Disclaimer:

I do not own the story and the concepts represented in the fiction written. This fiction and all Persona related fictions belong to Atlus, the fantastic company that created the games.

Warning!

This chapter will feature mature themes and depictions of abuse. Please take caution if such themes bother you.

Author's Note:

Thank you to everyone who Favorited and Followed my story and made a comment. The feedback is fantastic and helps me know where I can improve and make the story better. Please note the warning above as this chapter features darker themes than usual. Also, I apologize for the update. I recently moved and started my new job, so most of my time is nowadays. Furthermore, I'm working simultaneously on two other fanfiction stories. A legend of Zelda as well as a Fire Emblem: Three Houses story. These new stories, however, will not interfere with my work with this story. I am too invested!

Comments to Reviews:

lightning-187: I adore Haru/Akira as a couple. While Akira can work well with most of the cast, Haru tugs on your heartstrings with how cute she can be. Also, she's got crazy enough to make her exciting - the ax!

Cloud Narukami: Hey, I got to say, I love the name. Chad Narukami is my favorite Persona Protag of all time! Also, I can't spoil anything, but I will say you'll never see it coming!

Faneto Knight: Hey, thank you for the review. The idea to modify Akira's personality here and there through his persona's usage was my little brother's idea, and personally, I love it. Also, I see you are a man of taste. I am not going to lie. Having such a wholesome girl like Haru in my life would have me smiling every day!

Before

7/ 18

Donning some casual clothes – a white button-up shirt over a black short-sleeved t-shirt, blue jeans, and brown shoes – Akira sits down to read Mishima's text message.

"It's just one thing after another," Akira mummers, rubbing his forehead.

"What's wrong?" Morgana asks from his spot on the bed.

Akira puts the phone down. "Here, read it yourself."

It takes Morgana a few seconds to read the lines of conversation between both males. When he is done, he mummers, "I-Is this serious?"

"Apparently."

"But how? I mean, why start a war with the Phantom Thieves?"

Akira shrugs. "We're getting too popular. Besides, Mishima still hasn't confirmed anything. It can be smoke for all we know."

"Still," Morgana mutters, staring critically at the device, "we can't let our guard down."

"I know, I know. But, just for today, let's put those thoughts under the bed." Akira holds up his brown bag. "Come now, fair maiden, you're bag awaits."

"Shut it, you," replies the cat. Still, Morgana makes a clean jump into the bag and moves around a little to get comfortable.

Akira pockets his phone but not before staring at Mishima's warning one more time.

"The guy is too obsessed with the Phantom Thieves," he concludes.

"Akira," Morgana says in a chastising tone. "Be nice. His Phansite is how we find low-level targets in Mementos."

"I know, I know… it's just I want a normal, boring day for once without being reminded of what we typically do."

Poking his head out of Akira's bag, Morgana nods. "I agree, so less talking and more heading over to where everyone's meeting. Lady Ann awaits!"

Rolling his eyes, Akira walks downstairs. He exchanges pleasantries with Sojiro before departing and making his way to the train station. The train is densely populated with people dressed for the festival. Pressed against the exit doors, Akira holds his brown bag carrying Morgana protectively in his arms.

"Argh, why is it so hot and humid?" Morgana huffs.

Overhead, the train monitors beep, and a robotic voice announces the next stop and the fireworks festival. Akira restrains a sigh, suppressing the anticipation of meeting his friends.

"Aw, it's too hot in here," the cat whines. "And there are too many people!"

"Let's switch then," Akira says into the bag. "You stand pressed against a door while I'm still in a cozy bag."

Not a single complaint leaves Morgana's mouth for the rest of the ride.

The sun begins to dip slightly beyond the horizon and numerous skyscrapers by the time Akira exits the train and meets Yusuke and Ryuji at the predetermined location. Ryuji dresses casually, too, with a yellow tank top that reads 'ON UR MARK!' with red shoe prints, khaki shorts, and blue sneakers. On the other hand, Yusuke dresses more for the occasion, wearing an aquamarine yukata styled with light rose petals, a gold sash around his waist, and wooden sandals.

The trio – plus cat – stand close to a wall, adjacent to several ticketing machines. Ryuji and Morgana complain about the heat.

"It's too hot to be waitin' around," Ryuji says. "What's takin' them so long!"

"Lady Ann, please hurry, "Morgana pleads. "I'm beginning to pant."

Akira and Yusuke ignore both their friends' antics, taking turns to cool themselves with the fan Yusuke carries. Occasionally, though, Akira waves the fan in Morgana's face, eliciting a pleased sigh from the cat.

"Hm, perhaps they are still putting on their yukatas," Yusuke suddenly voices. He sends an appraising look at Akira and Ryuji. "On the topic, why aren't either of you wearing a yukata?"

"I don't own anything fancy like a yukata," Ryuji points out. "Though, you look pretty natural in one, y'know."

"People often tell me that," Yusuke comments.

"I bet," Ryuji snickers. "How about you, Akira? Got any fancy clothes?"

Akira shrugs. "A few at home, but nothing I brought from Tokyo with me."

Ryuji hums in reply. He taps his feet impatiently as movement and chatter from people all around them fills their silence. But, even with the constant noise, Ryuji is never one for group silence.

"So, hey, how do you feel about the exams?"

"Aced them," Akira says. "Probably."

"Wha!?" Ryuji cries. "H-how are you so sure?"

"Because he actually studies," says Morgana, "Heh, you probably got nothing but F."

"What!"

Like clockwork, the two begin to bicker. Akira usually finds the exchange comical, but something else warrants his attention. Like the two girls dressed in yukatas that approach Yusuke.

This…might be interesting, he thinks.

Morgana and Ryuji fall silent to watch the exchange.

"Hey," says the girl wearing a bright pink yukata. "Are you going to the fireworks festival?"

"If you are," says the other girl in a dark-purple yukata, "want to go together? Your friends can come, too."

Ryuji nudges Akira. "Dude, are they hitting on us?"

"Hm, not us," says Akira, smirking at Yusuke.

He observes the interaction with interest. After all, Yusuke being Yusuke, who knows where the conversation will lead. Surprisingly, however, the rather talkative artist is quiet as the girls continue to gush over his features.

The girl in the bright-pink yukata, the bolder of the two, takes a step closer to Yusuke. "You have smooth skin."

"Yeah," agrees the other girl. "Are you a model or something?"

Ryuji nudges Akira again. "Dude, are you seeing this?"

"I'm standing right here."

"Why don't we just go with these girls?" Ryuji says.

Despite knowing how terrible the suggestion, hell knows no fury like an Ann and Makoto scorn, Akira considers Ryuji's idea.

Next to him, the blond youth vibrates in anticipation. "It's your call, man!"

Akira plans on saying no until Yusuke opens his mouth.

"That's enough."

The group looks at Yusuke. Even Morgana pokes his head out of Akira's bag to peer at the stoic artist.

"The manner you conduct yourself in is disgraceful towards your womanhood and the yukatas you wear."

Akira and Morgana's eyes widen. Ryuji takes it a step further, his face and shoulders sagging in disbelief. Seconds pass after Yusuke's comment. The girl in purple glances at her friend, sending a silent message with her eyes. Without a word, they both turn around and walk away.

"D-d-dude! What the hell?" Ryuji bellows at the artist.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Ryuji bellows. What's wrong!?"

"…Yes?" Yusukeuke replies. "I asked you."

"What was with that with those girls?"

"Oh! Yes, well, their improper posture, demeanor, and attitude were ruining their feminine charms. Hopefully, now they will conduct themselves more appropriately."

"What is wrong with you!?" Ryuji turns to Akira. "Please tell me I'm now the only one freaked out about this?"

"Honestly," Akira begins, slowly, "I'm kind of impressed."

To emphasize his point, Akira claps for Yusuke. The artist bows his head appreciatively. Meanwhile, Ryuji's face reaches new levels of redness.

"Am I the only –"

"Can you keep it down!?"

The group turns to Ann, wearing a light-blue yukata with a vibrant red sash around her waist. Her annoyance is evident in her expression and posture. "Goodness, if it bothers you so much, why don't you go after them? Anything but start yelling like a crazy person!"

"Ann, you're the one yelling now and appearing, um, crazy," says Makoto, appearing alongside Ann. Contrary to the exasperated blond, Makoto sports a white yukata with illustrations of red four-leaf clovers.

It suits her, Akira thinks, in a quirky kind of way.

Ann sighs. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry about that."

"It's no bother," says Makoto. "However, I find it interesting that those were the kind of girl's Ryuji likes?"

"Well, I, ah, kind – no!" Ryuji fails to form a coherent response under the girls' scrutiny.

"Still, though," Ann says to Makoto, "What Yusuke said to them was pretty harsh."

"Really? I think his honesty is part of his charm."

Yusuke is one for one, Akira thinks in amusement.

"What do you think of those girls, leader?" Ann asks, a playful glint in her eyes. Makoto seems similarly interested in his response.

Looking at Ann and Makoto, Akira opens his mouth and says, "We shall never know."

Ann laughs. "You're so dramatic all time!"

Makoto nods. "Not to mention hard to read."

Noting their amusement, Morgana takes the opportunity to leap out of the brown bag and climb onto Akira's shoulder.

"Hey, you know who can't read well…" Morgana sends what Akira imagines is a devious smirk at Ryuji.

Ryuji's eyes go wide. "Mona, don't you freakin' –"

"I hear Ryuji didn't study at all for his exams and got nothing but Fs!"

"You little –"

"Oh."

Ryuji stills. That one comment from Makoto is enough to paralysis him. Slowly, Ryuji turns toward the upperclassmen, glaring at him.

"Hey," Ann interjects. "We can worry about Ryuji grades later. It's going to get crowded if we don't get going."

Following Ann's lead, the group exits the train station onto the streets. Outside, Shibuya Station Square is densely populated, with hundreds of excited residents packed together to see the fireworks.

"It's starting!" Ann points out.

She moves as close as she can without bumping into anyone. Even then, she hops in place to get a better view of the fireworks that hide behind the tall buildings.

"Ah, I barely see anything," she complains.

She persists nonetheless for a few moments until a surprised yelp from Morgana gathers the groups' attention.

"What was –!" Morgana flinches again when another droplet of water hits his face.

"No way," Ann mummers in disbelief. "Is it raining!?"

What begins with a few drops quickly evolves into a downpour.

"Why now?" Makoto says dejectedly.

The crowded streets start to thin as people rush to find protection from the rain. Law enforcement personnel direct traffic flow as a crowd races toward the station, so the group finds shelter underneath the convenience store's overhang at Shibuya Station.

Everyone attempts to dry themselves. Akira palms his right ear a few times to dislodge some water he feels inside. In his wet bag, Morgana shakes his head. Ryuji wrings the edge of his yellow tank top, while Makoto dabs a dry napkin against her damp hair. Meanwhile, Ann twists the lower portion of her yukata, unknowingly revealing her upper thigh.

Smiling, Makoto taps Ann to get her attention then points to the three males trying very hard to look casual.

"Need any help there?" offers Ryuji without looking Ann in her eyes.

Ann grabs Ryuji by the helm of his shirt and shakes him. "If you noticed something, then go do something like getting me a towel."

Everyone else laughs at the blondes' antics.

As they enter the convenience store, Akira sees a familiar figure through the reflection of the mirror. He watches the person go inside the back seat of a black limousine with tinted windows and drive away.

Baffled, Akira continued to stare at the limo spot moments ago, wondering if it was indeed Haru he saw until Morgana urges him to enter the store. Akira blinks back to reality. He trails behind his friends and tries to ignore the unease gnawing at his chest.

X

Despite how spacious the limousine inside is, Haru feels suffocated, pressing close against the door for comfort. Even her lofty pink yukata feels tight around her body, making it uncomfortable to breathe. On the other side of the limousine, Haru's oh so incredible fiancé has an engaging conversation via cellphone.

Haru is thankful that his attention is elsewhere and away from her.

The drive is quiet as she mentally mutes Sugimura and thinks about her time at the festival. While it was hard to enjoy herself, given the company, the fireworks made her happy. Though, she imagines that being with someone else – a raven-haired youth comes to mind – would have made the occasion even more enjoyable.

Haru smiles at the thought. Then, her expression stills, feeling an intense gaze aimed in her direction. Hesitantly, she sneaks a glance at Sigmura, sitting at the opposite end of the limo.

"Yeah, yeah, let me call you back," he says, never taking his eyes off Haru.

Ending the call, he begins to scoot closer to her. "You haven't smiled the entire time we were together. I was starting to think it was a waste of time to take you out. You look beautiful, though, when you don't look so miserable."

"I – w-well." Haru feels her words fail her.

The closer he advances, the more she tries to press against the door and keep her trembling under control. Sugimura is an arms-length away when he finally stops his advance. One of his hands holds the headrest of the seat in front of them. The other is close to her thigh and supports his weight.

"I like that smile you just had. You never smile for me." Sugimura's grin expresses his amusement and intrigue.

Haru doesn't respond. She can't string together words when their current positioning makes her feel like a concerned animal. The seconds build, and Suigmura's eerie attention shifts to annoyance.

"What's wrong with you?" Sugimura says. "I am your fiancé; say something!"

Haru shallows and tries to organize her thoughts as best she can while this man's limbs surround her like teeth ready to shut. When she doesn't respond fast enough, the annoyance on Suigmura's face shifts again to mild irritation.

"I bring you here out of the goodness of my heart while delaying meaningful work, and this is how you show your appreciation!?"

Haru's mind immediately produces an apology, some submissive response to quell his discontent. But, some other part of her – a piece she isn't familiar with – speaks for her instead. "There are hundreds of things I would have rather done than go with you to the festival."

Haru makes a mistake. She knows this immediately when Suigmura's initial response is astonishment. Then, he moves. It happens too fast for her to comprehend. His hands, practically hovering over her, close around her shoulders.

She sees the smug annoyance on his face and – without conscious thought – delivers a swift knee to his midsection as Makoto taught her. Suigumura is pushed back from the blow and cradles his chest, while Haru hugs her aching shoulders.

When Haru dares a glance in his direction, she feels her insides freeze at the absolute hatred in his eyes. Faster than she can react, Sugimura lunges, seizing her jaw in his hands tightly. "LISTEN HERE, YOU STUPID LITTLE BITCH!"

Whatever rebellious spirit Haru felt earlier is snuffed out by the primal fear screaming at her to remain still. The adrenaline coursing through her veins numbs her senses, making Suigmura's vice-like grip on her face momentarily nonexistent.

Her inaction appeases Suigmura enough to rein in some of his anger. "You are nothing," he says harshly. "Your father offered you to my father for me! That means you belong to me! Once we get married, your wealth, possessions, and body are mine to do as I wish…Do you understand?"

Haru doesn't respond, so he grips her jaw tighter and pulls up and down. "Good girl."

After a few seconds, he moves away, satisfied. His hungry gaze lingers at Haru, though, as he appraises her figure. "More trouble than you're worth, but damn waiting for that body until after the marriage." Almost to himself, he adds, "I can't wait to pop your high school cherry."

The rest of the car ride is silent except for a conversation Suigmura has with someone over the phone. Haru doesn't dare attract attention to herself. The world around her is white and fuzzy, and she ignores everything from the stinging from her face and shoulders to the car stopping and dropping Suigmura off whenever he says before departing doesn't register either.

Upon arriving at her home, Haru goes through the familiar motions of navigating through the large, empty house and going to her room. She stands momentarily frozen by the door until everything that occurred comes crashing to the forefront of her mind. She falls to her knees, covers her mouth, and silently cries. She feels the overpowering urge to pull at her hair, punch something, and destroy everything within her immediate vicinity.

This state of delirium continues until she is empty and hollow.

Only Haru's conflicting thoughts remain. Her desire to hide and bury her frustrations as always and something else entirely, too. The second desire is foreign. It is a painful, burning ache in her chest that demands her attention.

She takes a moment to acknowledge it, to delve deeper into these strange sensations. Haru realizes that she wants to hurt Sugimura. More than that, she wants to hurt her father for the entire arrangement.

But how she wonders?

The answer arrives at her beckoning, and with it, the bedroom appears engulfed by intense darkness.

Haru turns sharply, feeling goosebumps rise behind her neck. "I-Is anyone there?"

She hesitantly scans the bedroom, walking closer to the center, then stops when lightening outside peeks through the curtains. The light is so intense, it reflects off the mirror on her vanity.

Haru shuts her eyes. When she opens them, she is compelled to see her reflection.

She winces.

Her eyes are puffy from unshed tears. Her hair is matted to her skull from the rain but with random curls sticking out. Squinting, she can see bruising from where Suigmura gripped her face. She doesn't have to check her shoulders to know they are equally red.

Again, the urge to collapse emotionally engulfs her. As she stares at her reflection in the eye, she feels it coming, bubbling to the surface. Then, as if wiped clean, the fear, sadness, despair, rage, and humiliation disappear. A plug is pulled from somewhere in Haru's mind, and everything suddenly clicks into place.

She doesn't want to give Suigmura or her father the satisfaction of her tears. No, she rationalizes, she intends to hurt them, undermine them. But how she wonders again. Then, she recalls something Suigmura said, almost as a whisper to himself: I can't wait to pop your high school cherry.

A shadow rises from behind Haru. Haru continues to stare at her reflection, oblivious of the shadow and the faint-yellow glow beginning to pool at the center of her eyes. As the shadow slowly cascades over her shoulders like a cape belonging to a heroine, an idea forms in the young woman's mind.

I don't have control of many things in my life, Haru realizes miserably. And my future is even bleaker. But, this…this is something I cannot willfully surrender to anyone but whom I choose.

With that realization, Haru retrieves the maroon gym bag she usually reserves for going to the gym with Makoto. She goes around the room, collecting various clothing articles and a recyclable plastic bag from the many she keeps for the trash bin by her vanity. Then, she steels herself and opens her nightstand. Haru reaches her hand deep inside, to the very back of the cabinet and pulls out a small square box with a code lock.

The code is her birthday, something her father or anyone but Akio-san would care to consider.

Inside are many thin metallic wrappers with a circle protruding from both sides. Haru gulps. The front of the wrapper presents the label: ultra-thin condoms.

Haru gulps and stools a handful of the wrappers into her gym bag. Before she departs, she uses the home phone to contact the driver, who initially took her to the festival and dropped her off. In her daze, she had left her wallet containing her cellphone, identification, and money in the driver's vehicle.

Hopefully, it is still there, she thinks.

Haru's hopes become a reality when the same driver pulls up to the driveway and holds out a wallet and an umbrella as he approaches.

"Mistress," he says, voice deep and detached, and Haru resists the urge to flinch at the title.

Eiichi Sato is a tall man with smooth hair and black sunglasses that match his black suit and shoes.

"I'm going to visit a friend's house. Take me to Yongen-Jaya."

He is stoic, something that unnerved Haru, but today she is thankful he doesn't question her. He gives Haru her wallet and begins to escort her to the back seat of the limousine. Haru stops, however, and a little bit of water catches the back of her neck. If possible, the rain is more severe than before, and Eiichi quickly covers her with an umbrella.

"I would like to sit in the passenger seat instead," Haru says, keeping her expression nonchalant even though her hands shake at what transpired earlier.

"Understood."

The car ride to Yongen-Jaya fills Haru with so many emotions that she is ready to pop. It is only now, with her idea coming into fruition, that she realizes the significance of her decision. After all, her plan depends entirely on Akira.

Maybe…I should message Akira, Haru thinks.