Disclaimer: I don't own Persona.

Warning:
 The beginning of this chapter is a bit more M-rated than T.

So, I've kind of taken this to a different level than I thought possible for this story and myself, but I thought I'd go with it. Why stop creativity when it weaves itself? I hope it doesn't tarnish what you liked about the story, but I think you'll understand why it happens, and I think you'll know it happens all the time to people.

Well, enough from me. Go ahead and read! :)

The Night to Remember

Chapter Ten:

Supreme

At that moment, fire had never felt so good; those wild, animal instincts had never come to life. As his hand drew circles around her waist, her thighs, and eventually her chest, Mitsuru felt something roar inside the pit of her soul, and as she panted and moaned at his touch, she very much enjoyed this new monster within her.

Akihiko was grunting, and with his rough, ragged breaths and hard, hungry kisses, the redheaded senpai thought she would lose all control at that very moment. It was a kind of bliss that she had read very much about but had never experienced for herself. It had the adrenaline equivalent of facing a Shadow in Tartarus, but with the erotic excitement and temptation, it was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Her own hands were ensnarled in the soft, sweaty mess of his beautiful silver hair, and her tongue flicked eagerly against the wet surface of his. There was something there, something sour and strong, but she had been waiting so long that she couldn't even stop to think. When she had kissed him before, it had been gentle and sweet; when she was kissed by him this time, it was greedy and dangerous. She felt herself lean closer and closer to him, and in turn, she felt him grab her tighter. She rather liked the way he squeezed her body. They were millimeters apart now, and with the blinding swirl of ecstasy, Mitsuru slowly released her hold on his hair and moved down to that special area of his belt.

There was a booming pound as he threw her against the wall, nearly knocking the breath out of her.

"Akihiko," she moaned, surfacing to gaze at his beaded face as he shoved himself against her and hitched her dress up, "Why are we –"

"Shut up, Mitsuru," he growled, fumbling with her nylons as he tried to undo his belt at the same time. Staring at him and at the focused, wild expression on his grizzled face, a cold sense of doubt trickled through Mitsuru's system.

He successfully pulled her nylons down, and he then proceeded to tackle the tight fit of her underwear. Chills erupted down Mitsuru's spine as his fingers brushed the soft surface of her buttocks.

But as he tore those off and then pushed her dress up until it was just out of the way, he didn't even look or stop to stare into her eyes. His body held her into place, and he finished undoing his belt and then proceeded to pull out his equipment, that sour smell wafting through Mitsuru's nostrils. Looking down, Mitsuru saw it at its full form; looking up at Akihiko, she saw the face of something completely different than her fantasies had imagined.

He bullied her frame up and spread her legs with a rough shove, and with his breaths quick and heavy, his abdomen twitched forward and up as he leaned in for the initial plunge.

And then she punched him. Hard.

Blood squirted from his nose as he tripped backwards from the wall, his hands moving to clutch his face. Lines dripped down his cheeks and into his mouth, and with his body in full peak and full exposure, he looked right up into her eyes, his expression human for the first time.

"Mitsuru, what are you –"

"You don't mean it," she whispered, a tear pooling at the corner of her right eye. "It's just a game to you; I'm just a prize. I could tell by the way you were crawling over Hana; I can tell by the stench of alcohol on your breath. You're just like every other man I've ever encountered."

At that moment, a high-pitched feminine voice squealed "Akihiko Sanada! They saw you run in here, and I'm coming in!"

And just like that, with Mitsuru's face a mesh of tears while she frantically tried pulling down her dress and with Akihiko wiping the blood from his face with his manhood out and strong, Hana burst into the bathroom.

Her eyes straying to Akihiko's lower front, his bloodied face, and most strikingly at Mitsuru and her uncharacteristic show of weakness and exploitation, Hana stopped, and with a giant sniff of rage and hysterics, she left the yellow-tiled room.

Minato flew in, and with his eyes also absorbing the scene, his face grew haggard and stark as he jumped on Akihiko and sent him sprawling to the ground, now with a bloody mouth. Mitsuru watched this scene from her corner against the walls, and with every passing second, she began to feel increasingly violated and exposed as she finally came to terms with what happened.

Yukari came next, a blur of pale pink, and the redness of Mitsuru's hair filled into the junior's cheeks as she too took in the scene and the evidence.

Without a word, she gathered Mitsuru's undergarments and then came to her senpai's side, gently pulling her forward and then guiding her to a toilet stall. Her knees shaking, Mitsuru followed Yukari's guidance and locked herself into the stall, slowly refiguring her attire.

While locked inside the stall and temporarily isolated from the event and the characters, she felt that utterly weak and pathetic feeling well inside of her. She felt it rise and mature until it was at the very tip of her mouth.

It's okay, said that voice. It was always there. It's okay. You can cry.

Ignoring every rule she had ever given herself, every principle she had tried to uphold, Mitsuru opened the door, looked in the anxious eyes of Yukari, and let out a single, summarizing cry.

The brunette opened her arms, and Mitsuru fell into them. More whines and gurgles erupted from the redhead's throat, and as she stood there, awkwardly embraced by her underclassman, it was alright.

Given the circumstances, it was okay.

"We'll let the school authorities deal with him," came a quiet growl from the darkness. Looking up, Mitsuru saw Minato leaning against the wall of the scene, his pale eyes hard. "And since it's you, Senpai, you know it'll get taken care of; you know it'll work out."

Moving to stand away on her own, her amber-brown eyes still wet with tears and emotions she never thought fathomable, she turned to look down at the silver-haired boxing champion.

His face was beaten and his nose still bled as he lay there in the opposite corner of the room, weeping. His tux was ripped open and his tie had been seemingly used as a weapon, and the more she gazed at him, the more Mitsuru felt something rise into the pit of her stomach.

As if in a dream, Mitsuru moved over to his side, bending down. His swollen right eye darted up to meet hers, and for a moment, it was wild with a desperate fear.

But much to everyone's surprise, Mitsuru extended out her arm, slowly cupping the corner of his face.

"I understand," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible. "I really think I do."

Minato and Yukari whispered furiously to each other, but Mitsuru ignored them. "You didn't know what to make of it, Aki. I surprised you, and you'd been drinking."

His body still tense, Akihiko let out a groan. Mitsuru continued to peer into his eyes, and she placed her hand on the small of his back. She felt it shiver.

"I love you, Akihiko," she murmured, lost in his intent gray gaze. "And at some level, I know that you love me too."

The whispering behind her turned to protests, but Mitsuru carried on. "I think I've always loved you."

As she stood up, her entire body shaking once again, she looked over at Minato and Yukari. "No one is to hear of is. I daresay Hana will do enough damage on her own."

Her eyes wide, Yukari nodded, her gaze flickering from Mitsuru to Akihiko. Minato, meanwhile, moved to stand in front of Mitsuru. His eyes weren't as obedient and mild.

"I can't believe you," he snarled. "After all he's put you through, all of the stress, all of your emotions, and now this, you're just going to pretend that none of it happened? You're going to go back to your perfect Kirijo life?"

"You wouldn't understand, Aristao," said Mitsuru. Her voice was cold. "This isn't about a petty image or a cute love story. It's something more, and I'm sorry to say that it's none of your business."

His eyes blazing, Minato's nose twitched, and he then ripped the flower off his tux and threw it at the ground. "Last time I try to help you."

Yukari followed him out, and Mitsuru was left to stare in their direction, her eyes once again unreadable and distant.

"Mit..su." She looked over to the boy on the ground. He had turned so that he was sort of facing her, and his eyes were glazed from the alcohol yet drastically different.

Saying nothing, she went over to the closest friend she's ever had and pulled him up, taking care not to pressure his sore spots. She quickly zipped up his pants and looped his belt before taking a paper towel and mopping his crusted face.

All the while, he merely watched her, his eyes expressionless.

After she removed his tie and straightened his jacket, she tucked her arm around his. "Let's get you back to the dorm." No one was around when she opened the door.

As they snuck around the back and headed towards the dimmed lights of the city, Mitsuru shivered from the cold night's air, and Akihiko limped along beside her.

When they finally reached the corner of their destination, no one was around again. Once inside the dorm, they found it empty.

The lights were dimmed and the air was warm as Mitsuru strolled over to her usual armchair, a thickly-bound book in her hands. Akihiko slumped ahead of her, and he sat down on the adjacent sofa, continuing to watch her.

After several minutes, he slowly moved his hand over to her free hand. He took it into his own. Her heart beating and the warmth of his skin raging through her senses, Mitsuru squeezed gently, and she lowered her book.

He was watching her, but this time, his expression was neither wild nor blank. He wore a true mask of tears and regret, and as amber-brown met gray, an odd softness entered their realms.

Nothing was said, and nothing had to be. As the hours ticked by, they held each other's hands, and in the most bittersweet way, it was the night to remember for all eternity.

Clear, cliche ending, but...? Maybe...? Please review! Let me know how the whole story went!