Persona: Defiance of Fate Chapter XXI: Riding the Storm Out, a persona series fanfic

Thursday, September 10th, 2009, Evening

Minato had only just stepped inside the dorm, closing the door securely behind him, when his pocket emitted a familiar piano tune. Recognizing the ring tone at once—indeed, having been expecting the call—he didn't bother checking the number before putting his cell to his ear. "Yeah, Arisato."

No mistaking the amused chuckle on the other end. "Yes, of course. This is Elizabeth—but you already knew that, didn't you? Just as you know what I'm going to tell you now."

Of course he knew. Like clockwork, the past few months; just another bit of the routine that had lulled him into the dangerous, very much false sense of security this past month had finally knocked him out of. "Wouldn't happen to be related to my favorite labyrinth, would it?"

Elizabeth chuckled again. "As ever, Minato, you keep on top of things. Yes, the path before you in Tartarus should be open. How far it will take you now, I can't say, but I'm sure you'll conquer the new challenges as well as you have the past." She paused. "Assuming, that is, that you're well enough. Have your injuries healed sufficiently, now?"

"Thanks in part to yours and Igor's advice, yes." Mitsuru had, finally, been forced to concede that they couldn't afford not to use Persona's prodigious capacity for healing, regardless of potential side effects down the road. The stakes were simply too high, between the strength of the Full Moon Shadows and the unexpected threat of Strega.

Fortunately, so far it was looking like Mitsuru's fears had been groundless. Between his improvised FAE the previous month and being beaten half to death by Strega, Minato had required a fair bit of immediate healing even before the most recent operation, and so far no side effects had been noticed.

Not that I blame Senpai for being worried, if I'm right about how her exposure to Persona began. If the scars I saw mean what I think they do, it's no wonder she's so cautious.

"That's excellent news," Elizabeth was saying now. "In that case, my Master will likely want to see you soon, to begin exploring the other possibilities that were discussed the last time you visited."

"I'll put it on my schedule," Minato promised, mentally consulting with Pixie to work that out. Useful, sometimes, having sapient fragments of his subconscious to keep track of his social calendar. "Is there anything else, Elizabeth?"

"Not at the moment, no. I would simply like to wish you a safe journey. I look forward to seeing you again in the Velvet Room soon, my friend."

The call disconnected before Minato could properly react to that last statement, and he was left looking at his phone in bemusement. "I'll never figure that girl out," he murmured. "Always has to get the last word…"

The story of your life, Master, Pixie said sympathetically. Tsu-chan, Senpai, Elizabeth… Saya, too, at least in the dojo. But hey, there are worse things in life than being surrounded by assertive girls, eh?

My life is not an eroge, Pixie. No matter how much you may want it to be.

"Ah, Arisato. Welcome back."

He was jolted out of his inner argument by Mitsuru's voice, and he looked up to see her sitting neatly in one of the lounge's armchairs, book in hand. She was giving him a strange look, which made him wonder just how much of his conversation with Elizabeth she might've overhead; but that was overshadowed by her obvious weariness.

"Senpai?" Minato began, crossing to the common area himself; as far as he could, they were the only ones home just then, or at least the only ones in the lounge. "Are you alright?"

Mitsuru sighed, setting aside her book. "I'm fine, Arisato, but thank you for your concern." She hesitated. "Actually… You should probably know that there was an incident with Chidori today."

He slid onto one of the couches, close but not too close to her chair. "What kind of 'incident'?" he asked warily. In his experience, "incident" and "Strega" were words that went together very poorly.

"Her Persona manifested independently, and tried to strangle her," Mitsuru said bluntly. "According to Aragaki, Strega's members can't control their Personas the way we can, and require suppressants to avoid being killed by them. He's given a small supply to the doctor handling Chidori's case, enough to last at least a month."

Several unpleasant thoughts came to mind at that revelation, probably the least of them being morbid speculation as to what might've happened if Chidori's Persona hadn't been focused on trying to kill its own mistress. That Strega was dangerous in at least a dozen different ways wasn't new to Minato, though. More than that—

"Shinjiro-senpai knows something about Strega we don't?" he said carefully. "And he had the pills with him?"

"I know what you're thinking, Arisato," Mitsuru said, glancing away. "It worries me, too, to be honest. The truth is that I don't know much about what Aragaki was up to during the two years he was away from SEES. What I'm learning now… I don't like the implications of."

"Do you want me to—"

She shook her head. "No offense to you, Arisato, but for the moment I'd ask that you let Akihiko handle the matter. He and Aragaki have always been close. If Akihiko does ask for your help, by all means, but until then, I think it's best to leave it to him."

"Fair enough." And if there was anyone Minato trusted to handle a matter discretely besides himself or Mitsuru, it was the boxer. He was anything but the dumb, strength-obsessed brawler some might've—foolishly—assumed him to be. "What about Chidori?"

Mitsuru sighed again, idly brushing hair out of her eyes. "For the moment, I'm going to let Iori be our primary contact with her. Interrogation is still going absolutely nowhere, but she seems to trust him to some extent. If their rapport gets her to open up eventually, so much the better. Besides, as strange as it is, it seems to be good for Iori."

"Yeah. It does."

Minato couldn't deny that made him uneasy, given that Chidori had come very close to killing Junpei, but he wasn't about to indulge in the hypocrisy of condemning her completely without knowing all the facts. Takaya had already done that about Saya, and he would not be like that man.

"In any case," Mitsuru went on, reaching for her book again, "with Chidori in our custody, Strega should be a much lesser threat, at least for the time being. That lets us focus on the last three Full Moon Shadows. Assuming current trends continue, it will be at most three months until they're finished for good, and we can worry about finishing Strega afterward. If they're even a threat at all, after the Dark Hour is destroyed."

An open question, that. On the one hand, Minato wasn't at all sure Persona would disappear with the Dark Hour; from what he'd been hearing about Kouetsu Kirijo's research, Persona itself predated the Incident. On the other, Strega might well simply self-destruct if their private playtime was no longer open to them.

"Works for me, Senpai," he said after a moment. "Now that my injuries are healed, I've got a few tricks I'm going to experiment with; some things Takaya showed me can be done."

In the middle of lifting her book, Mitsuru favored him with a smile, which did interesting things to his stomach. "I'm glad to hear that, Arisato. I'll be very interested in your results…"

Friday, September 11th, 2009, Early Morning

There may not have been any more incidents with Strega since Chidori's capture, but Yukari was still more than happy to obey Mitsuru's injunction not to travel alone any more than necessary. After both Junpei and Minato had been wounded to varying degrees when they least expected it, she wasn't inclined to take chances.

With the strange irregularity of the SEES' members morning schedules, while it wasn't exactly difficult to catch up with one of her fellows shortly after leaving the monorail, but it was something of a roulette. This morning, though, she got lucky, spotting the most reassuring member of the group just a couple blocks from the station.

"Morning, Minato!" Yukari called out, picking up her pace long enough to fall into stride with the blunette swordsman.

"Good morning yourself, Yukari," Minato replied, not even twitching at her sudden appearance. Clicking off his ever-present MP3 player, he slipped off the headphones and let them dangle around his neck. "Something on your mind?" he added, looking her over carefully.

Figures he'd notice. No wonder Akihiko-senpai calls him "Detective". "Nothing that serious," she said, shrugging. She turned her attention away for a moment as she spotted someone else heading school-ward, and waved to Fuuka and Natsuki. "It's just," she continued afterward, "it's been one of those weeks, y'know?"

"All too well," he said, nodding. "Did you hear about the incident at the hospital yesterday?"

Yukari grimaced. "You mean Chidori's Persona trying to strangle her? Yeah. I hope Junpei's doing okay; seeing that couldn't have been fun." She hesitated. "It got me wondering, too. About Shinjiro-senpai. He's the one who knew what was going on, right?"

"So Senpai informs me. I wasn't there, though, and Senpai asked me to leave things to Akihiko-senpai for now." Minato took a moment to nod a greeting at one of his Kendo Team comrades, and continued, "I can't say I'm that surprised, though. Shinjiro-senpai spent a lot of time in some not nice places. If he could handle that alley behind the Station for two years, he probably picked up on a lot that us 'respectable' students miss out on."

She raised an eyebrow. "Voice of experience, Minato?" she asked, looking at him sidelong. "I knew that Tsuruya girl was a bad influence on you."

Truth be told, Yukari still didn't quite know what to think about Minato's previous "boss". She was extremely uncomfortable with what had been implied about their relationship, but she knew Minato was anything but a shallow ladies' man. If he credited her with "fixing" him, Yukari couldn't exactly write her off as the flirtatious, hyena-laughing ditz she usually appeared as.

Which was not, at all, to say Yukari wasn't prepared to snark about the green-haired bundle of energy.

Either way, she wasn't complaining when Minato's response was a low chuckle. "I'm innocent of that charge, Yukari. Back in the day, I only went into dark alleys if we actually had a job to do. Dyne and Ginrou were the ones who snooped around places like that. Well," he added thoughtfully, "and Hino, but only if she thought there was something worth throwing a punch at."

Somehow, that last didn't surprise her. Someone who was so eager for a fight she disturbed Akihiko Sanada had to be missing a few screws.

Joking aside, though, there was something still bothering her. "Shinjiro-senpai did spend two years hanging around back there," she said quietly, as they neared Gekkoukan's gates. "Why did he come back all of a sudden?"

Minato was quiet at that, taking several moments to put together a reply. "I haven't completely figured that out myself," he admitted quietly. "I have an inkling of why he left—not really my story to tell, and he says I'm still a bit off the mark—but why he came back? All I've got is that Akihiko-senpai thought Ken joining the team was enough reason to drag him back."

"…I guess I can understand that, actually." Yukari was still more than a little concerned herself, and she knew Minato was deeply unhappy about having an elementary school student on the team. She also knew that both Shinjiro and Akihiko were orphans, like Ken.

If Shinjiro really was as nice a guy beneath the facade as she sometimes thought he was, she supposed it wasn't too surprising that he'd want to make sure a kid didn't get hurt, knowing the stakes as well as they all did.

"To be honest," she said slowly, "I always thought Shinjiro-senpai was kind of scary. Even before I found out he was a Persona user, I could tell he was strong. But… underneath, he's a nice guy, isn't he?"

"I'm starting to get that impression myself," Minato admitted. "And from what I hear, he certainly saved the day against the Hermit."

"Yeah. The original SEES team… I kinda wish I'd been able to see them fight together myself." Yukari laughed suddenly, throwing off some of her own unease. "Hey, you aren't jealous, are you? Somebody else got to play the hero for once!"

"Perish the thought," he said dryly. "I don't mind missing out on electrocution, thanks."

"This from the guy who walks on top of moving trains? Bungee-jumps from Tartarus?" She rolled her eyes. "Or how about all the crazy stories you tell about your last school, huh? C'mon, even the real ones you have way too much fun with. Admit it, Minato, you like adrenaline."

"You're starting to talk like my sister."

"From you, I'll take that as a compliment." Yukari smiled mock-sweetly. "I notice you didn't deny it."

"…You're impossible sometimes, you know that?"

Saturday, September 12, 2009, After School

It was getting to be hard to remember, already, just how much pain Chidori had inflicted on him, Junpei reflected as he walked past the amused Kirijo Group guards at her hospital room. It had hurt like hell at the time, and intellectually he knew that without Minato and Yukari's quick aid he easily could've died; at the least, he would have lost most of the use of his arm.

Yet the wound had been healed completely in less than two days, and her behavior since she started speaking again had been no more violent than before she'd revealed herself to be with Strega. It was like the events of that night had been committed by a completely different person.

Not, Junpei admitted to himself, slipping into his usual chair at Chidori's bedside, that he was any more inclined to take chances than his senpai were. It was just a lot easier for him to ignore the reasons for the precautions they were still taking, and just enjoy the moment.

"Just me today," he said, when she looked up from her ever-present sketchpad. Inwardly, he was pleased to see her using the one he'd gotten for her, despite her words at the time. "But, um… the others say you still can't have your Evoker back. Sorry."

Chidori shrugged—a far cry from her prior panic on the matter. Junpei wondered, now, if some of that had been withdrawal, given how urgent her need for the suppressants had turned out to be. "I didn't expect them to," she said calmly, turning her gaze back to the paper in her hands. "They still think of me as their enemy, don't they? Whether they want to 'help' me or not. Especially the one who feels like Death."

Junpei blinked. He'd heard her use that expression once before, come to think of it. He'd been a little preoccupied with the fact that she'd drugged him, tied him up, and was threatening him an ax, but she'd said something about it the night of the Full Moon. "Feels like Death…?"

"Your actual leader. The one who always wears black. You do know he is a killer, don't you? Death defines him."

Okay. That was officially the creepiest thing he'd ever heard anyone say about Minato. Made worse by the fact that Junpei could think of a few things that supported the idea, assuming not everything he said about his past was a spooky campfire story.

Not gonna think about that, he told himself. Nope. Fuuka-chan trusts him, and so does Mitsuru-senpai, an' they're both smarter than I am. Good enough.

Casting about for a safer topic, his eyes strayed toward Chidori's hand. "Oh, yeah," he said, remembering the meeting before the one where her own Persona had tried to kill her. "How's that cut? Healing okay?" He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "Ah, who am I kidding? You're prolly completely fine by now, aren't you."

It was about then that Junpei noticed that, while she had her sketchbook in her lap, she wasn't actually drawing. Nor was she paying as close attention to it as he'd thought, her gaze straying occasionally to the window, and other times seeming to fix on nothing at all.

"Hey," he said hesitantly, "are you okay? You're not drawing today."

Chidori shrugged, looking indifferent. "Does it really matter?"

Yeah, it does, Junpei thought. You always are. If you're not, well, there's gotta be a reason for it, right? Still, he was comfortable pushing the matter, not when their rapprochement was still so tentative and fragile. "I guess not," he said aloud, and looked around for something else to talk about.

The discovery of some flowers at Chidori's bedside gave him an opening, however lame, especially when he noticed their condition. Besides, it gave him a possible out to gather his thoughts.

"Hey," he said, coming to his feet, "those flowers look pretty dried out. Well, I guess it has been pretty hot, lately… Hey, I got it," he added, when Chidori turned her attention to them. "I'll just—"

"It's fine," she said quietly, extending a hand to the dried-out bouquet. When her fingers were a few centimeters away, there was suddenly a bright flash, dazzling Junpei's eyes for a split second.

When the white light faded, the once-dry flowers looked vibrant, full of life. No longer crinkled and drooping, their petals seemed as cared for as if they were perfectly fresh.

Junpei's jaw dropped. "What the… What did you just do?"

"I made them healthy again," Chidori answered indifferently, her gaze wandering back in his general direction. "Why are you so surprised? You have power too, after all."

"Well, yeah," he acknowledged uncomfortably, slowly sitting back down again. "But… nothing like that. And without 'em, I'm nothing special. I'm nobody."

That was the crux of his problem, Junpei knew. The reason he fought so hard—so recklessly, if he was going to be completely honest—and maybe, little though he wanted to think about it, maybe it was part of why he was so willing to forgive and forget what Chidori had done to him. So that he'd have the chance to be the knight in shining armor, just for once.

He was sure that wasn't all of it, but he wasn't happy that he couldn't rule out that it was part of it.

"The others, y'know," Junpei said slowly, "they all got something. Mitsuru-senpai's a big-time corporate heir, Akihiko-senpai's the school's boxing champ… hell, Minato's the rising star of the Kendo Team, and I'm sure he's got something big he ain't telling us about. Even Fuuka-chan's a real whiz with gadgets an' stuff. But me? I'm nobody. I talk big, but take away Persona, and I'm no hero. I… don't even really know what I'm doing here. What I'm fighting for, where I'm going… Ah, hell, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

He was sure he was just making an idiot of himself like always—but Chidori was looking at him strangely intently, now. "What we're doing… where we're going…?" she said softly, tilting her head.

Junpei shrugged, uncomfortable with her intent stare. "Thought I knew what I wanted to, once," he said, figuring if he was going to start looking like a fool, he might as well take it all the way. "Had a dream when I was kid. Seems stupid now, after everything."

"What kind of dream was it?"

"That some day when I grew up, I'd be a professional baseball player." Junpei laughed at himself. "Heh… seems small and stupid, now, after everything I've seen this year. I guess that's the kind of dumb dream a little kid has, y'know?"

Maybe, if his life had stayed normal, he wouldn't think so. Maybe he'd still think that was something worth pursuing. But after the Dark Hour, and Persona, and knowing the kind of people who joined SEES for a purpose? Akihiko, the battle-driven boxer; Mitsuru, trying to fix her family's mistakes. Minato, the experienced fighter—killer, if Chidori was to be believed—who never seemed to doubt himself or his cause. Yukari, trying to find out what really happened to her father, and still fighting on even after learning the awful truth…

Next to all that, Junpei's "dream" from his childhood seemed to small and pointless. Pathetic, even.

"Is that what normal children dream of?" Chidori murmured, breaking into his self-pitying thoughts. "I don't really remember much of my childhood. All I can really remember… is being surrounded by white."

There were a lot of things that might mean, but Junpei had a feeling he knew what she was really talking about. He wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, he knew, but spending so much time in SEES, with people who were that smart, had taught him a few things.

So he wasn't surprised when, after a brief pause, she followed up with, "I hate hospitals," in a near-whisper.

"Not my favorite places either," Junpei admitted, looking away. He hadn't spent much time in them himself, but his dad had occasionally gotten so bad with his drinking… And he would never, ever forget when his mother… "…I'm sorry, Chidori."

To his surprise, she shook her head. "It's not so bad, this time," she said. "I don't mind it as much as I used to. Because… you come to see me so often, Junpei."

Was it his imagination, or was there the ghost of a smile trying to appear on her face? Either way, Junpei's spirits began to lift immediately, at the suggestion that his coming here so much wasn't all for naught.

The realization that, just made, what he did actually did matter to someone, whether he had "special powers" or not.

Feeling a smile come back to his own face for the first time since the conversation turned serious, Junpei said, "Chidori, I… Yeah. I won't let you down. I don't how much I can do for you, but anything I can do, I will. I promise."

That was a vow he intended to keep. Junpei Iori didn't think he was good for much of anything, but he'd be damned if he'd let someone down when they were counting on him. Whether that someone had tried to chop of his head or not.

Dark Hour

Routine. It had nearly brought about Minato's death this past month, when he'd grown complacent and failed to anticipate what proved to be a very deadly threat, yet it was still at times comforting to know when he could expect something strange to happen. Like the week after any given Full Moon.

He'd long since abandoned trying to sleep prior to the Dark Hour on those nights. Tonight, Minato was familiarizing himself with the grappling gun Naoto had built for him; he hadn't yet had the opportunity to actually use the thing, but sooner or later he was sure it would be needed. When it was, he intended to know it inside and out.

As fascinating as the gadget was, though, it didn't keep him from noticing the subtle change in the room that told him he was no longer alone. "Good evening, Pharos," he said, turning in his desk chair.

As expected, the strange child in the striped shirt was perched on the side of Minato's bed, and he chuckled at the greeting. "Good evening, Kyousuke. I'm glad to see you're well. For some time, it seemed the question was in doubt; your enemies are quite vicious, aren't they?"

"Strega doesn't do half-measures, no," Minato agreed, setting the pistol on his desk. "Fortunately, their sadism makes them a bit sloppy about timing. There won't be a third ambush."

"I'm glad to hear it. I was very worried, for a little while, especially after your friend was also attacked."

Friend? Junpei? …Huh. Am I starting to think of him that way? Odd thought, that. Even after Tsuruya finally put him back together, Minato had kept himself at a distance from those around him, always maintaining some degree of separation. Mitsuru-senpai had begun to breach that barrier through shared background and one or two particularly, bluntly uncomfortable shared experiences, but he'd still found himself pushing the others away, whether they realized it or not.

You don't talk about Saya to just anybody, though, he reminded himself. Tsu-chan was about the only one you ever said a word about her to back in the Irregulars…

"It's hard to believe," Pharos mused, drawing Minato back to the present. "It's been three seasons, now, since we first met. Time passes on so quickly, and so many things change. Yet even so, some things always remain the same. Don't you think so?"

"I suppose," Minato said slowly, shrugging. "But it's been my experience that the things you most think of as constants in life are the ones that change the most radically, when you least expect them to."

"Hm." Pharos seemed to ponder that a moment, before chuckling quietly. "Perhaps you have a point. I doubt either of us could've anticipated the way this year would turn out, even with your past experiences with the Darkness." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I wonder if our friendship will be one of the things that stays the same, or experiences great change?"

Minato didn't have an answer to that. He still barely had any idea what his friendship with Pharos was, given how little he even knew about the boy's very nature. He felt strangely comfortable confiding in him, despite the inevitable oddity of their conversations, but he still had no idea what Pharos even was.

For all he knew, he supposed, Pharos might not even really exist. Hallucinations would hardly be the craziest things he'd ever experienced in his life.

"Our conversations have stirred up more memories," the enigmatic boy continued now. "I'm still not sure what it all means, but I've been thinking a lot more about the Tower lately. Whatever the future holds, I'm sure the Tower is central to it all."

"It certainly seems that way," Minato agreed. "That's where it all began."

"And where it will probably end, as well. Although not everything is about it, is it? There are mysteries within your own garden. Like the young one who knows so much."

He had a fair idea he knew who Pharos was talking about, this time. It was something he'd been meaning to follow up on since the night of the Full Moon, but so far hadn't had time for. Well, then, "Minato", maybe you're better make the time. If there's one thing you ought to know better than anybody, it's that secrets can get people killed.

Mitsuru Kirijo's secrets, Minato didn't worry about. The ones that were left he was pretty sure were extremely personal, and only his business if she chose to confide in him. The same held true for most of SEES, whose backgrounds so far seemed ordinary, if on the more tragic end of the scale. Even Shinjiro Aragaki, he at least had a fair understanding of, given his own history.

Ken Amada was beginning to make him nervous. He'd trained his body to a degree most unlike an ordinary kid his age, was frighteningly proficient in soujutsu, and so good at making himself seem harmless that even Minato and his Senpai had spoken quite carelessly around him before he was officially brought in on the secret of the Dark Hour.

There were a few possible inferences to be made from that, and while not all of them were too disturbing in principle, Minato didn't like any of them being connected to someone so young. Even so, he'd started to think maybe he had an idea what was going on.

Then he'd discovered Ken's latest unexpected talent, and had his analysis thrown off again. Lock-picking was simply not a normal self-defense skill, even for someone in their circumstances. He should know, being as he led SEES in the field—quite effectively usually, in his own opinion—yet had no clue how to go about it.

"Well," Pharos said abruptly, fading mid-word to materialize near the bedroom door, "I'm confident you'll work things out, Kyousuke. You always do." He smiled over his shoulder. "Take care, my friend. I'll see you again soon."

When the boy had faded again, presumably for the night, Minato turned back to the eerie view of the Dark Hour sky beyond his window. "Why is it," he said to no one, "that that kid is such a great confidante, but always leaves me with my hair standing on end?"

Monday, September 14th, 2009, Early Morning

A good nine days now since the last catastrophe, discounting the unfortunate incident with Chidori's out of control Persona. Given how August had gone, Minato was inclined to call that a good sign, enough so that on the way to school on this particular morning, he was actually enjoying his music again.

With the strains of Disillusion in his ears, he was only mildly curious as to which of his teammates he was going to randomly encounter. Even now, with the injunction to spend as little time alone as possible, they still hadn't managed to synchronize schedules to any rational degree. That was one mystery that stubbornly resisted his detective instincts.

Minato hadn't run into any of the others before a conversation ahead of him, somewhat audible even through his headphones, reached his ears. "So, what's your class planning for the Culture Festival?"

A sigh. "A haunted house. You know, the usual thing everybody goes for when nobody has any good ideas… I'll probably be stuck as a ghost. That's how it always goes, right?"

"Oh, come on, that's not so bad. At least all you have to do is show up, put on a sheet, and make scary noises. My class is doing a magic show. That's just as lame, and tons more complicated. And for what?" He could just barely see a head shake a few meters ahead. "You hear there's a typhoon coming? The whole school will be empty anyway. Nobody will even see it."

Oh, yeah. I thought I heard something about that. I'm not sure whether I'm worried or relieved. On the one hand, the weather could be really, really bad; on the other, I'm not sure I'd object to the Culture Festival being interrupted. Those have way too much potential for going crazy.

Admittedly, the last Culture Festival Minato had been involved with hadn't actually gone as nuts as it could have, considering some of the people involved. Still…

"Ugh," was the first audible indication that he wasn't alone, although he'd dimly noticed someone approaching. "That Festival is on everybody's minds, isn't it?" Yukari huffed in annoyance, shouldering her bag as she drew even with him. "You hear the rumors, Minato?"

"About what our class is probably going to be doing? Yeah." Minato grimaced. "Maid Cafe. I've seen that done before, and I wasn't wild about it that time."

"Makes me wish we were doing the haunted house, ghosts or not." Her gripe told him just about everything he needed to know about her opinion of the idea, given her oh-so-strenuously-denied fear of ghosts. "Especially with the way the Archery Club is talking about how to select people for the 'duties'." Yukari shot him a sidelong look. "So, why am I not surprised there was one of those at your school last year? I bet she got a kick out of it."

Ah, yes. Tsu-chan is not Yukari's favorite person. Pity she's never seen Tsu-chan in a mood other than "troll" or "homicidal". She might change her mind… or maybe not, given the first impression. "Tsu-chan did seem to enjoy herself," Minato allowed. "Personally, I thought the food was too expensive, among other things, but I was kind of busy during most of it. Fang-tan's a year ahead of me, remember, so my class had its own 'attraction'."

Passing through Gekkoukan's outer gates, Yukari raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Yeah? Like what?"

"Martial arts exhibition. And Hino and I were in the same class."

"…Oh."

"I spent a good chunk of the day making sure Hino didn't set anything on fire," Minato said, nodding. "Usually she's pretty good about keeping a lid on the pyrotechnics, but when she gets excited—and forgets her 'special' gloves—things get a little toasty. Since Ginrou skipped that day, Dyne was showing off with Kendo Team, and Miso was part of Tsu-chan's class, I was the lucky guy playing fire brigade. Fortunately North High was crazy enough usually that nobody really noticed."

Yukari thought about that for a minute. "Any chance you can call her in for a little strategic arson here?"

Um. That's… No. I don't like that sound of that at all.

Aye. That sounds more like Junpei's strategy, the lout. Mayhap he be a bad influence on her?

No offense to you, Master—though maybe some to Norse Chick there—but I think burning is actually more our style than Junpei's right? Well. Pixie paused, recalling Junpei's own elemental strength. Burning as the answer to everything, anyway.

Not like this! Minato protested. I don't burn things to get out of school activities!

Yet.

Wednesday, September 16th, 2009, Early Morning

"Hey, guess what? Yukari Takeba is going to be dressing up as a maid for the Culture Festival!"

"No way! For real?! How'd anybody convince her to do that? I mean, that's awesome, but how come I didn't hear about the fight she must've started?"

"Hey, don't ask me. All I heard is, the Archery Club drew straws for it, and Yukari got the short one." A laugh. "Man, she must be mad as hell, but that's all the more reason to actually check out the Maid Cafe, right? It'll actually be interesting for once, with her doing it!"

Note to self, Minato thought, following along behind the gossiping students, stay as far out of Yukari's way as possible till after the Culture Festival. Especially during it. I'll be surprised if Class 2-F doesn't spontaneously combust. …Who had this brainstorm, anyway?

He considered himself fortunate that he hadn't met up with Yukari on the way to school this morning. Now he had a better idea of just why she'd been so volatile the other day; he had the unpleasant suspicion Archery Club had rigged the selection.

Minato counted himself fortunate that the rumors about the two of them had died down months ago. Yukari's normal popularity, combined with the hype of her dressing as a maid, would've made him extremely unpopular if people still had the odd idea that they were dating.

He didn't understand the hype, anyway. Maid fetishes had always baffled him.

The blue-haired swordsman had about three seconds' warning, just barely noticing footsteps, before a voice spoke behind him. "Well, well. Yukari is not going to be fun to be around for a few days, is she? No offense, Detective, but right now I'm grateful I'm a year ahead of you guys."

"I don't blame you, Senpai," Minato replied, turning to nod at Akihiko. "Honestly, I'm kind of hoping that typhoon is as bad they're saying it might be. It can't be any worse than Yukari's mood will be, if she does have to wear that ridiculous… thing."

Akihiko laughed. "Yeah, Yukari goes more for fur than frilly, doesn't she? Not to mention the implications… Y'know, it's probably a good thing Junpei's so fixated on Chidori these days. Otherwise he'd probably end up saying or doing something that ends with him on crutches."

Given Yukari's habit of stomping on Junpei's foot for much lesser offenses, Minato was inclined to agree. As it was… "I won't be surprised if Junpei finds a way to ditch school Saturday, anyway. That, or try and smuggle Chidori out of the hospital to take her to the Festival."

"Don't give him any ideas, Detective," the boxer warned, shuddering. "He might, at that, and we've got other things to worry about. Right now, Chidori's in custody, and Strega's a lot less of a threat, so we can focus on the remaining Shadows."

That was something Minato took a fair bit of comfort in, himself. With Chidori out of the picture, Strega should be deprived of their uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere, leaving it more an issue of pure strength. As a group, SEES was undoubtedly the stronger, and even one-on-one, well. Minato was experimenting, now that his injuries were healed, and he was very much looking forward to a rematch with Takaya.

When he'd have the opportunity was the question, of course. Clearly, Strega knew as well as SEES just how much Chidori's capture hurt them. They'd be cautious for now, maybe long enough for SEES to take out another of the Shadows, or even two.

"Just three left," he mused, as they approached Gekkoukan's gates. "Hard to believe."

"You're telling me? I've been fighting them even longer than you have, remember." Akihiko grinned. "Now, if only they'd come at us all at once. Get it over with—and give us a hell of a fight. But no, we gotta wait another three weeks to get even one, and we haven't fought more than two at a time."

Minato sternly forced down the rush he felt at the idea of doing exactly that. He was not in the same class of adrenaline junkie as Akihiko or Hino, dammit! "Unfortunately, Senpai," he said dryly, "I can't think of anything to blow up that might take out three. And Senpai made me promise not to do that sort of thing anymore."

Akihiko laughed. "Well, yeah, there's that. Mitsuru can get kind of scary when she's mad… Besides, if they all came at once, what would we have to look forward to? As it is, I'm going to have a hell of a time finding something worth fighting when we have finished them all off."

"Talk to Tsu-chan," Minato advised, remembering his ex's reason for leaving the country. "She can probably line you up with something."

"Might not be a bad idea—but only if you give me a way to talk to her without that crazy pyromaniac being around." He shuddered. "She makes me nervous, somehow."

"Sooner or later, you're gonna have to give in and spar with her, Senpai. That should get some of the enthusiasm out of her system." Maybe. Unless she decides you really are the sparring partner she's been looking for, anyway. She's kind of scary that way.

Maybe Akihiko caught some of what he left unsaid, because the boxer favored Minato with a very skeptical look. "Thanks, but I'll try and pass on that for now… Anyway. See you after school, Detective."

The two parted ways at the shoe lockers just inside the main school building, leaving Minato to try and put Shadows completely out of his mind for a few hours. Time to focus on plain old schoolwork, and worry about saving the world later. Before he could survive eldritch creatures, he first had to survive the cast of oddballs that made up Gekkoukan's faculty.

Having switched to his indoor shoes, Minato was almost to the stairs leading up to the second floor when a light touch on his shoulder, completely unexpected, almost made him jump back out of those shoes. "Good morning, Arisato," Mitsuru said, smiling just faintly when he turned around. "I realize class is about to start, so I'll keep this short. Are you free after school?"

A brief mental consultation with his inner peanut gallery, and Minato nodded. "No plans tonight, Senpai. Why?"

"Get your coat and meet me outside the dorm when you get back," she told him succinctly. "We need to talk."

"Uh, sure." Huh?

Mitsuru gave him another of those small smiles, and then was off toward her own class, seeming oddly pleased with herself.

Probably for getting the drop on me, Minato thought, ascending the stairs and firmly ordering his heart to slow down again. How does she do that in heels?

I'm more interested in what she wants to talk about tonight, Pixie said, chuckling in the back of his mind. Get your coat and meet in front of the door? Road trip, Master. Maybe someplace more interesting than the lab this time?

More likely a debrief, he demurred, heading for 2-F. We haven't had much of a chance to talk about that last Operation yet. Not privately, anyway.

Maybe. But if you ask me, she looked a little too happy for that to be all it was. Another chuckle, verging on a giggle. I guess we'll see, won't we, Master?

After School

Just this once, Mitsuru deliberately violated her own admonition to avoid being alone after school, going out of her way to return to the dorm unnoticed by any of the others. She didn't want to count too much on Strega having been forced to stay back by Chidori's capture, but this one time she didn't really want anyone to know what she and Arisato would be up to.

Not that it was anything that would be a cause for embarrassment, she told herself firmly when she got to her room (which was, to her mind, really more opulent than it needed to be). It was still all too likely that certain other members of SEES would read too much into it if they knew where she was intending to go tonight, and in whose company. She'd been on the other side of such misunderstandings where Arisato was concerned already, and she wasn't as socially experienced as certain others were.

Feeling a certain guilty pleasure in breaking from the image she normally maintained as her father's heir, Mitsuru tossed her school uniform casually onto her larger-than-necessary bed, exchanging it for the tighter shirt and tough pants she wore when riding. The elegant but not terribly practical heels she wore to Gekkoukan lost out to leather riding boots, and then from her closet—next to the Gekkoukan blazer she never actually bothered wearing—she pulled out her red leather jacket.

Pausing to examine herself in her room's full-length mirror, Mitsuru nodded to herself with a small but satisfied smile. With her position in SEES, as the heir to the head of the Kirijo Group, and President of Gekkoukan's Student Council, it wasn't often that she got to cut loose like this, and she always enjoyed it when she could. The problem, in the past, was that she'd never been quite sure where to go, poorly accustomed as she was to anything but the high society she'd been reared in.

Before, she'd ended up just riding aimlessly down the streets of wherever she happened to living at the time, no destination in mind. Now, though… I suspect Arisato might have a few ideas. He seems like he knows a little about how to unwind, despite his status.

What that status was, Mitsuru still didn't know quite for sure. By now, though, she was convinced it was much higher than he liked to present himself as.

Not, she reminded herself as she made her way back down to the first floor of the dorm, that this was quite a social occasion. She was taking advantage of the opportunity to relax a little, but this wasn't at all about her and Arisato. They just needed to have a discrete talk where no one else concerned was likely to overhear.

By the time Mitsuru had brought her bike around to the front of the dorm—mercifully without any of the other residents having gotten back, as far as she could tell—Arisato was standing on the front steps. As instructed, he wore his armored duster, along with the blue-tinted safety glasses he usually reserved for operations; clearly, he'd anticipated at least their mode of travel.

Very privately, Mitsuru had to admit he presented quite a dramatic appearance, only slightly marred by the fact she was fairly sure he was doing it on purpose. Even more privately, so much so she barely allowed herself to notice, she took some pride in the reaction he had to her own appearance.

Adjusting her own sunglasses with a small smile, Mitsuru tossed him her spare helmet. "Climb on, Arisato," she instructed, when he'd put it on. "We're going for a trip."

"What kind of 'trip', Senpai?" he asked, settling in behind her and hesitantly taking hold of her.

"Nothing too serious," Mitsuru assured him, determinedly ignoring the odd feeling in her stomach when Arisato leaned into her. "But we haven't had much of a chance for a debrief yet, have we? The matter of Chidori has been a bit distracting." She revved the bike's engine then, edging away from the dorm. She wanted to be well away before anyone else got in sight.

"True enough. But, ah, Senpai… where are we going, exactly?"

Mitsuru smiled behind her helmet. "You'll see, Arisato." She twisted the throttle again, and with a squeal of abused tires, they were off.

Her hair streaming into the wind, Arisato's reliable presence behind her, she was reminded of why she'd bought the bike to begin with, even when she didn't have any particular place to go. Just for now, there was the wind and the road, and just for a little while, she thought she could outrun her troubles. Outrun the world itself.

Akihiko had, as nearly as he could tell, gotten home before anyone else for once. He was in reasonably good spirits, just now; the new issue with Shinji aside, things seemed to be going pretty well for a change. Even Shinji, well, the fact that he'd come back to SEES at all was a good sign. If he'd done that, even in the face of everything that had happened before, surely something could be worked out even about the suppressants… right?

So he was, at worst, bored when he realized no one else was home. The worst that came of that was that he had no particular excuse to put off his homework, and, well, he was no Junpei. He'd take his lumps without grumbling too much.

He hadn't been at the books for long, though, when he heard doors opening and closing with unusual care. Certainly only a couple of the residents had a tendency to slam doors, but even the most refined of his housemates weren't usually that deliberately quiet.

So Akihiko peered out his own door, very carefully, after very quiet footsteps passed his floor, going up to the girls' floor. He kept it open only a tiny crack, absently making a mental note to talk to their resident amateur detective sometime about discrete surveillance methods—but a crack proved to be enough, when the owner of those footsteps came back down again.

Huh, he thought, watching Mitsuru make her way back down to the lounge as carefully and quietly as leather riding boots allowed. Mitsuru…? I wonder what she's up to. I almost never see her decked out like that.

When he was sure she was out of earshot, Akihiko gingerly left his room, and stepped with great care to the window overlooking the street in front of the dorm. He got there just in time to see Mitsuru come into view on her motorcycle, and then to see—and wasn't that interesting?—Minato climb onto the back of it.

Well, how about that, he mused, as they peeled off into town. Mitsuru's going someplace casual—with our Detective. I wonder what they're up to?

Not any of his business, Akihiko knew. Not really. Still, he couldn't help smiling to himself, just a little. It was nice to see Mitsuru letting her hair down—so to speak—even a little bit. And if she was going to do it with anyone, it figured it would be with Minato, whom he'd noticed some time before had been getting along with her particularly well lately.

Probably shouldn't tell anybody else about this, though, he decided, turning back to his room. Junpei might be too distracted with Chidori these, but then again he might not. And who knows how Yukari would take it. Another thought struck him, and he winced. Or Aigis. There's no way to tell how she might react to any change in Minato's "routine".

Still and all, a good sign, Akihiko thought. It was about time Mitsuru did something besides brood about things that weren't even her fault.

It wasn't too often that Mitsuru got to see Arisato genuinely surprised by something. Nonplussed, uncomfortable, resigned to the insanity that so often surrounded him, yes. Surprised? Mostly when I get the drop on him, she thought, turning her motorcycle to slide neatly into Club Escapade's parking.

She couldn't see his expression from where she was, even if he hadn't been wearing a helmet, but she felt him twitch, leaning against her as he was. "Club Escapade, Senpai?" he said, making a commendable effort to keep his surprise out of his voice. "Not the kind of place I'd expect you to go. No offense."

"None taken," Mitsuru replied, killing the engine and pulling off her helmet. "It's also part of the point, really. We should be able to have a reasonably discrete conversation here. And," she added hesitantly, "to be honest, I thought I should try getting out a little more. This doesn't seem to be the kind of place one normally comes to alone, and it occurred to me that you might be more familiar with the etiquette involved, Arisato."

Arisato swung off the bike, and doffed his own helmet. "…I've been to places like this a time or two in the past," he admitted. "Although I'm not sure 'etiquette' is a word I'd really associate with clubs… Anyway. Yeah, Senpai, I know my way around places like this well enough."

"Then I'll be relying on you, Arisato."

Mitsuru had only been inside Escapade once before, during the Dark Hour, so all she'd ever seen of the clientele was a collection of eerie, floating coffins. She wasn't at all sure what to expect when Arisato—naturally taking the lead, as if this were just another anti-Shadow operation—led her in through the front door. She had one brief moment to wonder what kind of impression the two of them were making, her dressed for riding, him in his duster, but then the reality was upon her.

The first thing she noticed was the noise. It was only just approaching evening, but Escapade was already busy, and loud enough to make Mitsuru wince. Music, if it could really be called that, the hum of a dozen conversations, and the cacophony of feet on the psychedelic dance floor that dominated the first floor of the club. It was enough to disorient her, and she wondered if it had really been such a good idea to try and have a meaningful discussion in a place like this.

Arisato, fortunately, seemed to be handling it better, even if he didn't look especially comfortable with the noise level either. Still leading the way, he spoke briefly to an employee, who oddly seemed to recognize him. A short discussion, and a display of something Arisato pulled out of his wallet, and then he was turning back to her.

"Stairs are this way, Senpai," he said, leaning in close to her ear for his murmur to be audible. "The noise isn't as bad upstairs."

Bemused, Mitsuru fell into step with him. "You've been here before," she said, almost accusingly. "They know you." Idly, her gaze strayed to the dance floor, and she mentally shook her head at what passed for acceptable dress among some of the dancers.

Yes, she could easily imagine Arisato having been to places like this before. Tsuruya would fit right in with this kind of crowd, in some of the moods she'd seen the girl in. And Arisato, however uneasy he often seemed when Tsuruya turned up, had dated the girl for several months; he couldn't have found it that hard to put up with her habits.

"It's familiar," Arisato said, just loud enough for her to hear, as they ascended to the second floor. "Believe it or not, some of the calmer times I had in Nishinomiya were in places like this… Ah, here we are."

The lounge Arisato led her into seemed to cater more towards adult patrons, but Mitsuru was just grateful that it was quieter. The dance floor could still be heard, but it wasn't nearly so overwhelming now, especially not in the corner Arisato headed for. After, she noticed, an almost furtive look around the room.

"Expecting to be thrown out after all, Arisato?" Mitsuru asked dryly.

"Just making sure Mutatsu-san isn't here tonight," he answered, visibly relaxing. "And old, drunk monk I've met a few times," he added when she lifted an eyebrow in his direction. "I don't think I want to know what he'd say if he saw me coming in here with a girl."

Arisato's phrasing made Mitsuru's face feel oddly warm, though she knew perfectly well what he actually meant. Sliding into the booth, he'd steered her toward, she cleared her throat and said, "A drunk monk? You really do know some interesting people, Arisato."

"Runs in the family," he replied. "Just a second; I'll get us something to drink…" Before she could respond to that, the blunette was crossing to the bar, leaving her distinctly nonplussed.

For someone who was so surprised that we were coming here to begin with, he's certainly more at ease than I am, Mitsuru thought. Surely he isn't really getting…?

Within moments, Arisato was on his way back with a glass in either hand. "Anyway," he said, setting one in front of her and slipping onto the seat opposite her with the other, "you should hear some of the stories my grandfather has. I don't believe some of what he claims he's done."

"Somehow I'm not surprised that your habits are hereditary, Arisato." Mitsuru warily examined her drink. "This had better not actually be alcoholic."

"Sparkling grape juice," Arisato said, smiling faintly. "For the ambiance, Senpai. They may know me here, but they're not crazy."

I wonder about that. Your definition of "crazy" is probably a bit different from the rest of us, Arisato. Nonetheless mollified, Mitsuru took a careful sip, and found that he was, indeed, telling the truth on this one. It was very good juice, but that was all it was. None of the distinctive bite of alcohol, which she'd experienced in occasional formal ceremonies. The Kirijo family wasn't the most traditional, but in their circles there were some things that simply couldn't be avoided all the time.

"I'm glad to see you staying on this side of at least one rule, Arisato," she said aloud. "You are still underage, after all."

"Only for another two years," Arisato riposted, leaning back with a deliberately casual air. "Well. Two years and three months, give or take."

True. I suppose it's not really that long, this close to the end of high school… Wait. What?

Mitsuru lowered her glass. "Two years?" she repeated. "Don't you mean three, Arisato?"

He blinked. "Hm? No, I meant—oh. The official record." Arisato shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink. "No harm talking about that part, I guess… When we were putting together the new files, Grandfather figured it was easier to fudge my age a bit than to explain why I missed a year of school. Skip some awkward questions this way."

Awkward, indeed. She knew, from some of what he'd let slip previously, that he'd started high school as an emotional wreck, but she hadn't realized it had been quite that bad. Which means, Mitsuru realized, had things gone differently we'd be in the same year. Maybe even the same class. That's…

That was a thought that provoked feelings she wasn't quite sure how to interpret, nor whether she really wanted to or not.

Actually, the whole subject was one Mitsuru wasn't at all sure she wanted to deal with. She wasn't sure where the implications of "what might have been" might lead, but she was pretty sure pressing him on the issue of missing an entire school year would lead to exactly the kind of awkward questions he was trying to avoid.

Questions she was becoming increasingly convinced had less to do with hiding secrets, and more to do with running away from painful memories. Mitsuru knew a little something about that kind of mentality.

"Well," she said at length, allowing the tension to flow out of her shoulders as she leaned back into the booth's padding, "that's really neither here nor there. The official reason I wanted to talk to you, Arisato, was to get your take on the most recent operation. Up to now, I believe all we've gotten around to discussing is the matter of Chidori."

Arisato visibly relaxed as well. "She did kind of steal the show that night, didn't she?" he mused, idly swirling the juice in his glass. "But the operation itself… Well. I can't really speak to the matter of the Full Moon Shadow, having only seen the aftermath."

"Point taken. All right, let's trade, then." Mitsuru took a sip and closed her eyes, thinking back. "By the standards some of our missions have set, it wasn't actually that difficult. Its attacks were mostly predictable; the primary issue was its barrier. Which, according to Yamagishi's later analysis probably extended to the very edges of the room before your team took out the first power linkage. She believes that's why the door was unlocked when we arrived."

"Melted it, huh? That's quite the electrical charge."

"It was." She remembered the few hits she'd taken during the fight, and shivered. Akihiko had mostly just been flung around by sheer kinetic energy, but she didn't have his resistance to electricity. "Still, with your team depriving it of external support, it was really only a matter of time. Tedious, but straightforward. At least until it realized it was about to die."

That part Mitsuru remembered only in very vivid fragments. Getting blasted into a wall by what amounted to an omnidirectional lightning storm, she'd found, had nasty effects on short-term memory. Mostly she remembered impact, and feeling like every nerve in her body was on fire.

She opened her eyes to find Arisato looking strangely grim. "Wish I'd been there," he said quietly. "I could've shrugged off the electrical effect."

"So did Akihiko," Mitsuru reminded him. "He was still thrown into a wall. Believe me, Arisato, you were needed right where you were, cutting down the Hermit's external power. We never would've killed it in time, otherwise." Her tone softened. "And you were there at the end. In this case, I have to commend your initiative in employing exotic first aid methods. You were right, and I was wrong."

"I have a little more experience with unnatural healing than most, Senpai," he said, shrugging. "I know I heal way faster than I should. I can understand why others would be a little more concerned."

"Regardless, I would be remiss if I failed to acknowledge the fact." She paused to take a drink, and nodded to him. "So. Nothing of particular note on my end of the operation. Anything out of the ordinary for you, Arisato?"

"We had it pretty easy," Arisato replied, with another casual shrug. "Yukari and Ken handled most of it just fine; I just played backup, at least until we hit a cable too thick for arrow or spear." A frown darkened his expression. "There is one thing that bothers me, though. Ken got us into those places by picking the locks. Now, I'm not exactly a shining example of a normal upbringing myself, but I don't think I've ever met an eleven-year-old who could do that."

Ah. Yes. The elephant in the room, or at least dangerously close to it, as far as Mitsuru was concerned. She was quite concerned about Amada's skills herself; and though with further reflection she had an inkling as to his motivations, it was something she found she was having trouble determining how to discuss. At least, without getting into details she was not comfortable discussing at all, even now, even with her growing rapport with Arisato.

He is going to deduce the truth sooner or later, Penthesilea said in the back of her mind, making a rare contribution to the conversation. Arisato is clever, and observant.

But also respectful of others' privacy, Mitsuru reminded her other self. This is very delicate topic, and both of them still have open wounds I don't want any of us prodding.

Perhaps. The phantom of the ancient Amazon was in atypical disagreement with Mitsuru, but seemed content to leave her warning at that, fading once again into a watchful, silent presence.

From the way Arisato was looking at her, it was obvious he had some idea of the inner discussion that had just occurred. Unsurprising, if his own collection of Personas were as talkative as he occasionally suggested. He only sat there, though, sipping at his juice and waiting patiently.

Well, I do have to say something. Just… carefully.

"I'm somewhat concerned by Amada's areas of study myself," Mitsuru said at last. "I do have some idea as to why he pushes himself so hard, but it doesn't explain quite everything." Not quite a lie. Not really. She understood Amada pushing himself to learn to fight, but picking locks… No. Not unless the situation was worse than she feared.

And so far, I've seen no sign that it is. If Amada were thinking along those lines, I doubt he could hide it. Not from Arisato, at any rate, or—especially—Yamagishi.

Arisato was watching her intently now. "Something I should know, Senpai?"

Mitsuru sighed. "The full story isn't really mine to tell," she said, lowering her gaze to her glass. "That's Amada's business, really. But he has had a… difficult childhood. Even I don't know exactly what happened with his father, other than that he was never involved in Amada's life; he may even be dead. For all the Kirijo Group's resources, there are answers even we can't find." She took a sip to buy herself a little time to think. "Then, of course, his mother was killed in an accident two years ago. The police ruled it a random hit-and-run, and no suspects have ever come to light."

Not quite a lie. Not quite. Just an omission. So why does it feel like one?

Arisato might've seen through it. Mitsuru wasn't sure—but he didn't have the look of someone who thought he was being lied to. She hoped.

"What about the relatives paying for his education?"

The question came without any sharp edges, and brought Mitsuru back to much more secure footing. If hardly less unpleasant. "He was living in a boarding school, Arisato," she said heavily. "As nearly as my father's been able to determine, they care just enough not to let a child starve on the streets. I'm not sure they've even bothered to actually meet Amada in person."

She hadn't asked Ikutsuki about the matter at all. Apart from matters directly relating to Shadows, she never did anymore. She couldn't trust his judgment where people were concerned, after he brought Ken Amada into actual combat.

There was silence for a few moments, it being Arisato's turn to stare gloomily into his drink. Then, finally, he looked up at her again, shadows in his eyes. "So ever since his mother died, Ken's had to fend for himself, huh? Bet even his teachers don't pay much attention, if the Chairman was able to get him moved to our dorm so easily. …Yeah, I can see somebody trying to 'grow up' fast in a situation like that. Become what they think an adult is like. Although," he added thoughtfully, "if he thinks breaking and entering is part of it, I think we need to keep a closer eye on what kind of movies he's watching. I never bought into TV corrupting the young, but…"

Mitsuru allowed herself a chuckle at that. "If not the media, Arisato, what's your excuse? Was it really just Tsuruya who corrupted you? Your sister seems to be on the straight and narrow, at least."

For an instant, she thought she'd asked the wrong question. The flicker of a shadow in his eyes made her worry she'd brought back the tension that just been dispelled—but then the swordsman was smiling, just a little. "My grandfather is a perfectly upstanding citizen," Arisato said, leaning back in his seat. "Some of his associates… are a little fuzzier. And I got to know one or two of them at an impressionable age."

"That would explain so much. Your role models were Yakuza, Arisato?" Not that she was one to talk, she reflected with a hidden, rueful smile. She only barely remembered in time to use the common term, instead of what her family had always used amongst themselves.

"Please, Senpai. Ninkyo-dantai; I'm of honorable lineage, not a scion of boryokudan thugs." Another smile—one of the most genuine Mitsuru thought she'd ever seen from him—and Arisato downed the remains of his drink. "But no. Not really. Thirteen generations would turn over in their graves, and my grandfather would have words with me. Hm… I think, anyway. Like I've said, his tales make mine seem reasonable sometimes…"

Interesting. That was not the kind of distinction the average citizen made, particularly not one whose apparently very close sister was aiming to enter law enforcement. Almost the only people who regarded any Yakuza as anything other than "violence groups" were Yakuza themselves.

Haruka Tsuruya had struck Mitsuru as many things. A daughter of organized crime wasn't one of them. So if she didn't start Arisato's "corruption"… who did? And why, exactly, did he look at her if he knew perfectly well what she'd almost said herself, and why?

Well. Not like it would be very surprising if he'd dug into the Kirijo Group itself at some point over the last few months. It would have been more surprising if he hadn't, really, even if he'd clearly respected her own privacy.

At length, Mitsuru shook her head, polished off her own drink, and smiled, surprised to realize that for all the occasional awkwardness, she'd enjoyed herself tonight. "You're very dangerous, Arisato. Aren't you? Sooner or later, you'll say the wrong thing to the wrong person, you know."

There was another flash of darkness in his eyes, before he smiled in return, lifting his empty glass in salute. "Who says I haven't already, Senpai? But that's what makes life so interesting."

Yes. Yes, she could see his point. Just as, finally, she was starting to understand what he'd meant about life being shades of gray, before being shown again that there was more to the world than a tragedy, however severe. Her father, Mitsuru began to realize, had been trying to tell her that for years; she just hadn't been able to believe it, when it was clear Takeharu Kirijo was just as bound by the sins of the father as she was.

The conversation had pretty much run down now, the "official" topic having really been only a small thing, in the end. They'd both finished their drinks, and it was wearing on to evening. But Mitsuru… wasn't quite ready to just head home for the night. Not yet.

"Arisato," she began, bringing him out of his absent contemplation of his empty glass. "Are you still free?"

"No plans for tonight at all, Senpai," Arisato admitted, lifting one eyebrow. "Why? Something else we need to take care of?"

"Not exactly." Mitsuru stood, pulled her sunglasses out of her pocket, and smiled. "You like to live dangerously. Let's go for a ride."

Thursday, September 17th, 2009, Early Morning

Yes, Minato thought, things were looking up this month. Aside from Junpei nearly being assassinated—and even that had ended positively, all things considered, with Chidori's capture weakening Strega considerably—the operation had gone much more smoothly than the last few. Since then, barring one minor hiccup with a homicidal Persona, things had been going pretty smoothly.

And last night was fun, he admitted to himself, a spring in his step as he made his way from the station toward school. Senpai's a lot better company at a club than a drunk, cigar-smoking monk, that's for sure. Not that he didn't think Mutatsu meant well, sure, but the man's relentless cynicism could be a bit wearing at times. Not to mention the ride home.

Or rather, ride through Iwatodai and Port Island both, and even a little ways out of town, then home. Minato wasn't completely sure what kind of mood had gripped his Senpai with such wanderlust, but he wasn't going to deny having enjoyed the trip immensely.

He'd spent some memorable times at sea, and in his time in Inaba the mountains had been a familiar refuge for him. The sheer rush of two wheels carrying him into the wind was something new, something that called to his soul—and that was leaving aside the company.

Minato wasn't sure where he stood, exactly, with Mitsuru. The ground had been shifting beneath his feet for months, especially since Yakushima; they were no longer just senpai and kohai, Club President and field team leader, he was sure of that much. They were… friends, he thought, and that was something he wasn't quite used to anymore. The barrier of his obfuscated past still stood between them, but even that wall seemed to be weakening. What would happen if it crumbled, he couldn't guess.

I can guess easily enough what would've happened if certain of the others found out what we were up to last night, though, he thought, slipping easily into the stream of students heading for class; about then, his MP3 player clicked over to Kokoro, a song whose lyrics seemed to oddly resonate with him at the moment. Junpei had a field day about Yukari and me back when I first got here as it was.

Which was, of course, why they'd very carefully not entered the dorm at the same time. So long as no one actually saw Mitsuru's motorcycle arrive with the both of them, it ought to be fine.

Gotta get one of those. I can't always impose on Senpai, after all… Of course, Naoto will give me a Look, but I can live with that…

"Hey, have you been watching the weather reports lately? That typhoon is almost here. I don't know if we're even going to have Saturday's Festival, at this rate."

"If it's here by then, probably not. It's supposed to be a big one, isn't it? Even our school's crazy faculty isn't going to have a festival in the middle of that. We'll be lucky if we're not underwater as it is."

"Man, I hope it's not that bad! I don't want to have to live in underwater cities!"

Right. Look into that sometime when we're not about to be turned into drowned rats; this sounds like a bad one. If anybody starts asking about how to convert cubits into modern measurements, I'm heading for the Himalayas. …Nah. Can't be that bad, right?

Friday, September 18th, 2009, After School

Pounding down the street to the dorm, wishing he'd at least thought to wear his duster to school this one time, Minato cursed himself for tempting Fate. Oh, yeah! Sure it can't be that bad! Dammit, "Detective", how many times do you have to draw the wrath of Murphy on your own head before you learn never to test Irony's sense of humor?!

By the time he reached the dorm's welcoming doors, he was thinking in other languages, Japanese simply not having enough epithets to adequately sum up the situation. Naoto, he was sure, would've given him a very nasty look if she'd heard half of what he was thinking, but just then he didn't care. He hadn't been this soaked since Tsu-chan reversed the space compression on the Ship in a Bottle and nearly sank the both of them to the bottom of the Pacific.

A wet school uniform, he was quickly discovering, made things even worse.

After nearly slipping and cracking his head on wet concrete, Minato yanked open the front door and darted in, slamming it behind him with none of his usual subtlety. The rain continued to pound, but mercifully muted; even so, he had the irrational impression that it sounded frustrated, like a weather god's thwarted wrath.

"You look like a drowned sailor, Minato. Didn't make it to a lifeboat in time?"

For a few moments, Minato was too busy shivering to do more than send Junpei a stern glance; hardly the full-blown death glare he really wanted. He hated being cold. Even with all the bad memories associated with the idea, he'd rather be in a building that was on fire than be freezing cold.

Even when the dorm's warmth started to sink in, though, he didn't really have the heart to pull of a really good glare. Nor the energy. Instead, he plodded over to the common area, where practically the whole team had gathered—then paused uncertainly, next to one of the armchairs.

"Sit, Arisato," Mitsuru told him from the opposite chair, recognizing his hesitation. "You won't ruin it this once. Rest, then get changed."

Gratefully, Minato sagged into the chair. "Thanks, Senpai… Seems like the entire Pacific's been upended on us."

"The weather service says it's the biggest one in years," Fuuka offered, glancing up from her laptop. And it's slowing down; they think it'll be hear until at least Monday."

"So much for the Culture Festival," Junpei said with a sigh, in between bites of instant ramen. "We'll be lucky if we don't find the school grounds all torn up."

Yukari made a disgusted sound. "I don't want the school damaged, Junpei, but I'm not really complaining about the festival being canceled. You weren't going to have to dress up like an idiot."

"Hey, I wasn't exactly looking forward to it, either," he said defensively. "It's a pain to set it all up. I don't mind missing out on that. I'm just not lookin' forward to being stuck indoors for days, that's all." Junpei took a few moments to polish off his ramen, then shot a glance at his still-shivering compatriot. "What about you, Minato? Got any plans for the break—assuming the weather ever lets us outta the dorm again?"

"Depends on how much of the city is still above water," Minato said dryly, leaning back in the chair with a distinct squish. "I was actually thinking of going home for a couple of days, visit with my sister for a bit, but it looks like I wouldn't be there long enough to bother at this point."

He wasn't too happy about that. He didn't get to see Naoto enough as it was, these days; while he was sure she'd be perfectly happy to visit him for a change, Minato didn't want her figuring out any more about what SEES was up to that she already had. I'll just have to settle for calling her, I guess… Well, I wanted to get Grandfather's input on Ken, anyway. It'll have to do.

Junpei looked at him skeptically. "So, what, you're just gonna sit around, instead? Even after the storm's gone?"

"Didn't say that. Figured I might as well get in some practice; I really should have weeks ago, but I've either been busy or broken around the edges." Seeing the look on Junpei's face—the "you're doing homework on break?!" look—Minato rolled his eyes. "Not that kind of practice, Junpei. Remember the gadget Naoto gave me when she was in town for the Kendo Tournament?"

"Oh. That kind of practice." The Man in the Hat nodded sagely, his attempt at looking wise spoiled by the grin fighting its way onto his face. "Now that sounds more like it!"

"Arisato," Mitsuru said evenly, looking up from her book, "you wouldn't be planning anything reckless, would you?"

This, from the girl who likes bikes? You can say what you want about obeying traffic laws, Senpai, but I'm pretty sure you were treating speed limits as suggestions the other night. Not that Minato had been complaining, exactly… "Would you rather I tried it in the middle of an operation without testing it first, Senpai?"

She visibly weighed that, no doubt remembering his impromptu rappelling stunt back in June, and possibly his improvised bomb a couple months later. Of course, so far he'd managed to survive his improvisations, but… "Point taken, Arisato," Mitsuru said with a sigh. "Just be careful. We don't need you getting a concussion from swinging face-first into a building."

"That's what practice is for, Senpai. To avoid that, I mean."

Minato wasn't sure he liked the grin he caught lurking on Akihiko's face. Much as Naoto liked to say he and the boxer had a lot in common, it always made him nervous when Akihiko seemed to approve that much of his less conventional ideas. And don't even get me started on Junpei being excited about it…

Junpei seemed content to leave it at that, though, so at least Minato didn't have to deal with him asking to borrow the grappling gun. "So, what about you, Fuuka-chan?" he asked, turning to his next target. "Got any big plans?"

Glancing up again from her laptop, Fuuka shrugged, smiling. "Oh, nothing that elaborate," she said. "I was just planning to go to the movies."

Wrong thing to say, perhaps, around the man who'd assumed there was something going on between Minato and Yukari when the former had only even been in town a few hours. "Well, well," Junpei drawled, a knowing look on his face. "Does that mean you've got a date, Fuuka-chan?"

Tired and wet, Minato was feeling a tad less charitable than he had in recent months, and rolled his eyes. Junpei, I know you didn't grow up surrounded by detectives, but seriously. I think we'd have noticed something like that.

"Nothing like that!" Fuuka said quickly, blushing—after shooting a quick glance at Minato, puzzling him slightly. "I was going to go with Natsuki-chan, that's all. She loves movies… But with the typhoon, I don't know if we'll be able to after all."

"You'll be lucky if the theater's even open after this," Yukari agreed with a sigh. "I'll probably be skipping on practice as it is. The archery range is outdoors… Heck, after the break we might even have to make some repairs, with all this rain."

"I hear ya." Akihiko sighed. "This stupid typhoon is going to completely screw up my training schedule for at least a week…"

And that, right there, is where Naoto's got it wrong. Whatever fondness I may have for adrenaline, pure physical training bores me to tears. I don't know how Akihiko-senpai does it. Sure, Minato enjoyed sparring, and a good run got the blood pumping nicely, but Akihiko's single-minded fixation was something he'd never understood.

Well, to each his own, I guess.

He sank deeper into the chair, heedless of how wet he was getting it, and drowsily contemplated letting himself drop off then and there. Until, that was, Junpei spoke up again.

"So, what about you, Senpai? You got any special plans, or are you just gonna study all weekend?"

"…I'm not sure yet. I'm reasonably caught up at the moment…" Minato thought Mitsuru sent a considering look his way, but before he could decide for sure, she was looking at Junpei with a deceptively mild expression. "I'm not quite sure what business it is of yours, though, Iori."

"Hey, I was just askin'," Junpei said, raising his hands defensively. "Y'know, I'd be happy to tell everybody what I've got planned for the break. I mean, fair's fair, right?"

If he'd had more energy, Minato might've pointed out that it wasn't exactly a difficult deduction to make. Fortunately, he didn't need to, though he wasn't sure if the person who did so instead proved his point, or her own nature.

"I predict that you will be visiting Chidori-san," Aigis said. Up to now, she'd been standing by the TV with Koromaru, seemingly uninterested in the conversation; Minato wondered idly what had gotten her attention. With her strange priorities, he couldn't even venture a guess. "Though her condition is stable now, we cannot risk releasing her from our custody."

If Junpei was bothered by being read so easily, he didn't show it. He only flashed a grin, the same bright one Minato had seen from him so often in recent days. "You must be psychic, Ai-chan! Well, I guess having a computer in your head has its advantages, right? But you know what's really great? She wants me to come!"

I still do not know what's going on with all of that. She tried to kill you, Junpei, and not in the "snapped and turned into a berserk demon against her will" way. …Not that she's making a lot more sense herself. Hell, maybe you two are made for each other.

…Good luck, Junpei.

"So," Fuuka said suddenly, looking up again with a kind of sly smile Minato wasn't used to seeing from her. "I guess that means you do have a date, Junpei-kun?"

"Urk!" Junpei's grin froze, melting into a kind of awkward look that defied precise description. "Well, ah, y'know, I am the one she knew before things got, um, messy. And I figured I should check up on her after all this, I mean, with the storm and everything—"

Well, well. Nice shot, Fuuka… I haven't seen someone that flustered since the last time Tsu-chan really turned up the charm.

"Anyway!" Junpei said quickly, visibly casting about for a distraction. "Hey, Ken! What're your plans for the break?"

Up to now, Ken, like Aigis, had been silent, distant; he was barely even close enough to be considered part of the conversation at all. His expression, what Minato could see of it from his slouched position anyway, was subdued. "Oh," he said quietly, now that he'd been called on, "I don't have any special in mind."

"Yeah? C'mon, there's gotta be something you got to do. You're just gonna waste the break?"

A subtle shrug. "I figure I'll probably just visit the shrine, is all."

Junpei blinked. "Dude. You're eleven, not sixty. That's seriously where you're gonna spend your time off from school? You're not an old man, y'know."

Another shrug. "It's where I always go. You… I guess you could say I made a vow." Ken hesitated, looking like he was thinking about saying more, then shook his head fractionally. "Anyway. I should go back to my room. If I don't get caught up on my homework, I'll be doing that for the break, instead."

The goateed student studied him skeptically, before shrugging himself. "Well, okay. Let me know if you get stuck, all right?"

Minato watched the young boy head for the stairs. That kid has not had a good childhood, he thought. At least I had Grandfather and Naoto, after Mom and Dad died, and after that I was okay until Saya… Damn. Ken's relatives have a lot to answer for, leaving him by himself like this.

Definitely need to call home about this.

Calling home wound up not being terribly high on Minato's priority list over the next couple of days. As soon as he went to bed the night the typhoon arrived, he dropped off—and stayed that way. Taken ill from the soaking he received from the typhoon's fringe, he knew nothing of the real world for hours, then days.

The real world was in abeyance—which didn't mean his mind was at rest. Fever dreams, perhaps. The strange constructs of a subconscious stressed out by too many near-death experiences in one month; although given some of what he remembered afterward, perhaps his confused social life was at least as much responsible for the oddities of his mind.

Or some of his Personas having fun. Once or twice, in the strange dreams, he was sure he heard Pixie and the Leanansidhe laughing in the back of his mind.

Minato had taken some rough falls in his time, for a fascinating variety of reasons, but he was pretty sure this was the first time he'd had a floor simply collapse beneath his feet. The labyrinth had been bad enough as it was up to now; that one, he hadn't been expecting, even with the bizarre questions he'd been asked immediately before.

"Ouch," he muttered, pushing himself off the—fortunately not too hard—ground. "Somebody fire the architect…"

"That was certainly unexpected," Mitsuru agreed from beside him, helping him to his feet. "I didn't anticipate the floor giving way like that." She glanced around at their new surroundings, which seemed mostly to consist of a field of grass, with a vague, rainbow-hued sky. "It looks like we're the only ones who fell… Huh?"

Right. Minato had just noticed it himself, and wondered if it was wrong that his first concern was the potential upcoming "execution".

"Why are you holding my hand, Arisato?!" she demanded, trying to tug her right hand free from his left. "W-why can't I let go?!"

"I don't know!" Unaccustomed panic flared, Minato knowing far better than he'd like just how extreme Mitsuru's reaction could get if her temper was lost; and if anything was likely to set off his Senpai, it was something like this. "It—feels like glue or something—"

"It seems you have arrived at your destination."

Mitsuru jerked again, pulling painfully at their joined hands. "W-who's there?!" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

He recognized the voice as the one that had asked him those strange questions, but didn't have any better idea of who or what it actually was. It seemed mechanical and emotionless; that was all he could even guess at. Apparently, I was the only one who heard it. Unless Seta did, too? Gah; with his crew, who knows what's happening—

"This seems to be a path where lovers who meet their destined partner discuss their love for each other. What could be waiting up ahead?"

Oh, hell. I'm dead. He hadn't thought anything of the questions asked of him, figuring it was just another oddity of this bizarre place. If I'd known it was going to end up like this, I'd have kept my damned mouth shut!

"You are free to step forth hand-in-hand, curiosity and fear in your hearts, or you may refrain."

"L-lovers?!" Mitsuru sputtered. "What are you—?!"

"You are free to step forth, or refrain from doing so," the mechanical voice said, rolling right over her protests. "Those are your apparent options. Now, step forth!"

"Wait! What about our hands?!" When the voice made no further comment, she clenched her free hand and glared at nothing—or perhaps everything. "This is ridiculous! Don't tell me we're stuck in this condition!"

Minato knew his Senpai's moods pretty well by now. Flustered was one he hadn't seen much, and was beginning to make him extremely nervous, made worse by the fact that he literally couldn't get out of reach if she did something drastic. I'd rather be holding a grenade without a pin! It'd be safer!

Ah, but not half as much fun, right, Master? At least something good is coming out of this place!

Speak for yourself, Fae harlot! We are in grave danger!

Can it, peanut gallery! Studiously not looking at Mitsuru's face—or her increasing blush—Minato cleared his throat. "For what it's worth, Senpai, we're in this together."

"Th-that is reassuring, Arisato," she replied, staring in the opposite direction. "I'm sure I can rely on you—but it's also part of the problem!" Mitsuru cut off whatever else she might've said, coughed, and turned her attention to the ground. "…No, you're right. That's something, at least. W-we can't let something like held hands throw us off; losing our composure it just what the enemy wants."

And it's working, too. If he hadn't had so much experience with a certain green-haired gadfly, Minato was sure he'd have spontaneously combusted on the spot himself. As it was, with everything else that had happened between him and Mitsuru over the past few months, he was afraid his face was going to catch fire anyway.

Right. Detective, remember? Focus on the situation. "There has to be some way out of this, Senpai," he said after clearing his throat. "We just have to find it."

Mitsuru nodded emphatically. "Yes, you're right. Let's look around—quickly."

It was quickly apparent that there wasn't much too see. The universe ended, for all intents and purposes, within a few meters to either side of the path through the field, so the only way to go seemed to be straight ahead. Something, it was clear, was waiting for them, even if the air seemed oddly too blurry to see clearly beyond a couple of meters.

Still, I definitely see something, Minato thought as they walked in forced unison, trying not to think about his left hand. Is that… a picture frame?

"Suddenly, all in attendance hear an announcement."

All? Minato felt a chill. If anyone else sees this, we're never living it down!

"That voice!" Mitsuru teeth clenched hard enough for him to hear it. "What's its scheme now?"

"Up ahead, they see a bride and groom's joyous commemorative photograph of love."

Urk.

"They confer between them whether to look at it, or ignore it."

"Bride and groom?!" Mitsuru darted closer, dragging Minato along in her haste. "W-what is the meaning of this?! That can't be right!"

Yep. Execution for sure. Actually, probably a kinder fate than if anybody else ever saw this. This close, Minato could see it clearly: a classic—one might say cheesy—wedding photo, with himself dressed like some European noble, with Mitsuru in a classic wedding dress held in his arms. If Junpei ever saw this—or Yukari, for that matter… Oh, and let's not forget Senpai's father. Ninkyo-dantai or no, he is a Yakuza boss. Not good, very not good…

"This can't be right," Mitsuru said again, voice going up in pitch. "This is—like you and I had gotten… m-married!" She shook her head violently. "I don't remember any such thing!"

Interesting, is it not, that she does not seem to denounce the idea completely? the Leanansidhe purred in the back of Minato's mind. Mm… very interesting, indeed…

There were advantages to growing up around detectives and survived more than a few near-death experiences, and this time it probably saved his life: even in the midst of his anxiety and Mitsuru's nigh-explosive level of embarrassment, he still examined the photo carefully. Carefully enough to see that something wasn't quite right.

"Senpai," he said quickly, "look closer. This picture's been manipulated."

"Huh?!" Mitsuru broke free of whatever thoughts had gripped her, and leaned closer to the photo. "Ah… yes, of course it has!" She relaxed, tension going out of the hand still locked with his. "I should've realized at once. In this place, creating such a forgery would be simple for whatever entity brought us here."

Oh, good. I may survive the next five minutes after all.

"It certainly fits with the general scenario," Minato agreed, trying to further defuse the tension. "Whoever—or whatever—set this up has a worse sense of humor than I do."

The sardonic look she favored him with was reassuringly closer to her usual self. "That's quite the admission from you, Arisato, given the kind of tales you're fond of telling." Mitsuru cleared her throat. "A-at any rate, let's move on. The sooner we get out of here, the better."

He wasn't about to quibble on that point. Deep down, he couldn't quite say he wasn't enjoying the situation at all, but any "fun" he was having was far outweighed by his healthy respect for Mitsuru's temper. He'd been genuinely pleased to see it inflicted on that damned bear that hung around with the other team, but he had no intention of risking it turning against himself if he could avoid it.

The forced hand-holding, of course, was one bit of awkwardness that neither of them could quite escape, however much they both tried to ignore it.

As they walked toward a structure that gradually came into view through the blurry air, Mitsuru coughed lightly. "By the way, Arisato," she began, not quite looking in his direction, "there's something I'd like to ask you."

Minato lifted an eyebrow. "Senpai?"

"It's nothing important, just…" She coughed again. "Is it… well, is it normal for a bride and groom to pose like in that picture?"

Eh?

"I mean, for me, just holding hands is so embarrassing, I feel like dying on the spot… Getting that close to someone…"

Has to be the location, Minato told himself firmly, trying to force down his heart rate. No way Senpai would be talking like this in anything resembling a sane place. Only because reality is out to lunch, yeah—

Suddenly, Mitsuru shook her head violently. "No, never mind! Forget I said anything!" She looked away, but not before he caught a hint of returning blush. "It doesn't matter anyway!"

"Ah, right." When this is over, I'm going to find whatever did this to us, and set it on fire. A lot. Unbidden came the mental image of picking Mitsuru up just as the manipulated photo had showed, and he quickly squashed it with an imagined Agidyne. That was not helping!

Neither was the wordless chuckle from a certain Persona who combined Pixie's general attitude with a most inconveniently-apt Arcana.

"All that aside," Mitsuru said, determinedly advancing again, "the temperature seems unnaturally high here. I'm feeling quite warm, and sweating quite a bit…"

"I noticed. The temperature, I mean," Minato clarified hurriedly. "Kind of makes me wish I hadn't worn my coat, this once." Yep, it's just the heat. The heat, and the stupid games that voice is playing with us. We get out of here, everything will be back to normal.

Yes, you go ahead and keep telling yourself that, Master…

"All the more reason to find the end of this charade and escape, then. Let's keep going, Arisato."

Straight on, it was, and for a short time things seemed almost normal again. A very short time, to Minato's despair, when he noticed first a heart-shaped archway over the path, and beyond it, a clearer view of the building they'd been heading for from the start. A building he desperately hoped wasn't what it looked like.

His hopes were swiftly dashed by the voice that once again intruded and turned the mood completely upside-down.

"The long-awaited moment has come. The bride and groom are finally about to enter. The last moment of hesitation has arrived before you are to be wed."

Ack!

"What?!" Mitsuru blurted, almost yanking Minato's arm from its socket. "B-bride and groom?! You-you can't possible mean Arisato and me—!"

Had he been calmer, Minato might've taken offense at that. Being as he was too terrified—and flustered—for rational thought, he could only share her sentiment.

"Through your own free will, you decide to vow eternal love to each other."

I'm so dead.

"That's absurd!" If Mitsuru's face got any redder, Minato was sure, she'd burst into flames. As it was, her voice seemed liable to ignite the very air around them. "I-I have the Kirijo Group to consider, and we're not even—this isn't—!"

Ye gads, and I thought things with Tsu-chan could get awkward, Minato thought in increasing horror. I mean—it's not like I don't think Senpai is—but this is nuts!

The voice didn't seem interested in their protests. "Now, open the door," it said, and without waiting for any kind of reply, the church doors did indeed swing open. No longer seeming content with letting them move at their own pace, something pushed them forward and into the interior.

A fairly ordinary church, a still-rational fragment of Minato's brain recognized. No visible guests, but it certainly looked like it had been set up for a wedding. It even had the cliché wedding march playing from an invisible organ, as if to make the point abundantly clear.

And me without even a tux, he thought wildly. It's official: I can't possibly be awake. This is all just a horrible fever dream from that typhoon; that explains why Naoto's hanging out with a group of lunatics and there's another of me running around casting Tsu-chan-style magic.

"You must vow your unwavering love for one another, in sickness and in health."

Yeah. Just a nightmare. No way that hideous, obnoxious bear thing could actually be real. The universe can't possibly be that cruel. And Senpai and I cannot possibly be in a situation like this at all…

"Now, vow your love."

"Stop it…!"

Monday, September 21st, 2009, Early Morning

With a gasp, Minato snapped awake, sitting bolt upright in his bed. He looked around wildly, not sure exactly what he was frightened of, but knowing something hadn't been right, not so long ago. The surroundings, the people, the circumstances, all of it was wrong—

But no. All he saw was his own room in the SEES dorm. He was alone, nothing was out of place, and the only thing that seemed at all off was the condition of his own body.

Minato felt… weak. As if he'd slept for days, which from foggy his head felt seemed might have been the case. Actually, it felt as if it had been even longer than that, but he was pretty sure he'd have been moved to the Kirijo-owned hospital had that been the case.

But it has been way longer than one night, he thought, and groggily hauled himself out of bed. Let's see… clock says eight in the morning, but which morning…? Minato carefully made his way to his computer, feeling strength gradually return to his limbs. Hm… Monday? Must have been quite the cold I caught. Guess my overactive regeneration already took care of it.

Good thing it was a school break. As it was, he hoped he hadn't worried the rest of the team. That settles it: if I even suspect rain, I'm bringing a freaking umbrella! But for right now, I'd better actually show everybody I'm not dead. Besides, I haven't eaten in over two days.

After pulling on some casual clothes, Minato slipped out of his room and headed for the stairs. The surroundings of the dorm felt comfortingly familiar, after the long sleep he'd had; he couldn't remember the details very well, but he knew he'd had some very strange dreams. Fragments involving his sister—who seemed older, oddly, and much stronger—and a group he couldn't quite picture, other than a truly obnoxious animate stuffed animal, and his own eerie twin.

And, he remembered suddenly, face heating, a truly improbable scenario involving his Senpai. That, too, was fragmentary, but clearer than the rest—uncomfortably so.

As he made his way down to the lounge, Minato tried very, very hard to put that completely out of his head. Enough awkwardness had actually happened between them as it was; he did not need nightmares about weddings popping into his head when he was talking with her. Not that I don't think she's attractive or anything, but seriously! That's just—no. Not a good idea to even think about it, no matter how well we get along these days.

Or how nice it is to ride a motorbike with her?

You are not helping, Pixie.

When he reached the lounge, Minato found about half the team already there, despite the—for a day off—early hour. He didn't see any sign of Akihiko, Ken, or Koromaru, and on further examination realized Junpei was also missing. Visiting Chidori, probably, he thought. Good for him… I think. The others seemed to be accounted for, though, including to his surprise Shinjiro.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Fuuka was the first to notice his arrival. Glancing up from her laptop at one of the couches, she flashed him a relieved smile. "Minato-kun, you're awake!"

Mitsuru looked up immediately from her book, and—strangely, Minato thought—seemed to blush faintly. "Ah, Arisato," she said, at least keeping her voice nonchalant. "It's good to see you up. Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Yukari agreed, putting aside her breakfast and fashion magazine. "You were asleep for days! You know how worried we were? Bad enough the last time you pulled that on us; this time we knew there actually was something wrong with you. Mitsuru-senpai even sent Aigis in to look after you!"

Minato turned his attention back to Mitsuru, who coughed lightly. "My apologies for the intrusion, Arisato, but when you didn't come out after a day, it seemed justified. Illness of that severity isn't something to be taken lightly."

"…Fair enough," he conceded, heading for the dining area and its cupboards. "How bad was it, anyway? I'm just feeling a bit tired now, but I can tell it wasn't good."

"Mild pneumonia," Aigis supplied from near the TV, looking oddly relieved herself at his arrival. "I hypothesize your prolonged sleep was due to your regenerative factor combating the illness. You were, however, delirious for a short time."

Delirious? Minato froze, one hand a package of instant ramen. Uh-oh. If I was talking in my sleep, I really hope it wasn't about that crazy wedding nonsense. I'd feel better if I'd been rambling about the warehouse than about that. Safer, that's for sure.

Unfortunately, it did seem likely to explain Mitsuru's apparent embarrassment. But then wouldn't she be looking even worse, were that the case?

No. That seemed to distract her from whatever was getting to her, because the blush disappeared then, replaced with a concerned look. "You didn't say much, Arisato, but according to Aigis you did mumble about a labyrinth, and something about your sister. And… 'that damned perverted bear'?" she added uncertainly. "I don't mean to pry, Arisato, but given the context of some of your remarks… do the words 'Zen' or 'Rei' mean anything to you? Apparently in the context of names?"

Minato frowned, moving the ramen to the microwave. "Can't say I've ever heard of anyone named Zen before. Rei… Hm. An anime character or two, I guess. Or 'zero', or 'snow'…?" Was it…? No, I can't even remember if it was snowing that day. It was January, sure, but the fire and the blood are what I really remember. "No, Senpai," he said finally, "I can't think of anything that matches that. I did have some pretty weird dreams, though, so who knows what my subconscious might've come up with."

"Fever dreams are like that," Shinjiro interjected from his dark corner. "Lucky you heal so fast, Arisato." He snorted; though his heart didn't really seem to be in it. "Hey, you've got that big coat. Wear the damn thing next time, if you're not gonna take an umbrella."

"I'll bear that in mind, Senpai."

Another snort, more sincere this time, but it seemed Shinjiro had given up on trying to correct the form of address. "Well, the important thing is you got better. Just be more careful next time."

For some reason, Fuuka seemed to be hiding a smile. Given what Minato knew about her powers, he took that as support for his own suspicion that the delinquent wasn't quite as cold and irritable as he liked to act.

"Shinjiro-senpai's right, Minato," Yukari told him firmly, returning to her breakfast. "Junpei's the one who's supposed to act like that, not you."

"Acknowledged and understood," Minato said, shaking his head. "I got it, guys." Taking his ramen out and sitting across from Yukari, he continued, "Speaking of Junpei, is he at the hospital again?"

"Visiting Chidori," Mitsuru confirmed. "He did ask after you before he left, but he noted that you were likely to wake up as if nothing happened soon enough, whereas Chidori… tends to need more supervision." She didn't need to explain that one; she wasn't doing it as much, but Minato knew she hadn't completely given up her strange self-harm habits. "I expect he'll be spending most of the remaining break much the same way. Speaking of," she added, looking him over carefully, "I won't try to tell you how to spend yours, Arisato, but I would ask that you take it easy for today, at least. You can test out that toy of yours when you've had a chance to wake up."

"Fair enough, Senpai."

She knows you well now, Master. Didn't even try to ask you not to try out Naoto's grapple-gun. An ethereal chuckle in the back of his mind. Maybe she knows she's on thin ice, now that she knows you know about her high-speed hobby?

In Senpai's defense, there is a slight difference between bending traffic laws and imitating a shounen hero. Slight.

Mitsuru looked at him a moment longer, then nodded, the faintest trace of a blush appearing again. "Good. In that case, all I ask is that you be discrete, Arisato; we don't need any odd rumors going around. Odder than there already are," she amended. "I'd appreciate some idea of where you're doing it, however, just in case."

Of Strega getting bold again, Minato finished silently. "I'll let you know when I figure it out myself, Senpai," he promised, and dug into his ramen.

I don't expect trouble, though. Without Chidori, they won't be able to hide so easily, and I won't be unarmed, or without means of escape. This should just be some relaxing practice, getting ready for whatever crazy setup the next Full Moon Shadow uses.

Just three more of those, on top of Strega being hurt. Maybe, just maybe, the storm is almost over. We just need to ride it out to the end.

Author's Note:

Well. Um. Yeah, I guess trying to predict my posting schedule isn't working out so well. In my—slight—defense, things got a bit chaotic this month—not that that's anything new with me, to be sure—but… Well. I'll not bother trying to lay out a litany of excuses.

I will say, the next chapter's timeframe will largely depend on how much trouble I have with the Shadow portion of the Full Moon. I admit to having some difficulty writing those… But I have a pretty darn good idea of how I'll be handling the real meat of October 4th, though the formatting may be slightly odd (normally, you may note, I prefer to scene break when switching perspectives; however, for October 4th, I seem to have a choice between alternating perspectives in one scene, or repeating my experiment with Chapter VII, which didn't seem to go over very well). So if I can get past the one part of it, it shouldn't take too long.

Not crazy enough to make any promises, though. Not after the last couple of chapters.

As for this one… It turned out a bit different from how I expected, honestly. I didn't plan on it being so Minato/Mitsuru centric, for one thing, and I'm a tad iffy on the Persona Q bit I inserted. Not so much that it's effectively a non sequitur—dream sequences often are, and that's how Minato perceives it—but that I may have overdone it just a bit.

Meh. I may think this one is a tad disjointed, but… Y'know what, I think I've done worse. I'll let you guys judge it for yourselves. In the meantime, I'll be plotting Chapter XXII: In the Pale Moonlight. See you then, comrades. -Solid