A/N: So we're almost at the end of summer arc, with this chapter being second last. It's completely opposite to the previous chapter in the sense that it is much shorter and almost all exposition. If you've been reading from the beginning, it's another one of those character specific chapters.

I've deliberately avoided naming the two main characters featured here as to try something new but if you've played the game or watched the movies, you'll know who both of them are.

Enjoy the chapter and as for what's coming next, it will be the promised 'large' moment between Minato and Mitsuru.


He watched her.

He had no idea how he hadn't noticed her earlier when he arrived at Port Island Station. Long red hair. Snowy complexion. She was a doll out of a very high budget movie. Perhaps one that had something to do with vampires, given her costume of a Gothic white dress, white stockings, heeled shoes, and a frilly headband that would have made her right at home in Mitsuru's mansion if it weren't for the dagger attached to it.

Maybe she's an actress shooting a scene right now, he thought. Like seriously, who sits in the middle of a train station looking like that, and just writes in their notebook?

He felt proud and smart to arrive at such a conclusion but as he looked around, he realized that there were no cameramen or filming crew anywhere. Just the usual flow of people on a Thursday afternoon during the summer break; businessmen hurrying around and speaking into their cell phones, students walking in and out of the cinema, young couples enjoying each other's company at the block of cafes and restaurants.

Man, how do I keep coming up with crazy crap like that?

He shook his head, relieved that he hadn't spoken those thoughts aloud as well as the fact that Yukari was back at the dorm. If she had been here, he could expect another of those usual comments about how he was stupid. And then he'd tell her he isn't stupid and she'd say 'Oh yes you are' before following up with one of the many stories she knew of him failing epically and how that mistake is related to the mistake he made just then and…

Yeesh.

He turned his attention back to the Gothic girl sitting on the edge of a flowerbed filled with red astilbes. As he admired how well the backdrop of Gekkoukan High beneath an amber sky suited her, it occurred to him that he was interested to find out who she was, what she was about, and whatever she was doing with that notebook. It was an unusual feeling, and although there were plenty of attractive girls in school, none of them made him feel this attracted.

It's gotta be the hair. That red color… Dammit Minato! You passed over your thing for redheads!

He suppressed a chuckle and sighed. He admitted Mitsuru wasn't the first girl he thought Minato would go for (his initial bet was Yukari), but after all the time the two had spent together and their hardships with each full moon operation, he understood to some degree how they…clicked. There was chemistry and for him, it was especially notable in Tartarus, where it was a joy to watch them fight off Shadows with such impeccable coordination. He wasn't sure if the others noticed this but even if they didn't, they would have at least seen how their moods lifted whenever they were around each other.

The signs for them to get together were all there and Minato had yet to ask her out. He'd been wondering what exactly was taking his friend so long to ask a simple question though supposed that it wasn't as easy as it looked to be. Despite their closeness, Mitsuru was still the most admired girl in the school after all. First class grades. First class looks. A prestigious family name. Compared to her, Minato wasn't doing so well in the school's social ranking (the norm for transfer students in Gekkoukan High, even those who aced the exams) and already had enough haters to fill a fleet of double-decker buses. If they ever got together, it would have to be in secret with the utmost discretion. Doing anything else would risk students finding out and the fact that they were working together in the Student Council wouldn't help them much. But knowing Gekkoukan High students and their knack for amassing tons of information, true and false, the secret would eventually leak out somehow and as far as he was concerned, that would mark the end of his high schooling life.

As well as countless others.

Regardless, that wasn't factoring in how his friend would go about in handling what was definitely the more troublesome obstacle. Mitsuru's father. From the meetings in Yakushima, he knew Takeharu was a daunting individual who obviously wanted his daughter to be dating someone of a similar social status. It was how the world worked. Rich people getting richer by getting together with other rich people. Perhaps Takeharu had a suitor waiting for her. Perhaps she was already seeing that suitor. He often wondered why Mitsuru came back at very late hours on some days, sometimes looking sad and irritated, other times looking happy and content. If that was because she was truly seeing someone else, then what chance did Minato have? What could his friend offer her that other rich people couldn't?

Slow the thoughts dude. He has every chance as that fake rich asshole. Hell, he has more cos fighting together like this does things to people that regular dating can't. And as for Kirijo-san, well, with brains like theirs, they'll be able to work something out.

In any case, he admired Minato's tenacity of really going after what he wanted. He remembered how Minato hadn't shown too much interest when they were speaking of last year's prank – something most guys would have celebrated over. I guess that's what happens when you have someone you like. You got a reason to keep fighting. A purpose to keep living.

He wasn't sure that he could say that he had a reason to fight with confidence. After the revelation at Yakushima and the encounter with Strega, he had been questioning if he really wanted this whole ordeal to be over. It was the right thing to do to end the suffering the Shadows had caused but at the same time, the fighting would come to a close. And if Takaya was to be believed, everything would end. No more forays into Tartarus. No more Personas. No more being a hero at night. The only thing left was to finish school and if he was good enough and didn't fail the entrance exams (which was going to be a reality with his grades), maybe get lucky enough to go to university. He'd return to his former, pathetic ordinary life. He found it odd at how someone as crazy as Takaya could be so correct and while he didn't fully agree that the Dark Hour should be kept around, he did see its merits with more clarity.

C'mon man, there's gotta be a way out of this mess. Think.

He thought hard, and as his eyes darted back to the Gothic girl, he realized she was the answer. At least, she had the potential to be. Meeting and dating a pretty girl was something he always wanted to do and now, with someone so stunning in front of him, was the perfect opportunity to do so. By having someone to protect, to fight for, he would have a renewed reason to fight and be able to ignore Takaya's threats. He doubted it would reach the level of what Mitsuru meant to Minato but it was a start.

"Move."

He blinked. Who had said that? He glanced around, searching for anyone who might have wanted him to–

"Did you not hear me? I said move."

He turned in the direction of the soft, feminine voice and found himself looking at the Gothic girl again. Was it her who spoke? He thought not for her eyes were still focused on her notebook but then who else in the vicinity had a voice like that? No, it had to be her and realizing that it was made him panic.

Crap. This is not how I want my first impression to be.

"Uh, s-sorry," he said.

He moved out of her line of sight but kept her in view as he headed towards the escalator that went up to the train platform. The girl remained silent and continued to scribble in her notebook. From where he stood, her pen movements implied that she was drawing something.

"What do you want?"

Her voice caught him off guard once again and he froze, unsure of what to do.

"If you have nothing to say," she continued without looking at him, "then get out of my way. I can't see."

He considered arguing that he wasn't even blocking her view of anything but decided against it. There was no need to make a scene here, especially over something so trivial. Adjusting his cap, he turned, ascended the escalator, walked to the platform and boarded the train back to the dorm. He couldn't believe at how fast she had rejected him and didn't bother looking him in the eye. It was as if he was a mere peasant who would be punished for just looking at a high ranking noble. Disappointment filled his otherwise empty mind and as the train zoomed to Iwatodai Station, he couldn't stop thinking about whether it could've gone any differently.

Oh who am I kiddin'? There's no way it could have gone any differently. She wasn't even interested in anything but her notebook! Exiting the train and leaving the station, he gazed at the tall building not too far in the distance that was the dorm.

Maybe I was wrong, he thought while walking. Maybe she isn't meant to be that person.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense to him. Meeting a girl like that and later having that girl as a partner was something you could find in cheap romantic paperbacks. It was fiction. Not reality. Still, there was something about her that intrigued him and not being able to know what it was annoyed him.

If this is how Minato feels in not knowing if Mitsuru-senpai likes him that way, then I can see how I pissed him off back at Shirakawa. Cos it makes you feel like shit. Man, how the hell has he been coping with it for so long?

It was a question he mentally noted down to ask Minato later and after storing it in his 'to do' list, a thought came flying into his mind like the way a pigeon would sometimes fly straight into a glass window. If the girl was drawing something, which he was sure of considering her pen moved in different directions and not from left to right, then she had to be drawing her own rendition of Port Island Station. And if she hadn't finished yet, then she would need to go back there to capture whatever details she had missed.

He smiled. There was still a chance to see her and talk to her properly. Keeping his hopes up, he returned to Port Island Station the very next day at the same time.

And did not see her sitting by the edge of the flowerbed.

He frowned, and thinking that he arrived too early, he sat on one of the benches outside the cinema and searched through the flow of people for a girl with long red hair in a white Gothic dress.

A minute passed. No luck. Well that was okay. A minute was too short.

He waited another minute.

Then five.

Then fifteen.

He waited until the sun left the sky bruised and the station was beginning to fill with the rush hour crowd before deciding she wasn't going to show up. It was still okay, he told himself. She could be busy with other things and probably didn't have time for drawing today.

I'll just come back tomorrow.

And so he did.

With no success.

As he made his way back to the dorm, he thought it possible that drawing could be a weekly activity for her. Not a daily one. After all, she hadn't been at the Station in the last two days and he was certain he would have seen her if she had been wearing the same outfit. Thinking that that was the case, he decided to return to Port Island Station in five days' time – exactly a week after he first saw her. Although it didn't guarantee seeing her, it would at least save him from wasting time.

So he waited. The days trudged along, the speed at which they passed that of a sloth's. He wondered if he had made the right choice in deciding to wait it out like this, that his assumption of her turning up in five days' time was correct. It worried him that at any time, she could be there at the station and he was hanging around somewhere else. There were only a finite number of times she would need to be there before her drawing would be completed and if he had to judge her progress, it was safer to assume she was almost done than just beginning.

After what felt like a month, the day finally arrived. The waiting wasn't over yet however, and throughout the morning and early afternoon, he found it hard to contain his restlessness. For once, he was glad to get into arguments with Yukari. It helped relieved the stress. Once the sun had begun its preparation of calling it a day, he was out of the dorm and on his way to Port Island Station. This was it. He was going to see her again. Thoughts of how their meeting would unfold this time popped into his mind but he pushed them aside to focus on how he would approach her.

I definitely can't stare at her again. And I can't stand so that I'm blocking whatever it is I'm blocking. What should I do?

He was still thinking when the train arrived and was so lost in his thoughts that he almost forgot to disembark. Scrambling to his feet, he left the train and groaned when he saw the crowd. Although it should have been busier on the opposite platform – the one heading back to Iwatodai – there was just as many people on this side. He followed the mass of people down the stairs and upon reaching the station, he began slipping through whatever gaps he could find in the crowd.

Once he was out into the square, he immediately located the flowerbed with the red astilbes and directed his eyes to the left, hoping to see her sitting on the edge with her notebook.

But she wasn't there this time either.

His heart sank. He'd come here thrice and each time had been a failure. Turning back to the station, he sighed. It was just like when he tried joining the junior high baseball team. Three swings he was allowed. And three strikes he had achieved. He could faintly hear the voice of his would be baseball coach yelling 'You're out!'

Heh, you're right this time as well coach. Man, maybe I'm really wasting my time and the universe is telling me she really isn't that special.

Accepting that it was just better to forget about her, he boarded the next train home.

The remainder of the summer break went by, the heat beginning to give way to the cool of autumn. Between his daily banter with Yukari, the almost nightly visits to Tartarus – courtesy of Akihiko who insisted they better train up for the next full moon, and the climax of Mitsuru's summer schooling sessions (she had managed to persuade everyone to attend) which resulted in providing a glimmer of hope for his plans after high school, the memory of the red haired girl in the white Gothic dress was the furthest thing in his mind. He never really forgot her though and every time he passed through Port Island Station, he glanced at the flowerbed, always hoping she would be there, but knowing deep down that he couldn't expect to see her.

Just a week and a half before the summer break ended however, he did.

Leaving the cinema after a full day marathon of heroic films, he looked towards the flowerbed and there she was, sitting on the edge, drawing. He couldn't believe it. She was there. He didn't know whether it was a mark of fate or coincidence, but accepting it as both, he took a deep breath and approached her.

"You again?" she asked, this time looking up from her work with eyes the color of the amber sky.

"U-Uh…I'm surprised you remember me" he said.

"Same here."

She turned her attention back to what he now saw was a sketchbook and continued to draw.

"So uh, what are you drawing?" he asked after introducing himself. He contemplated the idea of sitting beside her but it was probably a bad idea given how reserved she was.

"Nothing in particular. Why are you asking?"

"Well I was just thinking that um, it must be nice to have something you really enjoy."

"It's not that big of a deal. I just draw whatever I see in my head and only do it because I like to."

"Oh. Still, I'd like to see it sometime."

She closed her notebook and in doing so, he noticed her right hand was painted red.

"H-Hey wait a minute! You're bleeding!" he said.

She continued to ignore him, stood up and prepared to leave. Not wanting to let her go without at least tending to her injury, he seized her right arm.

"What's wrong with you? Can't you mind your own business?" she said, twirling to glare at him. Her voice was soft and hollow but it had an edge that could cut ice.

"Not when I see someone who's hurt," he replied. "C'mon, let me help you."

The girl scoffed. "Why are you in such a panic?"

"Are you kiddin' me? Anyone would be panicking over this."

"Hmph, you're weird," she said and pulling her hand out from his grip, she turned and started to leave again. Before she did though, she gave him a sidelong glance. "By the way, I'm almost done with the picture. I doubt you'll understand what I'm drawing but since you're so interested, you know where to find me."

Without another word, she walked away. He watched her go, satisfied that he had finally managed to speak with her. Even if it had lasted less than a few minutes, it was enough since there would be a next time. He couldn't wait and as he headed back to the dorm, he realized he never got her name. He cursed under his breath, slightly annoyed that he had forgotten to ask such a simple question, but then remembered she didn't bother to provide one. He cast the thought aside. He would find out later. For now, she would be known as the girl in the white dress.

The white bird.