Author's Note: Hey, guys! Here's yet another Minato/Mitsuru story (Because you know they're my favorite). I really didn't like how the game glossed over Junpei's accusation of the Dark Hour and the End of the World being the main character's fault. It felt like a pivotal moment that should've broken the protagonist, but instead, it gets forgotten about in the next minute. It rubbed me the wrong way, so here's my take on the scene with a little fluff mixed in 'cuz that's how I roll ;)

Junpei's words felt like a twisting knife is his gut.

'Was it… really my fault…?' The bluenette looked around the room.

Silence.

Nobody dared to speak, too stunned by Junpei's outburst.

"I-I'm… sorry…" Minato's voice was too broken to finish his apology. The words were caught in his throat, his eyes stung with a familiar blurriness, and he felt his chest tighten.

'No' He thought. He couldn't break down here. Not in front of them. Not in front of her. He couldn't afford to break his mask of stoic bravery. What would they think of him if their only anchor point, their only refuge, broke down and cried like a child?

No matter how he felt, he needed to keep his composure, at least until he was out from under their gaze. He needed to stay strong, until he was alone, and then he could let his emotions flow free. So, Minato did the only thing that seemed logical in that moment. He stood up, sauntered towards the front door, and he ran.

Mitsuru looked at where Minato had just fled. The door to the outside slammed closed, and she could feel the tension in the room.

"Good job, Stupei," Yukari looked sullen, but kept a glare on the hat wearing boy, "now you've gone and done it."

"Hey! I didn't expect him to react like that. He takes crap like that from me all the ti-"

"Iori! If I were you, I would stay silent!" Mitsuru's threat was backed up by her signature glare.

"What do we do about Minato-kun?" Fuuka stood up in a panic, and she looked like she was about to cry herself.

"There's not much we can do until he gets back," Akihiko put a reassuring hand on the teal-haired girl's shoulder, "He always bounces back, no matter what. Plus we don't know where he went. It would be useless to search for him."

"I know, but- "Fuuka was stuttering over her own words in her panicked state.

"Akihiko and I will wait for him to get back, Yamagishi. Until then, I suggest the rest of you get some sleep. We still have school tomorrow." Mitsuru's words weren't much of a suggestion as they were a command. She couldn't stand the sight of Junpei, and Yukari and Fuuka's worrying were only making matters worse for herself. In truth, she was just as worried about the blue haired leader as anybody else, probably more so in fact, as she could tell that what Junpei said had finally breached Minato's barrier.

The bluenette always hid his emotions, was always calm, and always knew what to say. When he had faced down Mitsuru's horrid fiancé, he did so without so much as blinking an eye in danger, despite all the threats of physical violence and legal action the sleazy business man hurled at the boy. For something to break his composure, to break his spirit, was unheard of. Not to mention her growing feelings for the field leader. He had helped her with so much of her troubles, and yet she hadn't heard a single complaint in return. He was there for her, so now she needed to be there for him.

The cold winter evening was just what Minato needed to calm his nerves, and once he was far away enough from the dorm. He broke down.

'Junpei isn't wrong' He thought. 'It's all my fault.' The tears flowed faster, and he clenched his fist until it turned bone white. 'I've led them to their doom.'

The boy needed something. Something to numb the pain. Something to make him forget about what just happened.

By the time Minato finally reached Club Escapade it was already 10:00 PM. He waded through the sea of carefree adults on the dance floor until he reached the bar underneath the stairs. The bartender looked young, and he was barely paying attention when Minato walked up.

"I need a bottle of the strongest thing you got." The bluenette muttered; avoiding the gaze of both the bartender and the other patrons, and trying to drown out the migraine-inducing dance music with his own.

"I'm gonna need to see some I.D. here, bud. What's a kid like you doin' here?" The bartender turned to look at the teen who was obvious not of legal age.

"Listen…I've had a shitty day, and I know you have a shitty job. So how about you give me the bottle, and just pretend this never happened." Minato then slipped the bartender 100,000. Courtesy of Tartarus explorations. The bartender sighed, checked to see if any of the patrons were looking, then pocketed the money and reached for a bottle on the highest shelf.

"Whatever trouble you get into is your fault alone kid, but if you get caught and lead the cops back here. There'll be hell to pay." The bartender glared at the sulking teen who was too busy fiddling with his MP3 player to notice the threat.

"Thank you." Was all Minato could muster. He hid the bottle in his school uniform and walked out of the night club with no real destination in mind.

After a little bit of thoughtless wandering, Minato found himself in the same back alley that Shinjiro had died. Minato had always admired the senior, but now he was jealous of him. Shinjiro managed to face his death with confidence and acceptance, and now Minato wished he could do the same thing.

He was going to die. Minato knew that, and he was going to drag all the people he cared about with him.

And it was his fault.

That was what hurt the most. When he first arrived in Iwatodai, he didn't care if he lived or died. Life was meaningless. Just an endless cycle of monotony. But now, he had people he cared about. He had friends. He had a family. He had a certain red head Senpai that he cared deeply for.

And now he was going to tell them all that he failed. He failed at stopping the Dark Hour. And now they were going to die.

Minato gave a dry chuckle to himself. Maybe Ryoji's offer wasn't so bad after all.

He took his first swig of the alcohol. It burned his throat, but he instantly felt like shit.

'Look at me. Drowning my sorrows in a bottle.' Minato scoffed at his own pathetic actions. 'Bet Mom and Dad are real proud right now, Minato.' His own mental chastisement mixed with his anger and regret just made him emotional again, and any attempt on the alcohol's part to soothe his suffering was rendered mute as he felt the tears flow again.

"Well what do we got here?" Minato looked up to see a greasy haired teen with multiple lip piercings followed by three other similar looking punks. "Looks like we gotta teach these students in a more in-depth way about why you don't disturb out turf." The greasy teen gave Minato a feral look and cracked his knuckles.

Minato scoffed at the ringleader and glared at the delinquents. His vision was impaired and he felt slower than normal, but he could still make out the general shapes of his attackers. He glanced down at the bottle of alcohol only to see that he had already gulped down three fourths of it.

'Well that explains it.' Minato grimaced, but then smirked viscously as he looked at the assailants. 'Battling against the odds? Isn't that what I do every night?' He staggered up and cracked his own knuckles respectively.

"Bring it, assholes!"

Mitsuru was normally a calm person. A very calm, patient person who didn't jump to conclusions often, but the disappearance of a certain blue haired teen followed by the start and end of the Dark Hour without his return had warning alarms blaring in her head the entire night.

Akihiko went to bed a couple of hours ago, but she hadn't slept at all, too afraid that he might be hurt, or worse, even… well… she didn't want to dwell on that too much.

She was exhausted, but she continued pacing in the dorm's common room. Watching the door, hoping that she would see a familiar blue head appear any moment.

But that didn't happen.

The sun was already coming up, and she could feel the shakiness in her breaths. The constant beating of her heart, and the tears in her eyes that threaten to spill at any moment.

Just when she thought all hope was lost. She heard the click of the door, and snapped her head to attention, but she wasn't expecting what walked through.

Instead of the confident, laid back leader that she was used to, she saw a drunken, bloody, and disheveled mess staggering through the door.

"Arisato! Where have you- "She stopped once she saw his bruised, tear stricken face. Taken aback by his appearance and lack of control in his steps.

"S-senpai, I…" Minato didn't really have anything to say. He saw the hurt look in her eyes and the shocked look on her face. It only made his pain worse.

Mitsuru held back her tears once more, and instead grabbed the boy by his arms and carried him to the couch.

"Let me see those wounds." She said, trying to compose herself, but she couldn't. The tears that she had been holding back finally spilled once she saw how he avoided her gaze and smelled his alcohol ridden breath. She was angry, hurt, and confused.

"So, this is where you were, huh? Getting into fights and drowning you sorrows inside a bottle? Are you happy with yourself, Arisato?" She wanted to sound intimidating. To sound ruthless, but she couldn't manage it. She was too hurt. Her voice was shaky at best, and she couldn't manage to glare at the boy without feeling a pang of guilt and sadness.

"I'm sorry." Every word that Minato managed was slurred.

Mitsuru used her Persona's healing spells to close most of the cuts and fix the bruises.

"I'm sorry, Mitsuru-san. What I did was shameful, stupid, and I regret my actions." Minato's apology seemed half-sorry at best. It was rehearsed, she could tell, despite his heavy slurring.

"Minato…. Why? Why didn't you let us… let me… help you?" That's what hurt the most for her. He didn't trust her enough to confide in her. She stroked his face where the bruises and cuts used to be.

"it's not that…. It's just… I can't afford to be weak… in front of you." Minato refused to meet her gaze. He knew how much it had to hurt. To believe the trust they had was one sided.

"We are a team, Minato… We help each other. It's not your fault this happened. You don't deserve this…" Mitsuru was letting her tears flow freely now. There was nothing she could do to stop them now.

"It's my fault… all of this…" Minato had sobered a bit, and managed to finally look Mitsuru in the eyes.

"No, no it's not. Don't do this to yourself. You had no control over it." Mitsuru's amber eyes were pleading with him.

Minato could only cry more in return. His attempt at self-help only ended in hurting the person he loved the most.

And that hurt more than the realization of a World Ending catastrophe.

In that moment, he realized all the pain and anxiety he caused her. He saw how her eyes glistened with tears and her hands shook in a mixture of anger and pain.

"Mitsuru, I- "Minato was cut off by a warm, passionate kiss. He could taste the raspberry lipstick she wore. His hands moved to her waist and she pinned him to the couch. She straddled his waist and continued their passionate ordeal.

By the time they finally broke apart, they were both gasping for breath.

"I love you, Mitsuru." Minato was blushing profusely, but managed to meet her gaze.

"I love you too," She bent down again and kissed him again, "My fool."

For the first time that day, Minato managed a genuine smile.