'd pull it on the new guy if they were expecting him to be there?

Well, that was two questions. And there was a third one on his mind: whose idea was it to stock the fridge with nothing but protein drinks, spinach-leaf salad, and pocky? Where was the milk and eggs and bread? Why was there pocky in the fridge in the first place, and whose was it?

But whatever questions he had after breakfast, Ikutsuki, the dorm administrator and proud owner of the plainest suits and weirdest jokes this side of Hong Kong, had done a good job in diverting his attention or simply giving answers that didn't address the matter at hand. When he'd been about to push harder, a silver-haired teen arrived at the breakfast table, protein drink and school bag in hand, to inform him that they needed to be off to school. Sanada Akihiko had introduced himself when Minato came down for breakfast, then headed back into the dorm until now. Ikutsuki mentioned it was for training.

"Everything should be taken care of with the school administrators, but stop by the main office to make sure," Mitsuru told him as he and Akihiko were leaving.

Minato stopped to bow to her politely – of all the people he'd met so far, it felt like she deserved the respect the most. "Thanks, Kirijo-senpai."

She gave a light chuckle at his formality. "We're going to be living in the same dorm now, so there's no need to be so formal. Just 'Mitsuru' will be fine."

"Ah. Mitsuru-senpai then." It had a nice ring to it, and she nodded in response.

"We're gonna be late," Akihiko called from the door. Minato grabbed his bags and headed out with the pale teen. He didn't seem the sort to enjoy repeating himself, so Minato focused on his words and didn't talk much. Akihiko covered topics like the dorm's policies on curfew, the layout of Tatsumi Port Island, and other such useful facts. Just like that morning, no handguns were mentioned, and he gave Minato a sharp look when he asked about any criminal incidents in the neighbourhood. Down the streets, on the train, along the walkways that led to school, he committed what his senpai said to memory.

"Takeba should be here already. We've asked her to show you to your homeroom and help you get set up," Akihiko told him as they approached the school. "You're both in the same class, so just follow her lead until you get a feel for the place. I have some things to take care of before first class."

Akihiko's and Mitsuru's use of Yukari's name was something Minato had noticed at breakfast. "She doesn't seem the sort to get stuck on manners and formalities. Is there a reason you call her by her family name?"

He chuckled and shifted his school bag before responding. "I guess you could call it familiarity. Or the lack of it, in her case. She hasn't been at the dorm very long, and she's pretty distant around me and Mitsuru." Minato noted that despite the formality he used with Yukari's name, Mitsuru-senpai was different. Interesting. "Trouble adjusting, I guess. But I've gotta run, so I'll see you back at the dorm if not on break."

"You too, Akihiko-senpai. And thanks for everything."

He gave a wave in response, and Minato looked up to see his new school for the first time. It was clean and well built, and remarkably efficient on space, at least from the outside. He'd heard that the Kirijo Group commissioned it, and thought it an unusual act of charity for a corporate entity to give a school to society. Surprising, and quite human. His surprise died off when he saw their same efficiency in the front doors and the steps leading up to them, the wide walkway bordered by stone-walled flowerbeds and deep benches. The entire place felt professionally planned out.

Minato let the view wash over him and hadn't moved since Akihiko had gone into the school. Otherwise he might have noticed how some of the other students were whispering to themselves and pointing at him. He'd gotten as far as thinking of how well the view of the building was complimented by the windmills behind it when he was brought back to rude reality by someone crashing into him from behind. Hard. He barely kept his footing, and when he turned, sore back and shoulders and all, he tried to chew out to the girl he saw staring at him. "Was that necessa–"

"Are you friends with Akihiko-senpai?!" Her eyes were already wide, but only got more so when she leaned closer to him. If she thought her nearly knocking him over was at all a problem, it didn't show.

His anger guttered out like a soaked candle. She hadn't taken the hint from his glare; instead she had a fervent, arguably crazed, intensity about her that he tried to get away from. But she followed. He stepped back again, and she followed again. And every time he tried to back away and glare her off, she only got closer. "Look, You need t–"

"What!?" another girl shrieked, rushing up to him. "You're friends with him?! What's he like off campus? How do you know him?!"

"I don't really–"

"But he talked to you! That has to mean something! How long have you known each other? He mentioned a dorm, so do you live with him?!"

And of course, because misery loves company and company brings friends, several guys couldn't be bothered to have their discussion elsewhere. Like, twenty feet away and out of earshot. "Hey, didn't Yukari-san move into the same dorm as Akihiko-senpai?"

"That's what I heard," his friend replied. And Minato could feel the eyes turning on him. He wasn't in a rush to get to homeroom, but suddenly the front doors, less than thirty feet in front of him, looked very appealing. And felt very far away.

"Whoa, dude, you live with Takeba Yukari? What's she like? C'mon, tell us!"

Tact and manners became much less of a priority at that point. "There's nothing to say," Minato growled, pushing past the students toward the school.

"Oh come on! You live with her so you must know some things about her, right? You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Same with Akihiko-senpai! Just a little bit. Please?!"

Minato ditched the idea of making a good impression on the first day and began shoving past them, pointedly telling them all to get out of the way. Finally, he managed to escape them, switching shoes on the fly and taking the first empty seat he could find in his homeroom. He took a few minutes to shake the ringing from his ears and make sure none of them had followed him in. That was… unexpected. He hadn't known Akihiko-senpai would be so popular with the girls. And while Yukari's apparently stellar reputation confirmed what he'd assumed before, he wasn't expecting their respective fan clubs to be so… enthusiastic. Next thing he knew, they'd be begging him to carry letters or to be their go-between for dates and meetings. He pulled out his books and sighed. It would be hard to hide, too – being the new transfer student, and a distinctive one at that, meant anonymity was going to be in short supply.

But at least with all the attention on those two, he didn't have to worry about students flooding his shoebox with love letters or having to fight off romantic rivals just because he was the new guy. He knew he was good looking, but he didn't need a horde of girls following him. He liked things when they were uncomplicated and straightforward. And he'd work to keep his school life that way, because nothing was worth that much drama. Nothing. If he ever had to put up with that much teenage clinginess and drool again, he swore to shoot himself in the head. Maybe Yukari would lend him her gun if it came to that.

It was that night that he got his chance.

As though being woken up in the middle of the night and running from something climbing up the dorm walls wasn't bad enough. Or that his senpai had sent them up the stairs where, no surprise, there weren't any other ways down when their pursuers were hammering at the windows. No, instead he'd gotten onto the roof with Yukari to see the things that were chasing them clear the wall and close in around them.

For the first time in longer than he could remember, he was scared stiff. The masks, the way the blobs moved. And those swords, very real swords. Yukari's explanation rang hollow in his ears, and he couldn't move even when she was knocked from her feet.

He could feel their stare land on him, shivering up one side of his body and down the other. He knew they were looking at him. Not with eyes; there were no eyes. But with something else. Something that was instinctual and… familiar.

They…

They were Shadows. And he knew where they were vulnerable.

The fear died off and his legs felt loose. Yukari's gun lay at his feet and everything began to slow down. The night became painfully bright, like every colour was hitting his eyes four times harder than normal. The sound of them shuffling, closer. Closer. The smell of pollution and night mist coated his lungs, the taste of adrenaline and copper. Everything intensified, like he'd chewed on a lightning bolt. It all merged in front of him, halting time while a second pulse pumped through his veins. A second heartbeat, thudding in his ears. One beat. Two. Two more. He looked above the monster in the lead, and he saw it. Hovering, translucent, limned in light as hazy as the moon above them, was a man holding a lyre. But he was more than a man. Standing. Waiting. And Minato understood him without hearing a word.

You… You want to help? You can fight them? He knew he was right in his guess, and he knew what to do.

Despite how strongly he felt everything around him, on the inside he was at the heart of the void. Everything he was seeing should have scored a 48 on his 15-point 'weirdness' scale. His first night in town hadn't even come close. But he wasn't scared now. He could almost feel Yukari's fear from where she was. Not him. No fear as he bent his knees and reached down. No curiosity when he felt his hand wrap around the grip of the gun she'd dropped. No nothing at the moment he raised it to his temple, leaning into the cool, smooth metal against his heated skin.

The world flashed white before his eyes. And there he was again. Appearing as fast as he'd vanished before. The smile on his pale face was macabre like a stripped skull, eyes as dull as those of gargoyles on a cemetery gate. "Go on."

I'm getting there, Junior.

There was something else, a dark, murky shadow around his vision that had nothing to do with the monsters moving toward him. The sound of wind whistling through barren branches. The smell of grave dirt and granite. A cold touch on his soul that he recognized but couldn't place. Through it all, the man with the lyre, Orpheus, hovered there. Staring at him. Waiting on him. All he had to do was… You're it, aren't you? You're my "Per.. so.. na!"

His mind shattered when he pulled the trigger.

Arisato Minato had never indulged in drugs or alcohol before, especially with the Kirijo Group watching him so closely, so he couldn't compare waking up the next morning to a hangover. But if having one felt like he did when he woke up, as though his stomach was churning like a washing machine and his head had gotten stuck in a train's main engine, then he swore off ever touching the stuff from that point on. The cars outside sounded like passing hurricanes, the sunlight from the nearby window was jamming needles into his eyes when he opened them, and the clean smell of antiseptic and fresh cotton sheets was about to make him sick. All he could do was curl up on the bed and hope to keep his dinner down and dignity intact.

"How're you feeling?"

Yukari. He cringed and curled up more, trying to push out the noise. Just thinking her name hurt. "Don't," he rasped, and even doing that was enough to make him want to cry. "Too bright. Not so loud."

"Oh, sorry," she told him quietly, and the sunlight was cut out by her drawing the blinds shut. Then he heard her walk across the room and flick some switches, and the room's lights dimmed down. "Guess you're still feeling it, huh?" she inquired as he let out a breath of relief and cracked his eyes enough to see her.

"That's a word for it," he replied, slowly propping himself up and leaning back against the pillows. "I don't spose you got the number of the truck that hit me, did you? Or the driver's name?"

She looked at him oddly as she retook her seat in the chair next to his bed. "Uh, there wasn't a truck. You do remember what happened last night, right?"

Killjoy. "Yeah, I remember what happened," he sighed. "I was just trying not to."

"Right. Sorry. If it helps, it was a little funny." Too bad she didn't sound the least bit amused. "But Mitsuru-senpai and Ikutsuki-san wanted a clear idea of how you're feeling and what you remember, so I just had to make sure."

Minato grunted as he shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable before giving her his report. "Fair enough. I remember those things with the masks attacking us on the dorm roof and grabbing that guns of yours. I pulled the trigger, and that's where things get weird. Was that normal for using one of those things?"

She looked a little startled, perhaps not expecting him to respond so quickly or to question her so soon. "Uh, I'm not sure about 'normal', even for an Evoker or using your Persona for the first time. But you haven't answered my first question – how're you feeling?"

Better now that the lights were down and his stomach settled. Didn't help his headache though. "Like half the bones in my body were broken and rearranged. And like my head's being used as a basketball in the semi-finals," he replied with as much cheer as he could. "Other than that, pretty terrible."

She blinked owlishly at him, then smiled and settled into her chair. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're pretty unusual," she told him finally. "I thought you'd be a lot more serious or quiet. Especially after last night. I mean, most people wouldn't be joking about it. Or as calm about it as you are."

"I get that a lot."

"Well, thanks for the help. Sorry I choked up like that."

He brushed it aside, as much as his arm and hand would allow. "It is pretty insane to shoot yourself in the head, even to bring out a… what did you call it? A Persona? And that Evoker looks like a handgun; I doubt anyone's crazy enough to pull the trigger without a sweating it a little. So I can't blame you for that."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it," she pointed out.

No, and that should have been worrying by itself. He knew he had a skewed view on how he should react sometimes, but turning a gun on himself and pulling the trigger was a new extreme, even for him. But Yukari didn't need to know that. "And I get more impressive the longer you know me," he told her with a smirk that felt like his face was being broken in half.

"And modest too," she replied dryly. "Thanks again, and I'm glad you're awake. I should let the others know you're awake."

He rested back and closed his eyes. "Works for me," he told her through a yawn.

He heard her rise from her chair, but she'd barely made it around his bed before she stopped. "Hey, one last question." She sounded serious.

His stomach was starting to settle, but he didn't want to risk agitating it again so he didn't turn to look at her. "Shoot."

"I heard that you know a bit about the Kirijo Group. That they've been part of your life for a while, and that's why you're here now."

He chuckled without opening his eyes. "That's an awkward way of putting it. But yeah, they've looked out for me since my family died."

She paused for a moment, and her tone was a little shaky when she spoke again. "Oh, jeez. I'm really sorry about that. Last thing you need right now is someone bringing up bad memories."

"It's alright. The accident happened a long time ago, and I don't remember much about it. Why the curiosity about the Kirijo Group? I mean, you've lived with the chairman's daughter longer than I have."

"Uh… well, Mitsuru-senpai's always pretty busy, with school and dorm business, that sort of thing. So she wouldn't have time to answer small questions, you know? But you've got more history with them than I do, so I thought you might know something about the Group. Or maybe you'd met her. Before now, that is."

Liar. He didn't even need to see her expressions to pick up her nervousness. And why would she sound so serious about him knowing about the Group if it was idle curiosity? "Gotcha. No, I never knew Mitsuru-senpai before I moved here. The most exposure I ever had to the Group was medical check-ups and them giving me a place to live. I never got involved in their businesses or plans before now."

"I see. Well, thanks. And I hope you feel better." She was out the door before he could reply. Touchy, that one. She didn't sound happy with his answers. That said, she didn't seem too warm toward anything related to the Kirijo Group, and it wouldn't surprise him if he was on that list as well.

His last thought before he nodded off was how little that idea bothered him.

Despite how awful he'd felt after waking up, Minato was back on his feet just a few hours after Yukari left. For how much pain he was in, it didn't last long. A battery of tests and a few explanations from Ikutsuki and Mitsuru-senpai later, he was leaving the hospital in the clothes he'd been wearing the night before and admiring the sunset as he hoofed it back to the dorm, turning down offers for a ride and saying he wanted to stretch and exercise after half a day of forced bed rest. Ikutsuki had met him at the doors when he entered and caught up with him on what'd happened the night before.

"It would be better if Mitsuru-san talked to you about all that," he replied when Minato started pushing for answers. "It's something she knows more about and can explain easier than I can, and Akihiko-san mentioned that there might be another student joining us soon. If so, then it would make more sense to address the matter once with everyone, correct?"

It was hard to refute the man's logic, and Minato wasn't about to push Mitsuru-senpai on the matter. Instead he threw together a meal light enough to handle and salty enough to cleanse his palette of the taste of hospital food before turning in and sleeping for eleven uninterrupted hours.

When Minato caught up with Akihiko-senpai the next day, any questions relating to the new student living in the dorm were met with the response 'no clear answer yet.' And it wasn't until that evening that the answer arrived in the form of Akihiko-senpai holding the door open for a teenager Minato recognized from school, wheeling in several boxes and bags and carefully working over the door threshold.

"This is Iori Junpei," his senpai introduced the cart-laden teen who steadied his load long enough to bow at the introduction. "I ran into him the other day, and it seems he's got the potential. When I explained the situation, he volunteered to join us. We just got the arrangements and details worked out earlier today."

"And here I am!" Junpei added once Akihiko was finished. His eyes lit up a little when he saw Yukari, who'd been trying to conceal a look of resignation from them all. "Hey, Yuka-tan. So it seems we'll be roommates now, huh?"

"Hey Junpei," she replied as kindly as she could, though Minato caught the "why did it have to be him?" in tone easily enough. "Well, we'll see what happens. The standards are a little strange, so it might be that this isn't your thing."

"Trying to get rid of him already?" Minato inquired as he pushed off the wall. Yukari sputtered a response while Junpei laughed and adjusted his ball cap. "Arisato Minato," he introduced himself smoothly. "Seems we're in this together."

Junpei reached out and shook his hand when offered. "Cool! Good to see you again. And you're living with Mitsuru-senpai and Yuka-tan." He tossed a wink over Minato's shoulder and pretended he didn't hear the groan from Yukari. "Not bad for the new guy."

"Seems like I was born under a lucky sign," Minato replied calmly. "Or an unlucky one. It's hard to tell half the time."

"But you're living here, dude," Junpei pointed out. "That's gotta count for being lucky, right?"

Minato kept to himself the fact that he'd woken up the morning before in a hospital wishing he'd died. He was about to comment on how residency at the dorm came with the added perks of fighting monsters, summoning supernatural beasts, and having guns pointed at him in the first week, and that wasn't even including Ikutsuki's jokes or the weird stuff they had in the fridge, but he was interrupted when the administrator made his appearance. Introductions were finalized and Mitsuru-senpai herded them toward the couches in the foyer. "Now that everyone knows each other, it's time you learned what we do here and why you're a part of it," she told them, standing at the centre of attention.

Ikutsuki and the senpai explained and the kouhai listened. The Dark Hour. Tartarus. SEES, their Evokers, the Shadows and Personas. Apathy Syndrome and The Lost. Minato kept his mouth shut and let the information sink in. It didn't take long (it never did) and he turned to examine the others when he was finished. It seemed Yukari had heard the details before, or knew enough that she wasn't as surprised as Junpei, in any case. Despite that, there was still a hint of suspicion on her face, and Minato was reminded of her questions the other day. What had the Kirijo done to her? Being curious about the Group was one thing, but this was looking like bad blood. Junpei, on the other hand, had a look of intense focus on his face as he turned what they'd been told over in his mind.

"Well?" Akihiko gestured impatiently after a few minutes.

"This is crazy," Junpei muttered.

"I dunno," Minato replied calmly, leaning back with ankles crossed. "It makes sense. The Dark Hour cutting out electronics, normal people ending up in coffins so they don't see the change, Shadows hunting people and Personas being used to fight them. Considering what happened the other night, I'm ready to accept that much."

"Do you believe everything you're told this easily?" Yukari groused from beside him.

"Just the things I see firsthand that put me in the hospital. I mean, it's no crazier than having a gun pointed at me that doesn't fire bullets."

"I told you: that was an accident," she snapped with a glare. "Would you please stop bringing it up?"

"This is deep," Junpei told them, a little louder this time. "I mean, we're high school students. The most any of us had to worry about was test scores and part-time jobs, and now we're supposed to be a kill squad for Shadows?" He looked over at Minato, who'd been watching their senpai curiously. "C'mon, you think this is crazy, don't you? It could be like they say it is, but it could be something else, right?"

Minato noticed that none of the other three looked offended or surprised that doubts had been raised, and he shrugged in response. "Sure. It could be a lot of other things, or a mix of a bunch of unrelated things all happening at once. But I don't have a different explanation for them that makes more sense." He cocked an eyebrow as he looked to the side, and Junpei's expression said he didn't have one either. "I can't comment on The Lost, but I was wondering what would've happened to us if we hadn't killed those things the other night. And them leaving a brain-dead husk behind is as good an answer as any."

"I'm glad you're seeing the sense in fighting them," Mitsuru-senpai told him, her first time to speak since the explanations were made. "It's not something we can just allow to continue unchecked. The Shadows need to be stopped, and Persona-users are the best way to fight them."

"I am curious if there are other ways of doing that," Minato mentioned. "It doesn't seem like they'll come at us one at a time, and even with five of us, there's no guarantee there won't be more than we can handle with just our Personas. I'd rather not end up out of commission for a day every time we get into a fight."

"Dude," Junpei muttered in disbelief, "they're talking about fighting monsters by shooting ourselves in the head with things that look like guns. Is this really your first time hearing all this stuff? Because you're way too calm."

Mitsuru-senpai stared at Minato calmly, ignoring Junpei's words. "You're concerned about your own Persona and the reaction you had the other night. I admit, that surprised us as well. I've never seen such a strong reaction before."

"We looked at the footage," Akihiko-senpai added when Minato's brow creased a little, "and as near as we can tell, your case is unique and pretty rare. First-time summonings are always risky, and we think you just put too much into it. That's what caused the backlash. With practice, I don't think you'll have that problem again. But let us know if things go weird on you, alright? An out-of-control Persona's not a joke."

"But we are going to have a backup, right?"Junpei asked, finally moving past the shock. "I mean, we can't count on our Personas for everything. So we're gonna need grenade launchers and automatics to make sure we finish the Shadows off."

"I'd hate to find out who you plan on getting to carry all the ammo for that," Minato replied. "Not to mention that those are noisy and heavy. And I wouldn't want to risk putting live rounds in my Evoker – gave me enough of a headache by itself last time."

"We're not using guns," Akihiko-senpai told them. "It's too impractical with all the paperwork and questions people ask. But there are other things we can use besides our Personas."

"Like what?" Yukari asked.

The two senpai shared a look then gestured for the three kouhai to follow them up the stairs. Ikutsuki excused himself from the group, citing a need for more research now that they had more members. Once they reached the second floor and turned right, they were led to a polished oak door that had several locks on it. Mitsuru-senpai reached into a skirt pocket and pulled out a key ring before selecting one and unlocking a lock, then using another key for a different lock, and so on until she was finished. Then she opened the door and stepped through, snapping on the lights and gesturing for them to follow. Minato let the others go in first, and was suddenly glad he had – when he saw what the room contained, he stopped in place.

Weapons. Lots and lots of weapons. Bows and quivers of arrows, spears and nunchaku, several racks of fighting gauntlets and cestuses and spiked gloves, a couple battle axes and heavy knives, and entire stands filled with swords. Katanas and epees and claymores and sabres, blades of all makes and cultures, clean and sheathed and sitting patiently along the wall. On a table, half-concealed in a locked wood and glass case, were the same pale blue guns that Minato remembered seeing Yukari handle. Their Evokers. Minato expected them to be kept safely out of sight, but wasn't expecting to see so many.

Beside him, Yukari was speechless. "W-whoa…"

Junpei looked like he didn't know whether to be concerned that a dorm had such an arsenal, or to indulge in every guy's fantasy and immediately run over to the sword racks. "Those… are awesome," he murmured finally.

Minato, on the other hand, had seen and heard all he needed to. The spark of curiosity was fanned into a blaze of sudden enthusiasm. "I'm in." The others looked at him, reactions mixed from surprise to disbelief to, in Mitsuru-senpai's case, approval. "It's going to take more than the two of you to fight those things, and I'm curious about them and my Persona. If fighting the Shadows gets me some answers, then count me in."

"Thanks," Akihiko-senpai told him from where he was leaning against the wall.

"Just like that?" Yukari asked. "You're not curious about the details? What if there's more we don't know?"

"Doesn't matter," he told her, still eyeing the racks with the European swords. "I was worried that there wouldn't be a backup plan and that I'd have to use a Persona for everything. But these?" He gestured toward the swords and gave his senpai a slowly-growing grin. "I can get used to these. When do we get started?"