Just in time for October the Fourth, I managed to get my very first Persona fic up. I've been trying to come up with something since I started playing P4, and then got P3P in July. All of August and September were spent trying to come up with something, and then I came up with this. c:

I'm big into using lyrics for stories, and when I realized how many songs could apply to Shinjiro and the FeMC, it was perfect. So, here you have it. The vignettes don't go in any particular order, and can really jump around in rating. I'm putting it as T just to be safe.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Shin Megami Tensei / Persona franchise. I also don't own any songs used in this ongoing fiction as they belong to their respective writers and performers. I'm just eternally a fan. :(


Movement One - Soul Meets Body by Death Cab for Cutie


But if the silence takes you

Then I hope it takes me too

So, brown eyes, I'll hold you near

Because you're the only song I want to hear

A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere


Minako traced invisible lines across Shinjiro's bare chest, making nondescript patterns against his skin as he laid there, a silently-breathing, unmoving canvas. One arm encircled her shoulders, the other dangling limply off the side of the bed. His eyes were half-open, almost closed from exhaustion but still open for his dire need to be with her. In a little less than twenty-four hours, it would be over, which he cursed himself for accepting without even figuring in his capability to still love. And now it had come to this, with the girl of his dreams pressed against him, her hair undone and brushing against his right side whenever she moved, her breathing soft and even and like music to his ears, touching him after proving how much she loved him not even an hour ago. Suddenly, Fate had gone from reasonable and fair to undeniably cruel, in the matter of weeks.

Her tracing stopped, her hand sliding over his abdomen to hang over him in a half-embrace, her face now turned to be buried into the crook of his neck. A small sigh escaped her, a hum trailing the exhalation. He couldn't help but smile, turning over onto his side to hold her properly, the previously dangling arm now laying claim over a sheet-covered hip, otherwise bare. Even in the limited light, he could see her smile, eyes closed and face turned away in a movement so maidenly that it was almost impossible to think that he had stolen that innocence during the course of the night. No, not stolen. She had given it to him, practically forcing it into his hands, eyes not so much pleading as they were demanding and insistent. He had damned that look, praying during the whole duration of September that it would never come to this, and of course, it did. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist if she wanted such a thing, and the moment her hands were running through his hair, and when he first felt the skin under that uniform, he knew that going back was impossible, as she had taken far too many steps forward... though perhaps not in the right direction.

"...What are you thinking about?" she suddenly murmured, her voice just a whisper of sound as though anything louder would shatter the peace that they had for so short a time.

For a long moment, he was quiet and still. Then, he gently kissed the top of her head and smiled down at her. "You," he answered.

The laugh that escaped her was soft and earnest, sounding sweet in the warm silence of his room. "Me," she replied, tilting her head up to look him in the eyes. Even in the lunar light, hardly enough to illustrate that undeniable beauty he often stole glances at, she was still exquisite, eyes just as vibrant red as usual and skin rendered to a shade reserved for the most expensive porcelain.

"Yes, you," he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face and then stealing a momentary kiss. They both smiled at the action, and instantly, she nuzzled up under his jaw, sighing contently. "And what about you?" he asked. "What were you thinking about?"

There was no moment of silence from her. "You," she said immediately. "What else can I think about?"

There was plenty, he inwardly thought. There was so much to think about, to dread, to anticipate. There was a world out there that was unfair, and an unseen force rendering all that they knew into unrecognizable pieces. So much to think about, and yet her thoughts were almost clear. Save for him, and him for her. It was as though everything they had done in the night had built up some kind of protective barrier around the room, banning all negativity they had faced daily. He had hardly even noticed that the Dark Hour had taken place as at the time, he was far too consumed with nails running down his back with pleasurably hot stinging, and warm lips pressed against his neck and chest, with soft moans interwoven into it all. By the time that all life had resumed around them, they were still in the same moment, in love with each other beyond any sort of compare, unhindered by the ebb and flow of time.

She stirred suddenly, inching her way up so that they were face to face once again. The smile on her face was something he had grown familiar with, as one of undeniable loyalty and attachment to him, and he to her. One hand moved up from his torso to the side of his face, her fingers just barely touching his skin, ghosting over each nerve ending with the force of a fallen leaf. Her thumb made a curved movement just under his left eye, as though she was taking in every detail of him through feeling. "I..." she began, her voice impossibly soft, the whisper just a trace of noise easily mistaken for a breeze outside. Gazing at him a moment longer, she leaned forward and kissed him gently, pulling away with an expression now so passionate that he could feel himself stirring once again in every artery, vein and capillary. "I love you," she finally said, and it was all he needed to hear.