Hello hello!! I finally worked up enough energy to begin a semi-long fanfic. This time, though, I decided to throw in my own character!! Woot!! I had to write it in third person though, so it probably needs some work, since I enjoy writing in first person for some reason. Anyway, hopefully she'll be a likable character. I don't describe her too much in the beginning chapters, but I will later on. =) Also, I'm not Japanese, so please forgive me if I make any mistakes when it comes to the suffixes!! I'm sorry!! *bows* Anywho...
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this snazzy game. I did however create my own character, so I OWN HER. MWAHAHAHAHA XD
Chapter 1: Strawberry
July 14, 1998
". . . Why? . . . Why am I unable to do this?" she thought to herself. "If only I could . . . Maybe others won't have to go through this pain as well . . . " She was strapped to a cold, metal table with lights, blindingly bright. The test wires and probes attached to her skin itched like fire ants. The people at the lab simply saw her as a test subject without a second thought. But, one person always showed some form of concern toward her. The person was a little redheaded girl. Her hair was curly, and every time she saw the little girl's hair, it reminded her of strawberries.
"The test results are negative," stated a scientist a few feet away from her. "There's not a high chance of survival. If she does make it, her Persona won't be formed."
A man in a definitive black tuxedo approached the group of scientists. He carried himself with an astute presence – when he entered a room, all eyes were on him. "So, it's a failure," he mumbled, a hint of unknown worry seeping into his voice. He looked at the researches with his left eye, since his right was covered with a black eyepatch. "All right then, my daughter will be the new subject." He grimaced as he called his daughter into the room. When the little redhead walked in, the scientists took the other girl off the metal table.
"It's that girl again, that strawberry-haired girl . . . ," she thought. She fell to the tile floor after the straps had been unbuckled. "They're going to replace me . . . with her?!" The redhead smiled at the girl and hesitantly climbed onto the metal table.
"I'm ready, Father," the little girl whispered to herself. Her father whispered back, "It'll be okay, Mitsuru."
Crying that she had finally been released, the other girl, clothed in rags, was taken from the room. She was dragged through white hallway after white hallway. Lastly, she was brought into a room and was left there by herself. "Persona," she mumbled hoarsely, "why won't it appear? Am I so useless, that the purpose that I'm living for is nothing any more?! I couldn't even help Strawberry Curls . . . " The six-year-old began to sob.
"Sheena, my child, you disappoint me. You completely embarrassed me!! You stupid, worthless child!!" screamed a tall, lean man who had entered the room. His glasses were so pressed into his nose that they looked painful to wear. His black hair was unusually messy and fell in clumps above his eyes. His face showed a haughtiness that seemed eternally placed there, with his straight back a sign of pride.
Sheena stood unmoving and absorbed being berated by her father. Her focus was on the ground as her father circled her, still yelling. He pulled at the tie around his neck as if it was choking him and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt so that he could get some oxygen to his brain.
"I'm sorry, Father . . .," Sheena said in a routine voice. "I know that I'm a disappointment to you, and I will continue to strive for your appreciation and pride." The tears in her eyes began to fade away.
A knock at the door sounded, and a woman with sharp features entered. She was slim, and her face showed that she got little sleep at night. Her rust-colored hair was held in a bun, but strands of it escaped like secrets from a loose-lipped female. The green emeralds that were her eyes zoned in on Sheena, whose face showed little emotion anymore. "Dr. Takai, we have gained important data from the recent experiments. We can resume our own side-project in secret at the manor."
A smile cracked the statue's face, and he left abruptly. The woman took a few steps closer to the girl; with each step, her glare intensified. "I can't tell which one of you I hate more–," she spat, "your sister, or you. Ugh, both of you are such pitiful, insignificant children. I'm ashamed to have ever given birth to either of you!" She faced away from the trembling six-year-old. She clenched her fists, left the room, and slammed the door.
Sheena stared at the door that led to the outside, that led to her freedom. She exhaled. With her new-found determination bottled inside of her, she flung the door open. Poking her head out, she checked to see if anyone was around. When she deduced that the coast was clear, she bolted out of the room.
All of the whiteness formed a labyrinth. After taking a few blocks, she realized that she was lost. She never knew where she was going, and she no longer knew how to get back to the room. Confused and alone, she leaned her back against the wall. As she slid down to the ground, she started to cry. As she sat there with her head buried in her knees, footsteps approached her. She didn't noticed them, even when they stopped right next to her.
"Excuse me, but are you all right?" came a concerned voice. Sheena looked up to see the girl with strawberry curls standing next to her. "Well? Are you?" she asked again. After waiting for an answer, a pout crossed her face.
"Uh-uh," she whispered, sobs breaking her voice. "I'm lost . . . and I can't find my way out of here . . ."
The red-head smiled. "Well, if that's the case, then I can show you the way," she said, stretching out a hand to Sheena. Accepting it, Sheena stood up and bashfully smiled at her. "I know the way very well since I travel these halls a bunch since my father runs this organization." The little girl began walking toward the opposite way that she came. Sheena followed closely behind her.
"So," started Sheena, "your father is my father's boss, right? That'd make you Mr. Kirijo's daughter . . ." Sheena stopped suddenly. She bowed reverently to girl. "Sorry, I didn't introduce myself. My name's Sheena Takai. Both of my parents work for your dad."
"Oh, well, I'm Mitsuru Kirijo," she said politely. They resumed their walking as they talked about the random things that floated through their childish minds. They entered a long hallway with a large door at the end.
"Is that the exit?" Sheena asked eagerly. Mitsuru nodded, an air of gloom surrounded her. Sheena noticed it. "What's wrong? Does your tummy hurt, Mitsuru-chan?"
Mitsuru let out a tiny giggle. "That's not it. I was just thinking that I might not get to talk to you much anymore since I'll be busy with the training my father has me going through." Sheena flinched and looked away.
"That's right," she thought, "she replaced me . . ." She sighed and faced Mitsuru. "I know!" she exclaimed. "Maybe we'll both go to the same school, and we can be in the same class!" She paused. "Wait . . . how old are you?"
Surprised, Mitsuru answered, "I'm seven, and you?"
"That won't work," she said soberly. "I'm six. So even if we did go to the same school, we wouldn't be in the same grade." Voices came from down the hall to their right. Two adult males were talking about the gravity of being able to wield a Persona. "I have to go now so I don't get caught. Hopefully we'll get to talk again!" Sheena smiled and ran towards the door. While running, she turned her head around, showing a broad grin, and casually waved at the redheaded girl. "Bye, Strawberry Curls!!" she shouted loud enough for Mitsuru to hear, but quiet enough so that the men couldn't hear it.
Mitsuru blushed at her new nickname. "Goodbye, Sheena-chan!" she called out after her. "Next time, I'll have a nickname for you, too!" Sheena gave her a thumbs-up before reaching the door and leaving.
Mesh Monster: Aww... Kid friendship is SOOOO cute!! 3
*coughcough* An-tyway, I know it's probably starting off boring, but I'm working on it. I mean, I do have to do background stories and whatnot. Plus, as I mentioned before, I'm not too good at writing in third person, which is partly why I'm writing this so that maybe I can get better!! *superhero pose*
If there's anything that you think I need to work on, please feel free to tell me. I'd enjoy any form of feedback, just tell me what you think. I take everything with open arms.
*bus comes towards MoMo* MoMo: BUS, COME TO MEEEEE!!! *arms open*
