A/N: I recently replayed P3P and I just noticed a few things that made this pairing, Shinji/Mitsuru, something worth exploring. I'm a sucker for the whole "opposites attract" thing so why not. It's my first chapters story so wish me luck. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own shit

"How long are you going to keep this shit up?" His voice curdled and cracked unpleasantly from the lack of use. Everything from his damn headache to unforgiving mass of his debilitating muscles weighing against his fragile, unused joints were signs of how much time had gone by. He glared at her, which he knew well enough by now did absolutely nothing to phase the heiress.

His eyes glanced down momentarily to catch her reddened lips purse into a controlled, unforgiving line. Shinjiro always knew she disapproved of his vulgar choice of words, but eloquently laced sentences in French were never his style. The way she tightly inhaled and replied, "If you mean how long it will be until you're discharged from the hospital," she exhaled now, "I assure you, it won't be until we have clear results of your current state of health." She gave him the look that somehow seized on his complete cooperation.

He almost wished Aki was here instead of her—hell, he would have even preferred Iori over this princess—but the doctors were instructed to call her had he woke up—if he ever woke up. The fact that she planned ahead to his near miraculous awakening, was more than enough to prove that she was in fact worthy of her inherited burden. Everything from her pristinely pressed collared blouse to her perfectly manicured tips made him feel off edge. How the hell did she even have to time to look like that in the middle of the night? The fact that she was staring straight through him made it more obvious how put-together she actually looked. Not even a slight hint of a dark circle, a candid yawn, or even a reddened eye from exhaustion was present. That made him wonder if she was awake this whole time. He could only assume she had at least hundreds of other things to do. Despite her seemingly composed appearance, everyone deserved to be asleep at this ungodly hour.

"Tch, whatever," he scoffed as looked vaguely to the left of the bleached hospital room, "Don't you have anything better to do?" He glanced down at the pile of paperwork she had neatly placed on her lap. He only looked long enough to see graphs and unfamiliar words that made it condescendingly clear that it was a world someone like him had no part in. "I know you called Aki already. He can take care of it from here."

She closed her eyes before placing the papers on the desk nearby, and he caught himself staring a bit too long at how her fan-like lashes cascaded feathery shadows across her high cheekbones. She even took the time to move his untouched food to avoid getting her paperwork soiled. But seeing her do something as normal as carrying a cheap plastic food tray, made him want to snatch it right out of her porcelain-like hands. Instead, he gripped his hand into a fist. "I only left him a message," She briefly turned to look at him. Realizing that she needed to clarify her reasoning, the heiress continued, "I didn't want to interrupt his studies. He has exams coming up tomorrow."

There was a heavy weight in the room, and finally he saw a glimpse of her losing track of her steady stride as she looked nervously to the right, "I-I didn't mean to put his studies over your health, I just–," He raised his hand to stop her.

"I got it," He gruffly replied. Ever since the beginning of SEES, they were somehow aware of each other's responsibility for taking care of Aki. There was never a need to vocalize why, somehow, they just silently knew it was something they had to do. He could only assume her reasoning was because she was the one who lured an innocent into the world of Shadows and placed burdens far too heavy for any adolescent to carry.

Shinjiro didn't need all the pieces of her actions put together for him. Akihiko was always stupid. Who else would continuously pursue an aimless, guilt-ridden boy to join a team based on their loose definition of friendship? As much as he would have liked his death to have been a painless, natural passing, he knew well enough it damaged Akihiko in some way. What a crybaby. It must have taken time and a firm resolve to put Akihiko's life back together, and Shinjiro was more than relieved to know that Akihiko was in college now, and moving on. The one thing Aki didn't need was to be dragged back because of his own goddamn mess.

She was different, in a way. Nothing about her made him worry, and to be honest, she never even gave him any reason or permission to be concerned for her—if anything, she seemed to distance herself from him a bit. He was sure she was smart enough to pick up on the fact that he disliked her from the moment she introduced Akihiko to his innate Persona. Still, she was always present in the back of his mind, and now he could only grit his teeth in stifled embarrassment at his own behavior. It didin't help hearing Yukari mention that he was "kind" during the back alley incident. Despite Mitsuru's impeccable fencing technique, and her advanced knowledge of Shadows and Tartarus, there was always something about her thin shoulders and her blushed cheeks, that kept the corner of his eye locked on her whenever they found the gall to enter Tartarus during their amateur days.

"What about you?" He asked finally, to keep his thoughts from wandering into unwanted terrain. He looked at the clock that had just ticked past yet another hour. "Don't you need to be studying or some shit?" His voice was callous as usual–mocking almost–but he didn't intend it to be that way. His eyes widened slightly when he heard her chuckling softly and even that sounded refined, like a well tuned instrument.

"I'm learning at a far higher level. I've graduated from college early. There are no exams that I need to be concerned with at the moment." He quietly scoffed, but he knew her well enough that her words carried no vanity. That was merely the world she lived in, and to her it was just a fact that carried no false pretense.

"Well, you're gonna have to deal with his bitchin' tomorrow," he added. His voice now carried a timbre of humor and his shoulders drooped finally in ease. "He's not going to be happy about this."

She didn't seem so irritated by his curses, in fact her lips almost quirked into a thin, amused smirk. "I'm well aware of the consequences." She paused before allowing herself to continue, "Welcome back."

And despite her icy front, her smile only exuded a familiar warmth he had almost long forgotten.