A/N: Hello! Thank you for the review(s), favourites, and follows! I honestly didn't expect anyone to be interested in this. I really enjoyed playing Persona 5, and given that I have completed it twice, I got attached to the characters. I hope that I'm not ruining the game for you guys. And yes, my writing is mediocre at best, so that's why, I welcome constructive criticism. But please go easy on me (I'm a poor sensitive little soul). This is my first time writing, hope I have the strength to go on!

Disclaimer : I do not own persona 5!

Beginnings Arc;

Chapter 2

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"Young lady, Explain this instant!" The tone Kiyoko was using was nothing less than unpleasant.

Kotone had wished breakfast would go as usual, more casual even. She had successfully avoided an encounter with her mother the day before, but this one was inevitable. Realistically, her decision would drive her mother, who tried as hard as possible to present Kiyoko as a very neat and well-mannered young woman, nuts.

"Let her be dear," Daisuke countered, and Kotone couldn't be more grateful; she didn't intend to respond in anyway to her mother. "She's young and has the right."

Damn right, she had the right. But that was something her mother failed to comprehend.

"But you are still under my care, therefore you are still under my control." Kiyoko paced back and forth, rendering Kotone of a quiet and peaceful breakfast. "Just imagine what they would think to see you so different from how I was. Classical music doesn't have anybody the looks like you!"

At that, Kotone couldn't hold it in herself. Yes, she respected her mother and wanted nothing other than making her proud. She had thought that Kiyoko would support her as long as she stayed in music, but the thought was proven to be wrong with her mother's words. Yet another thing her mother failed to understand was that, "I'm not you!"

Kotone stood, chair screeching back and fell ungracefully to the floor. Her mother's nostrils flared in anger, a comical scene that she would've laughed at if the anger wasn't directed to her, which was exactly the case this time. Realizing that she had just yelled to her mother, Kotone covered her mouth, regretting the deed she had done. She was ashamed, but was to hurt by the words that was directed to her to say sorry.

"Thank you for the meal." She whispered, looking down and refusing to meet the eyes in the room. Kotone then quickly went to the door to put on her shoes, intending to go to school rather than staying and shrivelling in the tension.

"Kotone!"

She could faintly hear her father calling out to her, obvious concern in his voice. But she left without another word. She still couldn't grasp why her mother was so upset over such a trivial thing. She knew the reason, she just didn't understand.

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History of music was one of the most boring classes that Kotone had. She gave herself the liberty to stare out the window, drowning the voice of her teacher in the background. She didn't feel like listening today anyway.

It had been established since she was little that Kotone loved art, and had a talent for it. And that stayed true, she loved art as a whole, not exclusive to music. But seeing her mother's love to it and with her mother's influence, she grew more in that part, and learned to choose it above other arts. That didn't mean her interest in arts in general diminished.

Music, though, had seeped into her bones, it was an essential part of her life. She was awestruck with how music evolved throughout the years, along with those who make them. And she, herself, wanted to be a part of that. Not that she was addressing Classical Music as un-evolving and static, she didn't want to stick to the norms: the traditional ways.

"Kotone!" A voice drawled out, note too familiar for her to not know who was calling her. She spared the, unnatural, redhead a glance, noting the impish grin she had. An eyebrow rose in question, Mana was giddier than usual.

"I love your hair!" She complimented, eyes glancing up towards her lilac hair. "It suits you."

From all her experience with people, she could tell Mana was genuine; no intention behind any of her words. She couldn't help the swell in her heart at someone accepting her change. She was touched.

"Thank you." Her voice trembled a tiny bit, a detail that Mana didn't miss

Mana frowned for a moment at her, her gaze contemplating and then she returned her grin. Mana always knew Kotone, and sometimes she hated the girl for it, because she was more comfortable with keeping things to herself. But sometimes, sometimes having a friend that understood didn't hurt.

"Gotta keep up with the class, right?" Kotone tried her best to give a small smile to her friend, she didn't want to be seen as weak.

The redhead nodded enthusiastically, and Kotone couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her mouth at her friend's expression.

"Let's eat after school."

It was a rare occurrence for the two of them to eat together, considering Kotone was busy enough, heeding her mother's tutors. This time, she needed some distance and time away from her, and the heartfelt offer was very tempting, considering the fact that Mana probably knew something was troubling her.

A few hours passed and the bell rang, signifying the end of most students' miseries. There was an underlying feeling of worry as they took the train ride to Shibuya, Kotone wasn't ready to come home, yet she still had to do it. Where else would she stay? And if she did not come home, her mother's wrath would be more bloated and even worse.

There was a small diner in downtown Shibuya, one that Mana seemed to prefer for a cup of coffee and reading. The food wasn't half-bad, according to the redhead, and since Mana was treating her, Kotone took it to herself to let her friend decide. This was, after all, Mana's attempt on cheering her up.

"So," Mana started, stirring her milkshake with the straw, while waiting for their food to come. "Have you submitted the form for the Interest Exchange class?"

The waitress came with their, or to be exact, Mana's food. And Kotone waited for her to leave, muttering a small 'thank you' to her, before answering.

"Yes, I have, just this morning." She nodded. Kotone thought for a second, whether she should tell Mana that she broke their little agreement. But then again, she should; Kotone would not risk her friend freaking out in the middle of the class, wondering why she wasn't there. "I'm joining Fine Arts."

"What?!" The spoon clattered harshly on Mana's plate, the food scattered back onto the plate ungracefully, failing to reach her mouth. A few customers stared towards their table - towards Mana - at the sound, clearly surprised about the outburst. Onyx eyes darted around, the redness of her cheeks indicated shame moments later, and she apologized for the commotion.

Then in a much quieter voice, closer to a whisper, Mana continued, disappointment coating every word. "I thought you were taking Poetry with me?"

Frankly Kotone felt bad, they both had agreed on the matter a week ago, but this time she wanted to be a little bit selfish for herself. She sipped her tea and gave Mana a sympathetic look, she had no excuse for herself. "Sorry, just had a change of heart."

"You don't have a change of heart out of nowhere." Mana gave Kotone a scrutinizing look, the gears turning in her head to search Kotone for something. "Something happened, I'm assuming?"

Kotone ignored her, and opted for her tea, only to find it had ran out. Guess she had no means of distraction. Still, she provided no answer.

"Or is this your form of rebellion towards your mother?" She snickered, raising an eyebrow quirkily. "Like your hair."

She hadn't considered that, but maybe, in a way, it was. Unconsciously, maybe she had made the decision out spite towards her mother's demands. Kiyoko had strongly recommended poetry to help her with lyrics. The Interest Exchange classes exist to help students with their final projects, as a way to garner extra skills or inspirations, everything was up to the student. And also, to fill the significantly less busy last month of the year.

Yet, what Mana said had hit close to home.

"Well, maybe." Kotone shrugged, strands of her hair brushed her shoulder.

Mana hummed, taking the answer to consideration. "That's not it. It's probably what's bothering you—your mother, i mean—but i think this time, that's not the case."

"What could possibly be a greater push for me other than my mother?" She wanted to keep her little encounter with an artist a secret. In the future, she would tell Mana, if it resulted in something fruitful. Considering that, she would probably never tell her.

"Hm… " Mana tapped her chin, creating the illusion she was deep in thought, in reality she was just probably thinking of something dumb. "A boy, maybe?"

"B-boy?" Kotone spluttered, was she that readable?

"But there aren't many boys in Fine Arts." She grinned, almost, maniacally. "Then… a girl?!"

Kotone blinked, once, twice. "Mana, that's not it!" Her eyebrows twitched in irritation. No. She didn't like having a friend that knew her, a friend that knew which buttons to push.

Mana cackled. Most of the time, the redhead's quirkiness surpasses her own, and Kotone, who considered herself quite tolerant to quirky antics, sometimes had enough.

"Fine then Miss Magic Points, I'm leaving." She stood up, fully intending to bluff on leaving her.

"Oh, come on! We haven't even had dessert yet."

Whatever Mana had planned, it succeeded. Kotone laughed gleefully at her friend's brooding face as she tripped her on the way down the stairs. Mana didn't prod, she didn't need to. The most important thing was, Kotone was back with that stupid smile she always wore.

And as punishment for teasing her, Kotone decided they would go to a museum, where she could ignore Mana in all her musings.

"You look like a little kid when admiring paintings." That, for the most part, was true. She readied her notebook to take notes, of emotions on the paintings. And they were on their way off.

On the way home, Mana grumbled about how she would attend the poetry classes with no friends. Kotone could only pat her head in pity, smiling in amusement.

She came home that night.

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Yusuke Kitagawa found himself, yet again, alone in the back of the arts room. Soon students who had chosen Fine Arts for the Interest Exchange class would join them, and the teacher was instructing them on how they should help them. Yusuke didn't bother, he was sure that no one would try to approach him anyway, and the same went for him; he wouldn't approach them. Maybe he just had that aura.

He fetched his sketchbook, starting to roughly sketch an idea for his final project. He didn't know yet what he would paint, the expression he was trying to achieve -beauty, as always- but the object was still up for debate. Or perhaps this time, he would simply express beauty through strokes; no object.

Consumed by ideas and thoughts, Yusuke failed to realize that the program began and that the students had arrived. A flourish of lilac moving towards him caught his attention, a student had took the seat closest to him, huh, a surprise. Vaguely familiar, the girl smiled up at him, and Yusuke wondered where he had seen the girl. Then he remembered, the lilac hair served a big change, but her face and eyes were unmistakable - he had a pretty good photographic memory. Kotone Wakana.

He still didn't know what to do in terms of this encounters, and stayed silent and waited.

"Kitagawa-kun?" She asked, but sounded like she was testing the words as it rolled out of her mouth.

"Wakana-san, correct?" He nodded, as he regarded her, along with the new appearance. "Your hair is quite… intriguing." The comment was probably unnecessary, and he suddenly found himself worried if it had offended her. A foreign worry that he didn't like.

An almost nonchalant smile formed on her lips as she glanced at her shoulder-length lilac hair, her eyes stayed for a few moments before glancing back at him. "I guess it is."

Yusuke didn't know what kind of answer was that. And she seemed quite different from the student he had met a week ago.

The class then proceeded with a lecture from the teacher, regarding emotional ties between a painter and their painting. It went on for quite a bit, before the whole class was instructed to sketch an outline of a painting, with the specific instruction for it to be conveying the emotions they were currently feeling. A basic and general class, specifically presented for the newcomers sitting amongst the class.

It didn't need to be questioned, Yusuke was accustomed to the topic, and had started his sketch days before, only for most of them to be scrapped. Right now, an abstract painting was probably his best choice, since he rarely did it and it would be a surprise to the teachers - he hoped the element of surprise would raise his scores. His only hesitation was that: a big portion of the general public wouldn't appreciate, or rather, wouldn't understand the weight behind his strokes.

He faintly acknowledge people scrambling to form groups, but focused on his own predicament. Though, a student seemed very insistent to accompany him. A chair, yet again, was pulled up beside him, not long after the lilac haired student occupied it.

"Have you started working on your final project?" That was the one thing the divisions had in common; the final system.

Yusuke was silent for a moment. This was the first time, a person had took the effort to talk to him more than twice. A part of him was wary of Kotone's hidden intention—if there was any—but a part of him couldn't help the excitement from, possibly, gaining a friend. "Yes. But I haven't been able to progress further apart from the expression."

"And what is that?" Kotone asked, fiddling with her pencil, the gesture creating slight scratches on the sketchbook she brought.

"Beauty." He nodded, confirming it, he realized, both for her and for himself. "I believe you know of Sayuri; my master's painting." Kotone tilted her head for a millisecond, then affirmed that; yes, she knew, with a slight dip of her head. "It has been my goal for a long time to capture beauty in the same way as it does."

Kotone went silent for a few heartbeats. With her brows furrowed, Yusuke could only deduce the expression as disagreement. Not long after, his brows mirrored hers.

"Is something the matter?" He asked.

Kotone shook her head. "Nothing… it's just, beauty is such a shallow thing to pursue." She scratched

Yusuke drew a sharp breath. She was just conveying her opinion, he knew, but that didn't stop the growing irritation in the corner of his heart. Yes, he had asked himself a couple of times about his pursuit, whether it was worth his time and effort, and he had come to a conclusion that: yes, it was worth everything he had done and would do. Many shared his view of Sayuri as a great achievement in art, and that beauty was something worth creating, and seeking for.

He knew he should ask for her reason, shared both of their views, then engage in a meaningful banter that would, probably, broaden both of their knowledge—like any artist would have. Nobody in the right mind would not be offended when one of their greatest goal and motivation was regarded as shallow.

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Kotone knew, the moment after her last words came out of her mouth, that she made a mistake. The usually charming face of one Yusuke Kitagawa was twisted into an offended frown, and the withdrawal of himself the conversation did not make it any better.

Her mouth parted as she tried to choke out her explanation, that she didn't mean to mock or offend him in any way, but nothing came out—seeing that Yusuke didn't want to engage with her any further. Painfully so, he turned away from her and returned his focus towards his sketchbook, frown still sculpted in his features.

"Sorry…" It came out as a whisper, but even if it didn't, he would probably not hear it anyway.

She kept to herself for the rest of the class, sulking away in the back, and went home directly after.

With the deadline of her final project three weeks away, she wouldn't have time to deal with Yusuke if the relationship didn't work. Or maybe she did, but chose not to dwell on it. He didn't have a reason to forgive her, and she, herself, didn't exactly know how to make peace with him.

In reality, she didn't know much about Yusuke—this was only their second time meeting—and she blew her chance away. And asking his friends was out of option, as she saw that none of his classmates had a semblance of closeness to him.

If, maybe, she could finish her assignment quickly, just maybe, she could spare some time to think of some way and make time to apologise. The fear that it would interfere with his studies gnawed on the decision, and she abandoned it. The next option was to do it in the new school year, but that would be quite a long time, that he would probably not care about being friends with her anymore.

As the over-thinker she was, she found it hard a later at home, when she mulled over her project, to keep the thought of it away. Regret was a powerful emotion, one that she hadn't captured in her works yet. And she had an inkling what to do with it—an artist's work represents their inner turmoil, after all. Rarely she took a negative emotion forward as the moving part in her songs; maybe it was about time to.