Author's Notes: Hello again, one and all! Here is another update from yours truly, fanfic writer extraordinaire! The much-awaited Yakushima chapter is now yours for the reading, and I'm very confident that you will enjoy it to the fullest.
And of course I would be remiss to start off a chapter and not thank all my wonderful readers for slogging through the monster that was the last chapter. It was worth writing, certainly, but damn was it a lot of work. Still, enough of my grousing. Thank you, one and all, for reading it, faving and/or alerting it and validating my existence as a human being.
A special thank-you, as always, to those who left reviews. Because you were so kind as to leave comments, I will return the favour and leave replies, in no particular order:
Zeyro – Glad you're enjoying the story. Questions and mysteries do tend to make things interesting, so I'll make sure to keep that up as the story progresses. Is Minato in danger from his powers? I won't give any hints or spoil the surprise, but I will say that it is a matter that Enact and I have thought about and considered. Thanks for the review, and hope you enjoy the chapter.
Guest – Of course I'm going to continue it. I'm having way too much fun to just drop this now.
Xoraan – Takaya and Strega will have some real teeth in this story. Exactly how much, I won't say, but if you think he's dangerous now, then I'm glad, because we're going to be seeing more of him in the future and I wouldn't want him to feel ineffective. I'm also glad that the battle scenes came across well – I find the line between descriptive and excessive to be something other authors cross pretty regularly, so I want to be sure that mine aren't too thin, but also not bloated. So thank you for the praise – always great to hear from you.
Tracer 28 – Minato being human is pretty important since we're following him around this much, and if you want Mitsuru to have a PoV section, well, you won't be disappointed with this chapter.
Guest – Much as it would have made for an awesome Christmas present, I figured that you guys deserved to have an early gift from me. Hope you don't mind.
Erebus 13 – Aigis will be in this chapter. She has a pretty big role to play in the story and Minato's development through it, so being without her was never in the cards. Hope you like the chapter!
Lvl-ZeR0 – Glad to hear the smaller details I put in there got across, especially with so much stuff going on in the last chapter. As to the theories on Minato's Personas, I'm afraid that I can't confirm or deny anything right now, since that would kill the surprise. I have taken those ideas into consideration, however, so the answers might be in a future chapter. And if you liked Minato and Mitsuru before, I think you'll like them more in this chapter. Enjoy!
writinginreverse – Much obliged! Faves are nice, certainly, but I'll take reviews, good, bad or neutral any day of the week.
Bboy46 – For all Minato's aplomb in most situations, he does have a temper when he gets to that point, so it was rather appropriate. Yep, Aigis is in this chapter, with a few changes to some scenes, which should make things interesting. And as to the sensation that Minato felt, I can't confirm or deny what it was or wasn't. But it will play a part later on down the story. Thanks for reviewing!
maelstrom 969 – Only a few of them, actually. If all of them were whispering at the same time, I'd probably go crazy or break my fingers on my keyboard trying to get all the ideas down. Many thanks for the compliments, and hope you like this chapter.
Bru022345 – I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but Enact, my editor, would kill me if I ditched my stories now, and we have loads of ideas to go through first, so there's no worries of me quitting them. I might take a while to get them out, but I will keep at them until they're finished. Glad you're enjoying it so far!
Guest – Your waiting has been rewarded, because here's the chapter. Hope you like it!
Meia42 – Enact and I have a lot of ideas for Strega, and part of our goal here is to make sure they get the most bang for their buck, so you can expect them to be regular guests in the chapters to come. As for the characters, thanks for the compliments, and it's always nice to know that the finer details are appreciated and are being picked up. If that's the case, then you'll have a lot to enjoy with this chapter, so go forth and enjoy!
kungfootitan – Ahhh, you're making me blush! Glad to see that my efforts haven't been in vain. I didn't think that they were, but it is a nice reassurance when I get such lovely, detailed reviews. Especially now, since I have the groundwork laid and most of the major players set up, so now I can focus on really having some fun with things. Fun in what way? Well, you'll have to read and find out. Thanks again for the review, and welcome to the story!
Delacroix1991 – Well, first and foremost, I hope you didn't hurt yourself there – losing a reviewer would be a tragedy for me. Second, much obliged for the review. I've learned a lot about writing romances in with character development since starting the fics, so I'm glad it's paying off. Of course, there's a lot of romance yet in the plans, in this fic and in Continuance, so if that's your cup of tea, then you won't be disappointed. Along with, you know, a lot more awesomeness with Minato and Mitsuru and Aigis and the rest of the crew. Including Strega.
I recently got a full-time job with regular breaks, so I'm hoping to have my chapters done sooner from here on out. I make no promises, but that is what I am aiming for. Also, my profile picture has changed, for those who haven't seen it yet. It's a commission from a friend of mine, a guy who does a lot of stuff on DeviantArt under the handle VertiEarth Creations. If you like my new logo, and I certainly do because it's awesome, check out his stuff when you get the chance.
Cyber-cookies to Bboy46 for the correct answer. The titles of Change of Engagement are fencing terms. Attacks, stances, motions and movements, etc. Now, did anyone catch the Great Teacher Onizuka reference in the last chapter?
Without further ado, let's get to the story and Yakushima and girls in swimsuits, shall we?
Chapter 5 – Supination
One, two, three, four, five, six. Turn.
One, two, three, four, five, six. Turn.
Minato sighed again, and he'd since lost count of how many of those he'd given, before turning an annoyed stare at the phantasmal door of the Velvet Room at the mall. He had no problem taking Elizabeth out to see the world, and he'd told her as much. But he took exception to waiting for close to an hour for her to 'assemble more fitting attire.' How long did a girl need to get ready for a trip to the mall?
"Thank you for your patience," he heard, finally, from the door.
When he turned to address her, his feet stopped in place and his eyes widened. From her uniform and hat and boots to…
"Do I meet your expectations? This will suffice as camouflage in your world, will it not?" Elizabeth asked, spreading her arms so he could judge.
Denim. Leather. And lots of both. Her blue boots were replaced with a fashionable pair of women's boots with sensible heels, above which were black stockings despite being the end of July. Denim skirt, a pale yellow tank top and denim vest under a tailored lady's leather jacket. And her hat was gone entirely. Instead his eyes were drawn to a slender pair of half-rim glasses perched perfectly on her nose.
"Glasses," he said finally. "I didn't know you needed them, but I guess if you're always reading that book in the dark like that, it makes sense."
She chuckled, holding a hand to her lips. "No, no, I don't need them. My eyes are perfect."
He tilted his head to the side. "Then why wear them?"
"I've never had the opportunity, so I wanted to experience them," was her reply, enthusiasm unmistakable in her voice. "And proper camouflage allows for no flaws or weaknesses."
Minato scratched the side of his cheek, trying to see how dressing like a rich American tourist was considered camouflage, but gave up after a moment. "Well, the look suits you. You shouldn't stand out as much this way."
She smiled, lighting up her pale eyes. "I am grateful for your kind assessment. The first step in our afternoon has been a resounding success. Onto the next, yes?"
"Right. But I wanted to ask you something before we get too carried away. Something about the Shadows."
"Of course, of course. But, onward – there are challenges to be met and trials to overcome."
He was about to tell her that his world was only dangerous during the Dark Hour, but she swept past him and into the light of Paulownia Mall. And if he was hoping for a measure of discretion or privacy, such wishes were dashed immediately when he met the eyes of a gaggle of the school's most garrulous chatterboxes coming out of the jewelry store. Elizabeth had stopped next to him, looking at the expansive space like a food connoisseur at the buffet table, entirely without personal reservation. Minato turned from his classmates without a greeting or a word, hoping that a cold shoulder would deter them from inquiring about the woman whose 'camouflage' made her stand out against the crowds of salarymen and students and shopkeepers. The moment she spoke, that optimism suffered a swift and sudden demise.
"Arisato-sama, where should we start?" she asked, looking at the café with undisguised curiousity.
Sama? Minato put a finger to his forehead, trying to pretend that his classmates weren't humming like a waking bee hive. "Well, we can go wherever you like," he replied as calmly as he could, stepping up to her side and trying for a respectful distance. "I forgot to ask, Elizabeth, where did you get those clothes? They're pretty different from what you're usually in." There. A nice, harmless question. No way someone could misinterpret that.
"You bought them," she informed him, utterly ignorant to the girls nearby. "Rather, the fees for my services did. I hope you find them pleasing – if my wearing something else would arouse your interest more, please tell me at once."
He bit back a sigh and cringed when he heard the students fall utterly silent behind him. "I… I see," he replied a bit weakly. "Well, those suit you fine. But, which shops did you want to visit first?"
None of them, it seemed. Instead she was quite taken with the fountains. He wouldn't have phrased it as 'making sport of water,' but the phrase did suit her. And it was hard to get into trouble with fountains, after all. No room for spectacle or misunderstandings.
Until the words 'I shall make an opening bid to the fountain spirit of one million yen' cut all nearby conversation off like a mute button, and she produced a coin purse that probably… couldn't…
As the coins tumbled down and hit the water like rain, Minato stared and resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. He'd thought she was kidding. He really did. There was no way she could have that amount of money – Igor didn't charge for fusing Personas, and Minato hadn't spent anywhere near that much for Elizabeth's services. Luckily, her excessive donation was interrupted when she stopped to consider her wish, and he got a word in edgewise. "About that question I had – it's regarding the things my friends and I have been running into on the nights when the moon is full." He spoke quietly, hoping desperately that she would be subtle about his nocturnal activities as he took her elbow and led her away from the fountain, not wanting to consider the implications of drowning-by-money-donation and how that would sound to the cops.
Elizabeth's eyes lit up behind her glasses. "Ahh, of course. What manner of information did you require?"
Finally, he had her attention. "Specifics would be nice. I ran into something that I'd like some insight on."
"And I am uniquely suited to provide such insight," she finished for him. "Of course. But, what is that building over there?" And off she went again.
Minato took a bracing breath and turned to catch a pair of students, maybe in his grade, staring after her. Only there was no way they could see her back with their eyes that low. He felt his temper flash and gave a sharp 'Psst!' and a jerk of his head with hard eyes, telling them to get lost. One of them narrowed his eyes and squared his shoulders, but the other grabbed his friend and pulled back. "Don't! That's Arisato!" he whispered harshly. "He took on the whole kendo team at once and won, and if that's his woman, then don't go near her." And before Minato could correct them, they'd skittered away to the backdrop of people pawing at the fountain's surface and pushing each other out of the way.
"Arisato-sama!" Elizabeth called from the police station. "I have an inquiry."
"Of course," he replied, striding over and noting the girls from before edging closer, despite his cold looks. As he walked up, he appreciated that the denim skirt she'd chosen suited her figure quite well, and made a mental note to ask her to wear something inconspicuous next time. "I need to know about the nature of those things, Elizabeth," he told her quietly as she looked at the wanted posters. "The second one in the hotel, in particular, and how it could do what it did to us."
She curbed her enthusiasm enough to reply. "Are you familiar with the Major Arcana? They are central to your tarot cards, I believe."
He nodded, stepping closer so they wouldn't be overheard. "I've heard of them. The cards represent the path one can take in life and different aspects of people and their personalities."
"That is correct. Simply put, the creature you fought before was aligned with the Lovers Arcana. Its nature was to read and manipulate emotions with what those around it felt. Particularly deep secrets and feelings."
Minato braced himself, feeling nauseous from the memory of the thing but wanting answers more. "It showed me some… visions, I guess you could call them, or illusions. About someone on my team. I'm not sure if what it was showing me was true or not, but if it represented the Lovers, then does that mean what I saw was accurate?"
She gave a thoughtful frown, tapping her cheek for a moment. "Not precisely, no. On the occasion that the Lovers card is upright, it represents persons in balance. If it is reversed, the balance is lost to careless gratification and the absence of understanding. It leaves no room for the emotional facets of the relationship. If the visions were focused on the superficial traits of your partner, then it is likely that the Shadow was showing you what it could: the base feelings, lusts and desires, but not emotions. It would not comprehend those."
Minato frowned thoughtfully . That made sense; the visions had been focused on what Mitsuru-senpai liked about him as a male, as an asset, but there was no mention of any deeper feelings.
"Ahh, is that, by chance, what you call a 'club'? I wish to partake in it!" She strode off again, and this time he kept close to her so she wouldn't have to speak quite so loudly. "You should know, Arisato-sama," she began, blind to the injured look he gave at the appellation, "on the next occasion that you require my services, they will be at a most reasonable discount. It is the least I can do for today."
"Of course," he replied, trying not to care about the gaggle of gossips that talked among themselves even more at her words.
"Discount?!" one of them hoarsely whispered. "What sorts of services is she offering him?"
"Do you think Senpai knows about her?" another asked. "What about Takeba-san?"
Minato focused on his guest, determined to let the pieces fall where they would. They were leaving for Yakushima soon, and rumours weren't likely to survive exams and the summer. And he was busily turning an old question over in his mind, trying to apply what he'd learned and getting only curiousity and frustration in return. If the Shadow's visions were lies and conveniences used to deceive him, then he was no further ahead than before. Still, he wondered: what did Kirijo Mitsuru think of Arisato Minato?
"Adequate." Not perfect, but quite adequate given what she expected.
Mitsuru finished unpacking her bags and opening the windows, letting the scent of the sea into the room she'd taken as hers since she was six years old. Waves, a clear blue sky, and the gleam of sand like a fortune in gold, it all wrapped around her like a robe as familiar as the beautiful rugs and supple bed in her room. Even without her mother, this place was as close to home as she'd ever known. The Kirijo Mansion in Tokyo was larger and where all her father's business acquaintances met, but it was purely for that reason that the large, luxurious manor felt like a reception hall or work office instead of a place where a family met and ate and actually lived. Her fondest memories were of playing in the waves with her mother and collecting seashells, after all, and not of business dinners.
"Speaking of which," she murmured to herself, drawing the curtains on her windows shut and ensuring that the door was locked before stepping in front of her full-length mirror and smoothly, deliberately, undressing. First her shoes, which she set by the base of the mirror, then her top and her capris. She breathed and stared at her almost-nude reflection before lowering her gaze and taking in her reflection. Firm shoulders, flat stomach, and she had nothing to complain about with her waist and hips and legs, even when she turned side-face and tried different poses. Despite how the other girls at school complained about their bodies and mourned the need for diets, she was perfectly happy with the shape of her bottom half – strong legs and hips were needed for good trusts and ripostes. Her hands were tougher than during her last visit, and her arms had the muscle tone that she wanted. Excellent for using a sword.
Mitsuru chuckled as she met her own stare. Takeba and others at school had called her a proud person, possibly even vain. But as she looked in the mirror, she could admit that such statements had some merit – she was indeed proud of being in shape like she was. Because what she saw was proof that she hadn't come any closer to being like Ayasegawa Hikari.
Ayasegawa was the fourth daughter of one of her father's business associates, and the two had met when Mitsuru was eleven. Unlike Mitsuru, who had been raised on a healthy diet of education and nutritious foods and exercise, Ayasegawa had taken to her parents' lower expectations and heightened doting with gusto, especially when it involved the dessert tray. Not yet obese when they had met, Ayasegawa took an almost childlike joy in sampling every dish and snack and roll she could. Several times over. By itself that wasn't enough to offend Mitsuru, nor was Ayasegawa's nasal voice or condescending attitude toward the servants or the way her clothes seemed tailor-made for her considerable size and yet still didn't fit right. All these things Mitsuru could forgive or ignore. But the turning point had been when her father had sent them to the third floor for a presentation and she had to endure Ayasegawa huffing and puffing and groaning like a bovine with gastric dilation volvulus directly behind her. Step after step after step, for all 39 stairs, including one landing. And when they arrived, Mitsuru turned around, about to offer a handkerchief to the poor creature. That was when she was confronted with a round, puffy face splotched with red and crimson and more sweat than she'd seen on professional runners. She said nothing. She did nothing, except back away so the girl's attendants could tend to her.
The image haunted her for the rest of the night, and she dove into research on the best ways to keep fit the next day, begging her parents to find her a proper trainer so she could get and stay in shape. If her reflection was any indication, she noted with a smile, her instructors would be proud.
She fished her bathing suit, sent by her family's stylists, from her bag and was about to strip naked when she saw herself in the mirror again, and the angle reminded her of something. Setting her two-piece on the nearby chair, she locked her eyes on her breasts and breathed deep, turning her torso as she did. The resulting tug and slight pinch made her grimace. She'd thought that she was done growing, but it seemed that she would need to be fitted for her tops and bras again – what she had would cut into her chest and leave marks on her shoulders if she left it alone, and she'd finally found a dressmaker who sized her just right.
Making a mental note and recalling the woman's name and address from her mind's rolodex, she removed her underwear and slipped into her two-piece swimsuit, which had been given extra room to account for her growth. With her sarong knotted and sandals donned, she picked up the phone and called the maid, telling her to bring sunscreen, before she left the room to go over the corners and edges of the hallway with detail that wouldn't have been out of place for a crime scene investigator.
Yes, the maids had done an adequate job of maintaining the Kirijo beach villa. Her room had the look of a dedicated cleaning, and the halls were presentable. Not perfect, of course, but her father rarely used the villa in its entirety, so the request to prepare for her and six guests was probably unexpected.
"Mitsuru-sama," a familiar voice called from behind. She turned to see the woman who was as much a part of the villa as the stone of the floor itself, Kato Airi. A loving smile was set in a face that still looked too young for a woman past fifty and with children and grandchildren. And she only had a few more grey hairs than Mitsuru remembered. "It's been too long, my lady," she intoned, bowing formally, with eyes full of affection.
"Airi-san, you know better," Mitsuru chided with a smile, bypassing the bow and hugging the woman warmly. The daughter of servants whose legacy was tending to her family, Airi-san had been an aide and confidante to Mitsuru's father, a friend to her mother, and as dear as family to Mitsuru herself before and after her mother died. Diligent, sharp, and loyal, she was a rock that everyone else overlooked when admiring the Kirijo family's stability and knack for organization. "It's wonderful to see you," she told her happily.
"But you look more beautiful than ever," Airi-san commented, turning the young woman this way and that so she could get a proper look. "Yes, perfect. Eimi-sama would be proud of how you've turned out."
Mitsuru smiled, feeling truly home in the woman's presence. And she was right – Mitsuru owed her hair and skin colour and most of her shape to her mother's genes. "Set some time aside tonight, Airi-san. We need to catch up." She closed her eyes as the woman's hands began spreading sunscreen across her skin, and knew what she was about to say next. "I'll make it an order if I have to," she continued knowingly.
There was a pause, the same as always, and a soft chuckle. "As you wish, Mitsuru-sama. It will be a pleasure."
Once she was properly prepared for a day on the beach, she strode through the halls and down the stairs toward her comrades. When she reached the beach, she saw that Yamagishi and Takeba were already changed and chatting with Arisato and Iori and Akihiko. When they saw her, the girls immediately rushed over to praise her swimsuit, invading her space and setting her back half a step. As she answered their questions, bewildered at the interest, she looked to the other three for help. Akihiko was in the same swimming gear as she'd always seen him in, looking at the buoys in the distance. Iori was more toned than when she'd seen him in gym class, but had the same lankiness to him that she'd noted before. And he was grinning about something, probably at Yamagishi and Takeba and their unrestrained girlishness.
Arisato, however, surprised her. She knew that he was fit from their match in the fencing ring and excursions into Tartarus, and even when they were in the hotel, he was more winded from the air of the place and using his Personas than from being out of shape. She expected him to be fit, but standing there in swimming shorts and laced sandals and wrap-around sunglasses, she could see the clear definition of his pectoral muscles and abs, and his arms had clearly corded lines, similar to Akihiko but still distinct, which led to the strong physique of his torso.
It wasn't what she expected, and the sight caught her eye, the gushings of the girls falling from her attention for a moment. Mitsuru had heard him argue, when his classmates called him skinny, that his clothes made him look slender. It sounded like an excuse, very unusual from the transfer student who took on any challenge thrown at him and overcame it with his trademark sarcastic smile. Now she could see that he hadn't been lying – he was actually quite well sculpted.
"Are you going into the water first, Mitsuru-senpai?" Yamagishi inquired, eyes almost as bright as the ocean before them.
"I usually sunbathe first," she informed her comrade, nodding toward a set of reclining beach chairs and colourful parasols. Akihiko nudged Arisato from behind, saying something she couldn't hear, and the transfer student turned and glared back, his eyebrows crouching over the rims of his sunglasses. Curious. He didn't seem the sort to glare, but Akihiko provoked the response without much effort at all. She tilted her head a bit. Nor was he the sort to blush, but his cheeks were distinctly red as he spoke quietly to Akihiko. She'd have to ask about what that was about when she got the chance.
Takeba set her own sunglasses in place and headed, with a wave to them all, toward the large beach house a short distance away, an optimal place for meals given its tiled, sloped roof and wooden base and tables and chairs. Iori followed her, looking for something to get his energy up while Arisato and Yamagishi were talking in quite tones and heading to where they'd left their day bags.
Mitsuru went over to her favourite beach chair and leaned back, warmed by the sun while Akihiko stretched in place and set off for the ocean. She let the tension drift from her, the familiar scent of brine and sunscreen and warm, golden sand carrying away her concerns. It was wonderful to be back; she promised herself she would add more such trips to her future schedules. Tatsumi Port Island was a pleasant place to live and learn, but she had too many memories of this stretch of sand to not indulge in it more. Out of habits from when her mother was still alive, she let the sun's warmth strip away her worries and set her mind adrift on the ocean tides, tuning into the sights and sounds around her.
Nearby, Yamagishi and Arisato were deep in conversation while building a surprisingly meticulous sand castle. Yamagishi was working on the details of the towers and the moat while Arisato had procured a stick and, to Mitsuru's amusement, was carefully inserting murder holes. "I've never had much reason to try it before," Yamagishi was saying, "and it's not like I need to since we have everything we need at or around the dorm, but I'd like to try cooking. I can't always rely on being near a convenience store, right?"
"Right," Arisato concurred, looking up from his details only for a second, "and the less you have to count on someone else, the better. Might be you'll get to university and end up with a roommate who can cook even less than you. That reminds me of a saying I heard one time – women who strive for beauty or money are always in competition with everyone else, and they still need others to help them with the basics. But a woman who can cook well can marry whomever she wants and manage just fine, because everyone has to eat."
Mitsuru raised an eyebrow at that. Marriage advice hardly seemed like Arisato's forte, and yet he delivered the line like he was discussing the weather.
Yamagishi seemed as blindsided by his words as she did, and the girl started in place, looking at him with wide eyes. "Ah… Minato-kun, I'm not getting married."
He continued on undaunted. "Of course not. But if you know how to cook, you can have your choice of who to go out with. One less thing you'll rely on someone else for. Let me know if you need a taste-tester, by the way."
"Oh, you don't mind?"
Arisato waved his free hand dismissively. "Nah. 'Nako used to do that to me all the time, and our parents were terrible cooks no matter how hard they tried, so I doubt there's anything you can make that would kill me."
There was still a strong current of hesitation in Yamagishi's voice. "Um… that's not very encouraging."
"Sorry. I just meant that whatever you make will be fine, so don't worry about it being good or not. No one starts off perfect at anything, after all."
"I'll remember that. Thank you for the offer."
Volunteering to be a taste-tester for Yamagishi? Mitsuru shook her head and settled back in her chair. Arisato was an unusual one. She chuckled at the thought, since it was sure to be one that most of his class shared, but she followed that idea while she sunned.
For all the mystery around his transfer and appearance in Tatsumi Port Island, he had changed since they had met. He was still dryer than desert sand at school, and kept his thoughts to himself better than a Las Vegas card shark, but watching him do something as mundane as building a sand castle and talk to Yamagishi about cooking told her, better than words, that he'd gotten used to their insane little group. It hadn't changed his personal habits – even when he was with them, there were clearly things he knew or thought that he kept to himself. But even doing that, he felt like part of the group. He was an exemplary leader in Tartarus, a model student if his test scores were any indication, and was more than reliable with his Student Council responsibilities – it was very refreshing to not work with someone who made a Broadway production out of asking for her opinion on school protocol.
An enigma, that one, she thought with a smile. A mature, dependable, interesting enigma who fought like a cornered shark and adapted to his surroundings better than a fangblenny, even when those surroundings involved being on a runaway train or a dilapidated hotel filled with Shadow-spawned narcotics.
Her thoughts were cut off when she heard the sound of flip-flops approaching, hesitant and slow, and she didn't need to look up to know who it was. Iori.
"Uh, hey guys. Got a minute?"
"Of course," Yamagishi replied immediately.
"What's up?" Arisato asked with none of the tension that had dogged them since their last Shadow operation.
"I… Uh, I just wanted to make sure we were cool. About, y'know, how I snapped at you guys before. It wasn't personal, and I'm sorry."
How odd. She hadn't expected Iori to apologize after he'd been keeping to himself for so long. Around her and Akihiko he'd been awkward and edgy, and Takeba had looked at him with clear exasperation since that night. While his anger had sustained him for the first few days, it seemed to burn its fuel and leave him cold in its absence, which meant keeping to himself whenever he could.
"We talked about it earlier, Junpei," Arisato replied calmly, and she could imagine the small smile on his face. "We're cool. Nothing that you need to flog yourself over."
"You were having a bad time with the Shadows and the changes and exams, weren't you?" Yamagishi offered.
"Kinda." Iori didn't sound convinced, and she could hear his feet shuffling in the sand. "It was… I dunno, just had some personal stuff come up. Reminded me of my old man, and that's not a good subject. Got to me when it shouldn't have, I guess."
"No worries," Arisato replied, his smile clear in his voice. "We all have rough weeks."
"And we're friends," Yamagishi added brightly. "I'm sure we'll all need each other's help at some point, so this was a good experience for us."
Iori chuckled, his dark mood passing like clouds before the sun. "Yeah. Thank guys. Need a hand?"
"If you're offering, sure," Arisato told him after a moment.
Their conversation dwindled into niceties and chatter about school and the recent exams. Junpei discussed the latest rumours, which Yamagishi added to before asking Arisato if he was concerned about the kendo team after his display in the ring. Arisato's low, cool tone was anything but concerned, and his dry humour helped to put her at ease. A steady anchor, unshaken by whatever storms surrounded him. He might shift and waver, but he never let it uproot him completely.
Mitsuru settled into a lull, for how long she didn't know, but the sun had moved a few degrees when she heard Arisato call her. She opened her eyes to see not just a sand castle and a moat, but a small settlement nearby complete with streets, houses, several wells and a windmill. Both Iori and Yamagishi looked proud of their accomplishment, and it was easy to see why.
"We're going to hit the waves now," Arisato told her, gesturing out to where Akihiko was already doing laps out to the short-distance buoy. "Care to join us?"
She gave a smile and pushed herself up, then glanced at his offered hand. Nothing showed through his dark sunglasses, but his stance was steady and there was nothing dry or mocking about his smile this time. She took his hand and rose to her feet, mildly surprised by the give in his fingers despite the hardened skin of his palm. He stepped back, holding her hand for a moment before letting it go and gesturing toward the ocean where Iori and Yamagishi had been joined by Takeba. When she started towards them, he fell in beside her. Not distant or subservient, and not close and presumptuous. A steady presence at her side that was as welcome as the warm sun on her skin.
Mitsuru smiled at him as they got to the water, and was surrounded by antics and laughter and childishness she wouldn't have indulged in had she been anywhere else. But she let go of her reservations and just enjoyed herself, thriving in the freedom of it.
As wonderful as the day started, that was how trying it became. Barely enough time to finish dessert and they were carted into a beautiful, luxurious lounge that would have been ideal for kicking back and lively conversation if not for the projector screen and grim expressions worn by Mitsuru-senpai and Kirijo-san. And whatever Minato expected, from talking work to an advanced school curriculum to training drills at high noon in full combat gear, it didn't even scratch the surface.
The nature of the Shadows they'd been facing. The black stain on the Kirijo Group's history. And the legacy that stretched back before any of them were out of grade school. A legacy that haunted them with malevolent intellect and dripping claws.
To Minato, it was sobering. Conspiracy theories always surrounded huge corporations and their business practices, but to have those theories confirmed, even in ways he wasn't expecting, made him a bit sick. Akihiko-senpai was a wall more impassive than the ones that made up the room, eyes closed and face turned away from the screen. He said nothing, did nothing, and seemed to be in his own world. Next to him, Junpei was staring at the screen with the same expression he'd worn when Mitsuru-senpai explained the nature of SEES to them at the dorm. Puzzled, analytical, and with growing awe and a touch of horror as the events rolled over him. Fuuka didn't seem to know what to say, so she threaded and unthreaded and rethreaded her fingers together, not looking at anyone. Mitsuru-senpai was understandably grim and silent as a pall bearer.
Yukari, to no surprise, took the news less quietly than they did. And less well. And less… pretty much everything. Seeing her father hadn't helped, and Minato was reminded of their discussion at the archery range, how her connection to the Kirijo 'wasn't a happy topic.' Learning the truth in this way, though, was a lot to take in. Too much if her snapping outbursts expressed even a fraction of what she was feeling.
She wouldn't want someone to stand up to her now. And Minato had no desire to walk into a fight over a situation he was still trying to process. So he turned away from her angry stares and ignored her scathing words, shuffling away from the edge of the couch as she left the room. She wasn't running, but she may as well have been with the agitation he felt when she passed. He let out a long breath, a gusting wind in the tomb-silent room, and glanced to the side when Mitsuru-senpai rose from her seat.
"Go talk to her. Please," she told him. She was standing straight and looking at him without reservation, but the way her fingers twitched and tapped on her arms told him she was anything but calm.
Minato shook his head as he looked at her. "I wouldn't be the best person for that, senpai."
"Please," she repeated, but he stood and looked at the door opposite where Yukari had left from.
"I grew up under the care of the Kirijo Group. So far as Yukari's concerned, I'm only slightly less connected to all this than you or Akihiko-senpai are." He glanced at her, noticing how the corner of her lips was indented, like she was biting it from the inside. "We just dropped a lot on her, and I don't think she wants me giving her a pep talk now." When he got no response, not even from Kirijo-san, he turned to their newest member with neither a grimace nor a smile. "Fuuka. Could you talk to her? Or at least hear her out?"
The girl looked at him, then the rest of them hesitantly only to find that no one would meet her eyes. "Are you sure, Minato-kun? I don't know her that well."
"None of us do," he admitted. "But all of us have some connection or other to this mess, whether it's to the Group or the Shadows. You're the odd one out in this case." It wasn't technically true – he could have asked Junpei to talk to her. But he foresaw that ending in a fight if Junpei said something wrong or Yukari took her venting too far.
"I… I'll do my best," the girl told them after a few long moments, rising uncertainly.
"Sorry to dump it in your lap, but you're the best one for the job," he told her, nodding encouragingly. It seemed to work when she nodded in reply and went out the same door as their teammate. When the door closed, Minato sat on the arm of the couch and began rubbing at his face. "Is this all you have regarding the Shadows?" he asked, looking at Mitsuru-senpai and Kirijo-san.
"Everything from our archives," Kirijo-san replied swiftly, his hard voice rolling through the room like boulders.
Minato sighed and looked to the ceiling. "Pardon my saying so, but I thought we accessed the archives before. When are we going to get all the answers if we're being told what you know in pieces?"
"I accept responsibility for that," Mitsuru-senpai told him, cutting off her father and meeting Minato's stare with a level gaze. "Ikutsuki and the Kirijo archivists informed me of some of these details weeks ago. Withholding the information was my decision."
"Why hide it?" Minato asked quietly. Akihiko-senpai glanced over and shifted in his seat, but didn't say anything. "If it was something we could have used up to now, then what reason was there to keep it from us?"
"It wasn't pertinent information," she told him immediately. "Nothing in the files mentioned the details of these larger Shadows. No weaknesses or origins that I haven't told you about." Everyone looked at her, and she sighed at the attention but continued on without faltering. "Takeba didn't trust the Kirijo Group and she made no secret about it. I didn't know how you felt about us given your background, and there was no way to find out before you arrived. If you had been from a different family and not had the preconceptions that you do, I would have told you. But we need you and Takeba, and knowing that we were behind these new Shadows, even unwittingly, could have affected morale."
He raised an eyebrow and held a hand out to the side. "You thought I would take it personally, Senpai?"
"I didn't know," she told him evenly, "and when you transferred I couldn't take the chance. I made the decision, and I take responsibility for it."
Minato stared at her for a moment before turning his gaze to the wall, letting everything sink in. The time stamp on that video was very close to the time his family died in that car accident. Akihiko-senpai had talked about the trauma giving him a Persona that never awoke, and his talk with Pharos still bothered him. Had he smelled gunpowder back then, or was he just imagining it? Memories were fickle things, and easy to change. But why that detail, and why now? Had one of those larger Shadows crashed into his family's car and killed them? If so, why would it spare a seven-year-old child? Maybe that's why he could hear them when no one else could, why Tartarus was frightening and familiar in the same breath. But what was the nature of that connection? Or was there one at all? Was he just an anomaly and all these facts were dangling, unconnected threads?
"Well?" Akihiko-senpai spoke up finally. "Where does that leave us?"
Minato glanced at him, then back at the wall. More questions, fewer answers, and the chance for suspicion and paranoia at every turn. But that road went both ways. Could he mistrust Mitsuru-senpai when he kept so much from her? He was a wild card, his abilities lacking any precedent, but they hadn't tossed him to the curb just because they didn't understand him, and he wasn't about the fracture their team because of his suspicions. Not now.
"It's irrelevant," he told them finally. "Knowing where the Shadows were ten years ago doesn't change what we have to do. Are there any surprises that we can expect that you haven't told us about? Any weapons they took with them? Maybe data on their actions that we can use?"
"My father was testing them as an energy source," Kirijo-san replied. "We weren't making tanks or guns, so there would be very little for them to take with them even if they had the minds to think of that. And very little video footage could be salvaged from then – you've seen all we have."
Minato nodded, thought the new facts over again before shrugging. "Then there's nothing to discuss. I'm not going to hold it against you for keeping this a secret – I can see why you did it."
Mitsuru-senpai gave a bow, her eyes solemn but a small smile on the edge of her lips. "Thank you, Arisato."
"That's pretty forgiving," Junpei noted, scratching the back of his head. "Time travel, experimenting with those things. Must've been tough keeping a lid on it all. This is some heavy shit."
"We've dealt with the Shadows for this long," Minato replied. "And now we know that there's twelve in total. That means we're halfway there. We have what we need to prepare for them and we haven't lost yet, so I like our odds."
"That's if everything stays even," Akihiko-senpai commented, pushing himself to his feet. "We'll just corner ourselves if we don't take them seriously. If that's everything though, I say we turn in. It's been a long day already and we did come here for a vacation, right?"
"I agree," Mitsuru-senpai murmured, folding back a yawn with a dainty, upraised hand. "We've been putting in some extreme hours lately. Make the most of it while we're here."
Minato nodded and had gone four steps when Kirijo-san rose to his feet. "Arisato. I'd like to speak to you in private." Junpei and Akihiko-senpai moved out of the way as the man headed for the far door, turning when he was at it and raising an eyebrow.
"Of course," Minato replied, voice steady. He walked past his comrades, catching the hushed questions between his senpai while Junpei wondered aloud whether the TVs in their rooms had satellite service and which channels he could get.
Kirijo-san opened the door and made his way down the hall, not looking back or even slowing down as Minato followed, a ghost against the authoritative steps that echoed off the walls and ceiling. A large, foreboding door was set in a polished marble frame, and it seemed to suck the lustre and shine from the stone surrounding it. Kirijo-san didn't slow down, however, and pushed through the heavy wooden portal with easy familiarity, and while the man moved through an office that put the command room at the dorm to shame with ease, Minato stopped and looked around, not wasting the chance to get an inside look at the hardened will behind the Kirijo Group.
As far as offices of rich men went, it had everything he expected. Light, stained furniture, fine carpets on the same marble floor that spread throughout the villa, several statues and busts that were so well polished he could have used them as shaving mirrors, and walls covered in degrees and certificates and accolades as numerous as the books that rested beneath them. Along the wall closest to the balcony was the obligatory line of portraits showing the heads of the Kirijo house. Kirijo-san was younger in his picture, with darker hair and fewer lines, lending him a softer air than the man occupying the chair across the desk from Minato. What immediately stood out was the lack of an eye patch, and Minato marveled at the difference. It made Kirijo-san look like a proud, dignified businessman. And husband and father, he thought. The portrait was probably done before Mitsuru-senpai's mother passed away.
The others down the line displayed names Minato had never heard, so he focused on the one next to Kirijo-san's. That of Mitsuru-senpai's grandfather, the catalyst of the Shadows they were fighting even now. And the portrait of the man caught his attention and made him look closer. Where Kirijo-san's features were now hard and stern, suffering no fools nor brooking careless mistakes, this man looked distant, unreachable like the face of a statue or painted onto a Grecian urn. The high brow, the angle of the chin and nose that Minato recognized in Mitsuru-senpai, even the suit and the grey in his hair radiated poise and authority, but there was a shallowness that clouded it all, like what had been painted was the shadow instead of the man. Had he been like that in real life? Or were these traits Minato attributed to him after hearing what he'd done, influenced by knowing what the man had become? Had the portrait been done before or after his ill-fated obsession with Shadows?
"Arisato Minato," Kirijo-san intoned just then, neither lenient nor impatient, but clearly in charge. "This is the first time we've met in person."
Minato turned and walked to the front of the man's desk, straightening his spine but not letting the power in that gaze push him over. Even sitting back in a plush leather chair, one leg crossed over the other as he calmly lit a fresh cigar, Kirijo-san was an imposing figure. "Yes, sir."
If the show of manners stood out to the man, he didn't show it. But neither did he grimace or give pause at the words. "Mitsuru and Ikutsuki tell me that you are exceptional in terms of your abilities," he began. "That you wield more than one Persona and have a knack for killing Shadows."
Minato let his face settle into a stoic mask, revealing nothing and tuning every sense on to the man before him. "That's right. I can't explain where they come from, but I have several Personas at any given time."
"How many?"
Minato let a small smile cross his face. "That's funny; no one's ever asked that before." He closed his eyes and touched the surface of his sub-conscious, feeling the occupants therein stir in response. "Right now I have six. I started out with one and gained more since my… abilities, shall we say, emerged in April."
Kirijo-san blinked twice, slowly, staring hard at Minato. "Six Personas?" he asked, disbelief clear in his voice. "Where did you find them?"
"I'm not sure. They aren't the same six, either. I've lost count of the ones that've come and gone so far, but I'm always developing new ones." Minato hoped Kirijo-san didn't ask what that meant – no one would believe him about Igor and Elizabeth, no matter how much he tried to convince them.
"That's uncanny," the man commented. "I thought someone could only have one Persona. A reflection of their psyche, was what I was told, and since people are who they are, there wouldn't be a need for more than one."
Minato shrugged. "It's a mystery to me as well. I'm not sure how it works, and I've spoken to Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai about it."
"Good. They know the dangers of a wild Persona."
"From the teammate who left before," Minato supplied tentatively, hoping for something to go on.
Kirijo-san nodded once, tapping the end of his cigar on the nearby ashtray. "Aragaki Shinjiro. His departure was expected considering the circumstances."
Aragaki Shinjiro. Now he had a name. "I heard different, actually. Akihiko-senpai said they didn't see it coming. That him leaving SEES was a surprise and that he wasn't likely to come back."
"Hm. He would; they were close friends. But that's for him to talk about, and not why you're here."
"Of course. What it is?"
The older man straightened in his chair and took a long breath before replying. "Your talents are unique. You know this, and I have no reason to think that you are lying about them. I hope that you'll continue to support SEES, learning what you did this evening."
"My stance on helping Mitsuru-senpai and SEES hasn't changed, Kirijo-san," Minato pointed out. "I mean that. Knowing where those things came from doesn't change what's happening, and I have no reason to cut and run now."
"Good."
"Did you doubt me?"
"People say what they don't mean around others." The older man rose from his chair, his eye hard and piercing. "They lie, pander, flatter, and do what they think will earn them credit and favour. What you say stays in this office, but I don't think that anything more needs to be said. Given your importance to SEES and the efforts to explore Tartarus, I wanted to take your measure."
"I hope I haven't disappointed, in that case."
"Not yet. That's the other reason I wanted to talk to you." Kirijo-san turned toward the window, limned in silver moonlight, and moved over to it. Minato followed, watching the man's reflection in the glass. "This gives me no pleasure to admit," the man gritted, acid and blades in his voice, "but my father experimented with Personas as well as Shadows. Personas are limited by the bearer's mind, he said, so they were secondary to a primal creature without those constraints. Less important and useful. That didn't stop him from conducting tests on them, though."
"Experimented?"
"Yes." There was half a lifetime of loathing in that word. "He used children and put them in special situations, sparked their survival instincts and stress responses to see if he could manipulate them. He wanted to influence when their Personas awakened, and what sorts of Personas would arise as a result. Another form of control, and who he used didn't matter to him."
Minato paused for a moment before his eyes widened. "Was I in any way–"
"No," Kirijo-san told him immediately. "We didn't know you existed until your parents passed away. No matter what we have kept from you, that is the truth. I wouldn't lie about that." His eye narrowed, hard steel boiling in a furnace of disgust and hate. "You would have remembered it if you were a participant. I am certain of it." The fire snapped and hissed for a few moments before banking and smouldering in place. The man's voice was still harsh enough to cut the glass before him, though. "I bring this up only because those databanks were relatively untouched. Since your transfer and joining SEES, we've combed them and made what theories we can surrounding your abilities and everything else on the subject."
"I see." It was all Minato could say. No other words worked.
"We still know very little about Personas. Mitsuru and Sanada are rare enough cases, and we can't do more than make your Evokers." The man let out a long breath and his shoulders eased back a fraction. "There are many possibilities and ideas, but no solid evidence that explains where they come from. I mention this because your unique talents might also be a very real threat to you. You're a factor we never considered before, so there are no failsafes in place to help you if your situation goes awry. I can't offer warnings that the others haven't, but I want you to know what the stakes are."
"I've felt the dangers before now," Minato replied quietly. "I'll be careful. I don't want to see the others hurt, and that's not even mentioning what my Personas would do to me if they went out of control."
"Good." Kirijo-san looked out the window for a moment before turning back to his desk and sitting in his chair, face stern from the blind side. "It's insanity," he muttered, "that children are left to fix the mistakes of my father's era. We may as well give you bombs and tanks."
"It is what it is, sir," Minato replied, oddly calm from the agitation he could feel from across the desk. "We'll be ready for what comes at us."
Kirijo-san grunted and glanced across the framed pictures before him, and Minato's eyes followed, looking at the photos curiously. Edged in gold and soft in the light of the room, they sat, carefully arranged, at just such an angle that Minato could see them.
He looked at the one closest to him, at a red-haired girl of eight or nine in a pressed, perfect school uniform who looked more serious and knowing that any child had a right to be. The next one showed a strikingly beautiful woman with familiar red hair, grinning and eyes closed as she buried her face into her daughter's long curls, because that could only be senpai's mother. Beneath was the caption 'We love you, Daddy – 1998.' The third showed that same girl, younger still, held in the loving embrace of her parents as they posed for the camera. Kirijo-san was almost unrecognizable with the gentle smile on his face and in his eyes. Finally, the last one he could see showed Mitsuru-senpai in a middle school uniform, blouse and skirt with shorter hair and shoes instead of boots. Perched on her head was a scholar's cap, in her hands a series of awards. Minato smiled a little – she was an achiever even then – but sobered when he saw her eyes. Intelligent, canny, and far older than her face or clothes suggested. Some took their experiences, good and bad, and learned from them, grew with them, but he knew that wasn't strictly the case in that picture. She had grown and attained much, of course, but at a cost. The girl in those photos had learned things, seen things, that had burned her even as they taught her. "It can't be easy for Mitsuru-senpai," he told the man, pointing to the picture. "Knowing all this, living with the things her grandfather did."
"My father," Kirijo-san correctly sharply. "He was my father, but she needs not bear the burden of such a relation to that man."
"Your father," Mintao conceded. "Everything he did, everything we're seeing now. I see why she pushes herself so hard."
There was a storm of emotions in Kirijo-san's eye. Anger, regret and grief, resentment and hopelessness, all raging around the steel will of a man who would take all the evils of the world unto himself if he could. And Minato felt it, an insight that rose from the depths and broke the waters of his mind –Kirijo Takeharu was normal. He didn't have a Persona, no inborn talent or means of making these problems disappear. Instead he had a poisoned legacy, guilt from actions he hadn't committed and consequences he'd tried to stop, and no means of assuaging either. For all the wrongs he'd experienced, everything he'd wanted to make right, he had to rely on others to make his desires real and hope for the best.
In that instant, for a broken splinter of time, Minato saw a man who'd lost his wife but couldn't mourn her. A father who watched his only child fight battles that he couldn't protect her from. A person who endured three generations of pain because it was the only path left open to him.
Then the moment was over, and Kirijo Takeharu was granite and nails again. "She takes too much on her shoulders. Even with Ikutsuki running the dorm, she cares nothing for herself. Leading the team, being at the centre of it all. It will kill her someday."
"I don't think you give her enough credit, sir," Minato replied, steeling himself for the man's scrutiny. "She takes on a lot, but I don't think she resents it. She's adapted to fighting Shadows, she's a star at school, and she's always helped me when I needed it. I don't think she could have juggled all those roles if she didn't enjoy it on some level."
"You think that she takes pleasure from these responsibilities?"
"I think it's how she does all those things you mentioned and still supports the people around her like they matter. Because to her, they do. She's not an official reading reports and giving orders to people she's never met. She lives with us, fights with us, and never gives less than her all. She's strong because of that, and if I may be so bold, she's an inspiration to all of us."
Kirijo-san looked at him, both hard and assessing, like he was viewing a familiar problem from a new angle. "Perhaps." Then his tone was authoritative again. "It's good that you appreciate the risks of your condition and circumstances, Arisato. Inform Ikutsuki or Mitsuru if anything changes. That is all."
Minato bowed politely, taking the tone and dismissal on the chin. "Thank you for your time then. Good night." He backed up two steps before heading for the door, not making a sound and hearing nothing but the slight creak of the chair and long inhales and exhales, the heavy scent of the cigar, when he opened the door. Before he passed through, he took one covert glance back at the man. Leaning back and tapping the arm of his chair, Kirijo-san looked no different. But he was staring at the pictures of his wife and daughter on the desk.
And maybe, just maybe, there was the hint of a smile on his lips.
The next morning was an odd mix of tension and indifference. Fuuka had helped Yukari calm down and brought her back to her room, and it seemed like they were closer than before. That hadn't stopped Yukari from giving Mitsuru-senpai the cold shoulder, however, and the redhead seemed bothered by the development, but didn't know how to handle it. Minato was processing everything his meeting with Kirijo-san had told him about the man and Mitsuru-senpai, and carefully filled and emptied his plate of fruits and toast and miso soup and more from the breakfast buffet table. Akihiko looked like he wanted to say something to the girls, but couldn't find the words, which left him eating so mechanically that one could have replaced his protein mix with powdered concrete and he wouldn't have noticed. And Junpei being Junpei regaled Minato on all the channels that the villa's TVs had to offer while he ate everything in sight.
Fuuka suggested that they go on a walk and hit the beach later, trying to break some of the heaviness in the air. Mitsuru offered to guide them along some paths and trails she knew, and Yukari surprisingly accepted when Fuuka invited her along, but her distracted tone showed that she wasn't all there. On the heels of the girls, Junpei declared that 'we guys have something to do at the beach, so we'll see you when you're done.' Minato threw him a questioning look, but the student grinned and brushed off any and all questions, which only gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach that withered away what remained of his appetite.
That was how Minato and Akihiko-senpai found themselves on the beach, being briefed on 'Operation: Babe Hunt,' and that sinking feeling gave way to an exasperated sigh. He would have risked an official reprimand and gone AWOL at the first opportunity if Akihiko-senpai hadn't gotten the bit in his teeth and taken on Junpei's challenge. That sealed it for Minato. Junpei he could handle, even at the risk of the teen's ire, but Akihiko-senpai could, and probably would, run him down if he tried to desert his comrades. And thus began their attempts at picking up the various girls on the beach. Junpei's luck might have been better if he weren't tripping over his tongue, but Minato admitted to himself that he wasn't trying very hard. All the girls they hit up reminded him of the students he tried to avoid back at school, and for exactly the same reasons. Be it their snobby attitudes or their 'in-crowd' way of talking, he had no time for them and only put in a cursory effort to satisfy the others. They saw it as a failure, and he was just about to suggest that they go back down the beach and see if the girls had finished their walk when Junpei stiffened and pointed toward the pier.
Akihiko-senpai whistled next to them, leaning forward and directing Minato's gaze.
She was tall, dressed in flowing pale blue and staring out to sea. Did she look sad? Maybe, since she didn't move. But maybe she was just enjoying the view and tuning out, listening to something catchy on those earphone of hers. Minato's eyes narrowed. Only she wasn't bobbing her head or moving her hips or even shuffling her feet. And he wasn't sure that those were earphones; they weren't a model he recognized.
"Dude," Junpei whispered reverently. "Jackpot."
"No kidding," Akihiko-senpai agreed.
Minato's response was less enthusiastic. "If you like blondes, I guess. Or girls who wear nightgowns while visiting the beach. Should we really bother with this?"
"Of course we should!" Junpei insisted sharply. "I mean, look at her! Beautiful, alone, lost in an uncaring world as she looks over the ocean, waiting for word of her one true love. There's no way we can leave here like that! I say we go talk to her."
Minato blinked for a moment, then turned to his comrade, incredulous. "Did you just quote 'Farewell my Forlorn Love'? First off, doesn't this situation seem strange? Second, the director of that movie was on drugs, and third, no one talks like that anymore. It doesn't apply to this in any way."
"Of course it does!" Junpei hissed, pointing to the girl without looking too obvious. "We struck out before, but this is a perfect chance to even the score. And don't diss those movies – chicks love stuff like that. Everyone says so."
And off he went, taking a few fortifying breaths before heading down the pier with a winning smile across his face.
Minato sighed, not paying attention as they talked. "If girls like that stuff, then why didn't he use those lines before?"
Whether Junpei did or didn't try said lines on this girl, he returned to their hiding spot rubbing his forehead, clearly puzzled. "Man, what is with her?" he murmured. "She didn't have to be that blunt."
"I'll go next," Akihiko-senpai told them, watching the girl closely as he followed in Junpei's footsteps.
"Since when does he care so much about girls?" Minato muttered, edging away from the scene and looking into the trees near the beach. Maybe his senpai really had a thing for foreigners. When he heard dejected footsteps approaching again, he scratched his cheek and spoke over his shoulder. "So, good try all around. Shall we learn from our failures and see the wisdom in looking forward? With great attempts it's glorious even to fail? Let's call it–" There was a sudden rush of limbs and he was forcibly spun around. "Wha– Whoa! Hey!" He would have snapped at them for being manhandled, but he was faced with two pairs of crazed, burning eyes.
"You're our leader," Junpei told him quietly, glaring hard. "No way you're getting out of this without giving your all."
"This is nuts," Minato shot back. "She looks like an asylum patient in that getup, and hasn't moved in spite of being hit on. She's not even looking over here after you two came from the same direction. Why doesn't this seem weird to you?"
"Give it a go anyway. We can't leave without something to show for it," Akihiko-senpai told him, almost in a hiss. "It makes up for you not trying before."
Minato winced on the inside; he'd hoped they hadn't noticed. "Alright, alright," he conceded, pushing their hands off and heading toward the pier while trying to find something charming to say. Not because he wanted to – he wasn't into blondes – but because he was increasingly convinced that failure to do so would end in him being skinned alive and thrown into the ocean.
Only he didn't have the chance to succeed or fail. As soon as a 'Hey' left his mouth, the girl spun to face him. Her words barely made sense, but he was struck, like a wooden plank to the kidneys, by the feeling of wrongness as soon as he saw her face. Her tone was off, her eyes seemed alert yet dead, and she tore past him at a dead sprint that left him, like an idiot, watching the spot where she'd been standing until moments before.
What held him in place, even as Junpei and Akihiko-senpai rushed up to him, was a cold shock like circling shark fins that her words left in him. And her face in the few seconds he'd had to see it…
"What the hell was that?" Junpei demanded. "What'd you say to her?"
"Nothing," he replied woodenly, not looking at them or moving as he tried to make sense of his instincts. They'd caught him flat-footed, should have startled him, yet his Personas were at rest, and that made him even more uneasy.
"She just ran into the woods, so you must've said something to her," Akihiko-senpai commented, fist on his hip. "You'd better not have tried to blow this just for kicks."
"I said 'hello.' That's it," Minato told them with a level stare. "Maybe she's off her meds and that's a trigger word of hers. Or she's a sleeper agent with the American military and Virginia just called. How should I know?"
"Well the least you can do is follow her to apologize," Junpei told him in a tone that brooked no argument.
Only Minato didn't argue. He stared back at the water in thought and tried to jostle his memory. Blonde, blue eyes, pale skin and fair features. Pretty, perhaps, but nothing that would stop traffic, and a low, level voice. He couldn't place her, had no idea where the feeling was coming from, but that didn't stop the cold feeling from sending another shiver through him.
Someone snapped the fingers near his face to get his attention. "Hey. Are you listening?"
"Yeah, yeah," Minato murmured, brushing the hand away. "I'm just… sure I've seen her before."
Akihiko-senpai raised an eyebrow, head tilted and the fire from the competition leaving him at last. "What? Are you sure?"
"I think so. I have no idea from where, though."
"Well, maybe seeing her again will help. Since she reacted like that, it could be that she knows you. All the more reason to follow her and see for yourself."
"Yeah, Senpai, I know." Minato looked at the trail the girl had taken like it was the hotel door that the last Shadow had been hiding behind. "I just have a bad feeling about this, that's all."
Junpei looked at him speculatively, adjusting his hat as he followed Minato's gaze. "Why? She's a girl in a nightgown, and sure, she freaked out and took off, but it's not like she's dangerous. Not to us."
"Appearances can be deceiving," Akihiko-senpai reminded him. "Even if she didn't look like much more than a girl our age. I have no idea what sort of threat she could present, though."
Minato gave a sigh. "Me neither." And standing around wasn't going to answer any questions. He turned his senses inward and stirred the sea of his soul, feeling his six Personas awaken at once and rise in his mind. His nerves prickled and hummed, like he'd touched a light socket while wet, but this time it wasn't painful. He gave a soft snort – maybe his Personas were napping and on vacation too and didn't feel like making things hard for him. But they were ready if he needed them. "I guess I'll go find her and see what the problem is."
"Hopefully it isn't a problem," Akihiko-senpai replied, eyes narrow.
"We'll follow you if you need the backup," Junpei offered.
Minato thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "She responded to me, and running away suggests she's not hostile. Not yet, anyway. Maybe you guys should get in touch with Mitsuru-senpai and the others though, see if they know anything about this."
"Right. We're on it," was Junpei's response.
Minato set off into the trees then, carefully picking his steps and taking his time. He hoped he didn't have to fight given that he was wearing sandals instead of shoes and had left his Evoker back in the dorm. But his Personas were a welcome comfort this time.
Up the trail, around the bend, and finally reaching a huge tree with a large wooden sign at the base, he saw the mystery girl staring at him from behind it. Only there was nothing subtle about her surveillance. Half her face was hidden by the sign, but the other half was steady and unmoving, like a child who believed that desire was all it took to be invisible.
Well, he'd found her. He was about to greet her again when she walked out from behind the sign and stopped about ten feet from him. The same sense of foreboding crept up on him like cold, rising fog. His breath caught and eyes narrowed while his awakened Personas circled like hawks, power spiking and waiting for an order. It set his nerves sparking and snapping again. "Who are you?" he demanded, tasking half a step back and centering his weight.
Her pupils narrowed while her eyelids stayed the same. "You are him. I see that I was not incorrect. Allow me to be near you from now on."
Her voice, so even and level and flat, set his hackles up. "What?"
"Aigis!" a voice called from behind them and broke the moment like a crystal glass hitting a concrete floor. Minato turned to see Ikutsuki, still in his suit for some reason, and the girls following him looking curious or bewildered or both. "There you are," the dorm administrator continued, amused and chiding at the same time. "On whose directive did you leave the facility?"
"On my own directive," the girl replied, simple and concise like she was replying to an order. "I concluded that such was necessary for an accurate assessment of the situation. I felt that such would further your goal in awakening me. Was I mistaken?"
"Of course not," Ikutsuki chuckled. "Of course not. But we could have waited until the others had the chance to hear about it first. A proper introduction would have made this easier."
By then Akihiko-senpai and Junpei caught up to them, making inquiries and pointing to the girl, Aigis. Minato's nerves were still fluttering like a hummingbird's wings, unsure if he was being threatened or not. "What's going on?" he asked finally. "Who is she?"
Ikutsuki took them back to the villa, promising answers when they got there. Minato kept as far as he could from her, insisting that she stay near Ikutsuki and Fuuka while never lowering his guard. When they arrived, they got their answers about Aigis and the Anti-Shadow Weapons made by the Kirijo. Fuuka was immediately fascinated, Yukari tested out the social conversation protocols when she could, and Mitsuru-senpai looked curious but otherwise unruffled. Junpei and Akihiko-senpai looked resigned and one of them made a comment about 'a robot by the ocean in a nightgown. How does that make sense?'
Minato stayed only long enough to ask what he been on his mind since he'd met her at the pier. "How does she know me? What did she say when she said she wants to be near me?"
"I stated that because it is my desire," Aigis responded immediately. "Is my answer unsatisfactory?"
"Perhaps her recognition programs are out of sync," Ikutsuki offered. "Unless you two have met before?"
"Not to my knowledge," Minato replied, trying to avoid Aigis's stare.
"Desires mean that she's close to human in some way though, doesn't it?" Fuuka inquired excitedly. "Machines don't have those."
"Unless she's programmed to word it that way to seem more human," Minato pointed out.
"You don't seem as enthusiastic as the others, Arisato-kun," Ikutsuki noted with a raised eyebrow. "Is something the matter?"
Minato's eyes shifted back to Aigis, who was, again, staring at him. And the prior unease hadn't subsided. But where was it coming from? Was the idea of a robot in the shape of a high-school girl wielding a Persona so unexpected that the reality of it was setting him off? She didn't seem threatening, but just being near her put him on edge. Why was she giving him a false positive like this? His Personas were agitated by him, not her, and yet his instincts didn't stop whispering, keeping him on guard.
"It's been a long day," he told them finally, breaking eye contact with Aigis and waving a hand dismissively. "There's lots to think about considering we're supposed to be on vacation. I'm turning in." Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed for the door leading to their rooms.
"Have I caused offense?" he heard Aigis ask, loud and clear, when his hand closed on the knob. It gave him pause, and not because of her. Instead, he knew that he was brushing off his comrades, his friends, because of something he couldn't give name to, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. But that didn't stop it from nagging him. Another mystery, more unanswered questions and dangling threads, and once again they were being kept in the dark, by circumstance or by design, and he had no idea how to start sorting it all out.
Rather than verbalizing any of his concerns, he gave his answer in a much more direct way: he pulled the door open, slipped from the room, and firmly shut it behind him without looking back.
Stonehenge. The Great Wall. Giza's Great Pyramid. Hagia Sophia and the Taj Mahal. Minato sighed and put the stack back on the wire rack and tried the next one while covering his mouth for a jaw-creaking yawn. He'd hoped that a decent night's sleep and some time to himself would set his mind back on track. But it didn't. First there were the questions about Aigis and how she knew him and why his instincts were warning him about her. Second was everything about the Shadows he'd learned from Kirijo-san and how it applied to Tartarus, which was oddly absent from the discussion. Third was preparing for more Shadow-killing excursions once they got back to the dorm, which only dampened his mood. He'd wanted to enjoy his vacation, but work wouldn't leave him alone, keeping him up half the night as concerns circled his mind like water in a drain. He'd woken up with gritty eyes and feeling drugged, actually tripping twice on his way to the shower and having breakfast in private. He'd been partway through his regular stretches and workout when he decided on a course of action for the morning, and he'd gone to it without a second thought.
When the novel causes problems, his kendo teacher had told him, return to the familiar. Go back to the basics and work from there.
So that's what he was doing. Hitting up the local gift shop and indulging an old interest born from being relegated to a schedule of school, kendo, and appointments with the Kirijo: collecting postcards.
He brought up a new stack and began to flip through them, smiling at what he saw. Machu Picchu, the Panama Canal, Chichen Itza, and the Potala Palace in China. There was also one of the Aurora Borealis that he hadn't seen before, the colours vibrant and a soothing contrast to the blue and gold he'd seen since arriving, and he set them aside to purchase.
A cursory glance through the rest of the shop concluded his shopping expedition, not needing to buy any souvenirs or good luck charms. He was just passing by the magazine stands when he heard someone speaking from the other side.
"Oh, aren't these cute!" a familiar voice gushed. That would be Fuuka.
"These cell phone straps are pretty nice," Yukari noted. "Seems like resorts have the best selection for stuff like this."
"What is the purpose of such ornamentation?"
Aigis. Minato's growing smile died. Even hearing her voice made him uneasy, and he made a swift decision to leave before the others knew he was there. Far easier to avoid the drama and awkwardness of talking to their newest member than be caught lying about it.
"It's to make things look nicer," Yukari explained. "Like that ribbon we got you. You don't need it, but it suits you, and people appreciate someone who looks classy when they see them."
"Fabric is used for the purpose of camouflage or modesty," Aigis replied immediately.
"Sometimes girls want to look better, though, and these sorts of things help with that." Yukari seemed to enjoy explaining these things to Aigis, though how the other people in the store didn't find the robot's way of speaking unusual was a mystery.
Paying for his purchases and slipping around the displays when they weren't looking, Minato made his way quietly toward the door, happy to be in his shoes and silent as a graveyard mouse when he moved. He was out of their line of sight and about to push the door open when Aigis's voice caught him again. "Do you feel that Minato-san is offended by me? His reactions suggest a level of dislike, if not a lack of trust."
Already onto his first name? Minato snorted and cast an annoyed glance in her direction. For a robot, she was certainly brazen.
"Minato-kun was probably just trying to put everything together," Fuuka told her new companion. "There's a lot riding on his shoulders, and even Mitsuru-senpai defers to him in the field sometimes. New situations need to be considered all the time, so I think you caught him at a bad time."
"We also don't know a lot about him," Yukari pointed out. "None of us discuss our backgrounds unless we have to. It's kind of a rule. And he keeps a lot of things to himself; that's just how he is."
"By that logic, what is the suggested course of action so that he is less offended by me?"
"Well, he might like his space," Yukari suggested. "He's a pretty private kinda guy, so having someone pledge to be near him all the time like he's a feudal lord might've been a bad place to start."
"That could not be avoided," Aigis asserted immediately. "It is my desire to be near him. Communicating as much deterred future complications."
Fuuka hummed over the response, and Minato tossed in his chips and headed back to the villa. He set a swift pace, slipping past beachgoers and tourists and workers as smoothly as he could and was up the villa steps before he let Aigis's words sink in. And he narrowed his eyes when they did. Yukari had the right of it – he didn't want someone or something hanging around him uninvited, especially not when she set off so many of his alarm bells and couldn't or wouldn't explain why she found him so fascinating. He was going to have to talk to Mitsuru-senpai or Ikutsuki when they got back to Tatsumi Port Island regarding where she was going to stay, because the last thing he needed was another guest entering and leaving his room unannounced. Pharos was plenty in that respect.
"Hey!" Junpei called out, dressed in his swimming trunks and sandals. "Me and Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai are heading to the beach. Wanna join us? Yukatan and Fuuka took Aigis gift shopping a while ago, so they should be back later."
"Will there be another operation?" Minato asked, shouldering his small bag of purchases and glad for the distraction from his thoughts.
Junpei cocked his head before waving a hand dismissively. "Huh? Oh, that. Nah, no sense in taking the chance. With our luck we'll find a man-eating mermaid if we try to pick up girls again. This is just for the fun of it."
Maybe he could try for a day off. Yukari and Fuuka could keep Aigis busy, and he could build another sand castle. Or sunbathe with Mitsuru-senpai. She respected space and silence in equal measure. "Sure," Minato told his comrade. "I'm in. Let me drop off my stuff and I'll be down there in a minute."
Shortly after he dropped off his postcards and changed into his swimwear, he was making his way to the now-familiar stretch of sand, complete with a beach house and a stocked fridge, and saw Junpei floating on the tides while Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai were talking quietly.
"Arisato," Mitsuru-senpai greeted as he approached, looking past him and to the villa.
"Senpai," he replied, nodding to them both. "We leave tomorrow, right?"
"That's right," Akihiko-senpai confirmed. "Make sure you've got all your stuff before we leave."
"That won't be a problem." Minato looked at the Kirijo heiress curiously, who was looking back at the villa with an oddly impatient expression. "Is something wrong, Mitsuru-senpai?"
"I'd like to get more sunscreen on before I get too comfortable," she explained while crossing her arms. Minato was glad for his sunglasses since he couldn't resist the swelling of her breasts that such an action inspired. She truly was beautiful in that swimsuit, and yet she acted like she was wearing her school uniform. "The maids were too busy with my father's departure to help me this time."
Minato nodded in understanding. She probably wasn't big on being burnt, especially with skin that fair. "That makes sense."
Then there was a low, calm chuckle to the side. "If you're looking for someone to do your back, I think Arisato here should be fine," Akihiko-senpai suggested, stopping Minato's heart cold. What was he doing?
Mitsuru-senpai looked back with a raised eyebrow. "It's just sunscreen, Akihiko. No need to nominate someone for the position."
"Right, but I'm going to go for a swim, and who knows when the girls are going to get back with Aigis. No sense in wasting time on our last day here, right?"
Minato wanted to throttle his senpai as much as he wanted to sink into the sand and disappear. Sure, Mitsuru-senpai was gorgeous, and he was fine just having a pleasant conversation. But being behind her? Touching her? What was Akihiko-senpai thinking? But then his heart settled a little when she stayed silent for a moment. She'd probably wait for Fuuka to help her with it, so there was no need to–
"I see your point. Arisato, would you help me?"
And his mind derailed and fell off the bridge, breaking on a canyon floor. Putting sunscreen on Kirijo Mitsuru? Touching her when she couldn't see him? His mind went back to their fencing match and how she'd so soundly beaten him, and his temperature spiked. No no no, this was wrong. This was a joke, a really bad joke.
Mitsuru-senpai seemed ignorant to his mental marathon. "I just need you to get the parts of my back that I couldn't. I hope it's not an imposition."
"It… it's not…" He couldn't say it past the hundreds of other syllables that wanted to come out. It was the first real time that he'd ever been tongue-tied.
Then Akihiko-senpai smacked him on the back as he passed. "Don't worry. Just you being Mitsuru's assistant, right? Nothing to it."
When Minato gained enough of his senses to turn and glare at the star boxer, he got an uncharacteristic grin and a wave in response. And then the Senior was gone.
There was a slight shifting in the sand, and he turned to see Mitsuru-senpai looking a little uncomfortable. "It's no imposition," he assured her finally. "I'd be happy to help you. Did you have a way you wanted to do this?"
She nodded and pointed to her chair. "Move to the back," she instructed, and then turned and sat in front of him, shuffling back a little and making her swimsuit hug her closer while certain parts of her body wiggled and shifted with her movements. Minato's eyes blocked out the sand and the ocean and the chair, focusing only on her to the exclusion of all reality. It was only her handing him the sunscreen that kept him convinced that he wasn't dreaming in his room.
Once he took the bottle, she reached back and pulled up the wealth of her hair, revealing her back and the ties of her top. They were tight and unlikely to break, but the action showed him the wealth of unbroken skin that was her back. And for how much those swimsuit ties were holding up, he was surprised by how small they were. "You can get started," she told him calmly.
"Y-yeah." He sounded like an idiot. He knew it. But it was all he could say just then.
And it seemed she'd picked up his unease. "If it's a problem–"
"It isn't," he blurted out. "It's just… not what I expected. Akihiko-senpai sorta caught me by surprise, that's all."
She gave a thoughtful hum and turned to where their comrade was working on his backstroke. "That was unusual for him. He seemed to want a response out of you for some reason."
"Right. I'm not sure what he was up to either." He oiled up his hands and was about to start when she spoke again.
"By the way, what did he say to you the other day? After we arrived and met here, it seemed like you were disagreeing on something."
Minato froze. Of course she would ask, in her swimsuit and sitting in front of him like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Being this close was hard, but recreating that scene didn't help.
"She looks good, doesn't she? Don't let her catch you staring, or she'll put you on the spot."
"I wasn't staring," Minato snapped back.
"It was nothing, Senpai," he told her, a little shaky as the memory vanished and left him with the sight of her skin. "He was just poking fun." When Minato finally touched her back, careful as he could be, she flinched away. "Sorry," he told her immediately.
"No, it's not your fault. This is a rather novel situation."
"I guess so. I'll try to be careful though." He started applying it and tried to get used to how warm her skin was under his hands. How soft it was and how firm the muscles were underneath. In spite of her presence and the sheer force of her will, she wasn't especially large either. Broader in the shoulders than Yukari, maybe, but that probably came from a lifetime of fencing. Nor was she thin like some of the girls in class who cut meals and bemoaned their weight, frantically searching for diet ideas. No, Kirijo Mitsuru was put together just right.
"You're doing fine. I won't break under a bit of pressure." She ended her words with a little hum, or maybe half a chuckle. Was she ticklish as well?
"Right. I didn't think so." He continued to carefully put on the sunscreen, watching that he didn't accidentally untie anything or brush a finger too low, and felt his apprehension die down a little. As little as a pound of metal off the Statue of Liberty, but at least it was in the right direction. The he looked up to the nape of her beautiful neck (when had he thought necks were beautiful?) and saw a thin white streak nestled against the upper knot of her top. Tan lines, he thought immediately. And of course she would have them – she wasn't an exhibitionist, even if her family owned the beach – but seeing them on her neck, and the middle of her back when he looked a bit closer, only made him think of the other parts of her that weren't tanned. The other parts of her he couldn't see. And his breathing stopped as he tensed up again.
"You're uncomfortable," she noted, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. "Is it because of Aigis?"
She gave him an out and something else to focus on, but his relief didn't change that she was at least partially correct. And maybe talking to her about it would help. "That's… part of it, I suppose. Something about her puts me on edge. Maybe it's the uncanny valley, or how odd it is for someone I've never met before wanting to be close to me. Part of it feels like another unexplained coincidence, and I've had enough of those to last a lifetime."
"That's understandable. She'll be a valuable asset when we grow accustomed to her, but she puts me on my guard as well, if that helps."
"It does, actually. Why does she bother you, Senpai?"
Mitsuru-senpai gave a small hum, and he felt the vibrations under her skin as he stopped applying sunscreen. "I think it's because she looks and sounds human, but isn't. Even with an ego and a Persona, she has no depth, no soul beyond what is ascribed to her. I look at her for details and secrets but find nothing. Like looking down a well for water and hitting rock bottom right away. It feels like a contradiction."
"I understand. And I'm glad that I'm not the only one who finds her strange." He was done oiling her back, and couldn't keep up the façade that he wasn't. She might have been blind to his personal conflict and to her own beauty, but he was sure she knew how long it took to put on sunscreen. "You're done, Mitsuru-senpai," he told her as he shuffled back on the chair. "Shouldn't have any problems or burns now."
"Thank you, Arisato. I appreciate it." She looked at him as he rose and stepped back so she could lie down. "Make sure you enjoy your time here," she told him as she shuffled around on her chair, setting her sarong into place. "We might get busy once we return to the dorm, and it would be a waste if you spent your time here focused on the future."
Minato gave a wry smile at how well she could read him when it came to work. "That's why we're here in the first place, right?"
"Correct. It's difficult, I know, but don't let the opportunity pass you by." Then she laid back on her chair and spread her hair out like a wavy red fan, clearly intent on catching some rays.
He headed to the beach and focused on keeping his mind off Tatsumi Port Island. He expanded on the sand castle with Fuuka, then got into a water fight with Junpei and Yukari, and even raced Akihiko-senpai out to the buoy and back to soak in as much of their vacation as he could. When he looked up from his senpai's chuckles and thanks for the challenge and trying to catch his breath, he saw Mitsuru-senpai speaking quietly to Aigis, who was, for once, not looking at him. Maybe it was deliberate and she was keeping the robot busy, or maybe she was just satisfying her own curiousity, but either way he didn't have to worry about the strange stares and feeling off kilter. He gave a thankful half-bow from where he sat in the waves, regardless if she saw it, and turned back to Yukari and Junpei.
They stayed there for the rest of the day, through Ikutsuki's reminder and lunch and even dinner as the sun began to go down. None of them were leaving the beach paler than a nice bronze tan, but now there was an energy that had been missing from their group before, a vibrant hum that Minato could feel as he watched from the chairs that evening. Junpei had brought out a stash of fireworks and was looking for matches. Minato was certain his senpai or at least Yukari would tear into him for that, but then Yukari and Fuuka brought out their own pouches of coloured explosives, and Akihiko-senpai provided several lighters.
Some sat on the sand, others directed the rockets into the air, but they all watched the multi-coloured bursts and streaks across the sky with joy. And when Minato looked at them, watching out for any problems, they felt like a team. Maybe more. A family? No, he decided, they weren't that far along. Not yet. But they were closer than the students who'd been brought together by the dorm back in April, and stronger than the fragmented group that'd left that broken-down hotel.
"They're happy now," Mitsuru-senpai commented as she approached from the side, watching the group with a fetching little smile across her rosebud lips. "This wouldn't have been possible at the dorm."
"Not as they were, no," Minato agreed, letting her come as close as she wanted and luxuriating in the smell of her hair and sunscreen when she stopped near him.
"I have a request," she told him after several minutes and numerous booms, screaming streaks and firecracker pops. "You did well earlier, so I thought you would be the best one to ask."
Minato threaded his fingers together and tried not to blush at the memory of how her skin felt. "I'll do what I can. What is it?"
"I've been reflecting on where I need to improve myself," she began, slow but calm and watching him with those incredible red eyes. "And I'd like to try new eating experiences, particularly at fast-food establishments. If you have the time, I'd like you to show me the proper etiquette so I don't look like a fool."
Minato stared at her, this time without his sunglasses to cover his surprise. Did… had she just asked him on a date? Lunch dates for the purpose of research, sure, but it was the last thing he imagined he would hear from her.
"That's not the first time you've made that expression," she noted, shifting a little in place and looking away uncertainly. "If I am out of line, then I apologize. It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."
"It's not that," he told her immediately. "I'm not uncomfortable, it's just… you're very good at saying things I don't expect."
"All war is deception," she commented, brushing her hair back. "It's why you beat those students in the kendo ring, isn't it?"
"It's also how you put me down at fencing," he replied, grinning at the memory. "But I take your point. And it would be an honour. You name the time and day, and I'll go with you. Wherever you want to go."
That got a warm smile from her and a small bow of the head. "Thank you, Arisato. I don't think I could ask the others for that. And your discretion is appreciated."
"Anytime, Senpai. Just ask."
They looked out over the ocean, alight with stars and the rising moon and reflecting fireworks. And it occurred to Minato that there were only a few inches between them. They were leaning on the same chair, after all. But he didn't say anything, happy to be where he was. And she didn't move away from him even after a comfortable silence rested between them.
That brought a firework-lit smile to his face and he went back to watching his friends. If she didn't have a problem being this close, then neither did he.
Location Unknown
It wasn't much. A spike in the usual security protocols that maintained the familiar net of static and consistency, nothing but a small voice in the usual white noise. Normally it wouldn't have been enough to garner an acknowledgement, let alone a response. But when it repeated in a signal that was foreign to the system, and when that signal echoed four times before the security runtimes cut it off completely, it was enough to initiate a cursory response. Sub-systems roused from dormancy and commenced a scan of the situation, sending readouts flashing by in a second.
-Runtimes 4749-18374 initiated. Accessing peripheral systems.
-Priority: Confirm present scenario. Contact sources for status update.
Establishing contact…
-External sources unavailable. Connection blocked. Probable cause: Mechanical failure.
-Priority update: Establish connection with individual units to confirm situation.
Searching databanks…
-Individual KASW 0-2-0 A optimal candidate. Reasoning: Prior experience and autonomy.
Searching… … Searching… … Individual KASW 0-2-0 A not found.
Runtimes cascaded into mission priorities, hundreds of programs processing, conflicting, coalescing in milliseconds, as silent as the room. None of the usual visitors were around. They must have been sleeping – it was that hour, after all.
The programs cut off when the scanning signal returned, cutting through the processes and lighting up circuits in its wake. A message that took highest priority.
-Presence detected. Possible threat. Proximity: Less than 5km. Details: Minimal. Suggested course of action: Gather data. Assess extent of threat, respond as necessary.
Scanning…
-Internal databanks deemed unsuitable. Reason: Facilities present insufficient resources.
Compiling data… Assessing objectives…
-Primary objective: Locate and assess source of presence. Measure threat and risk levels. Eliminate if necessary.
-Primary objective: Establish contact with KASW 0-2-0 A.
-Perpetual objective: Eliminate threats as required.
-Data consensus: Present location unsuitable. Autonomy required.
Activating.
Systems that had laid long inactive flashed to life, immediately streamlining performance and efficiency. Cognitive functions, assessment protocols, combat initiatives, and support codes wove together in a gestalt of processing power. Consciousness arose, objectives were acknowledged, and everything necessary was at hand.
Two red eyes slowly opened.
