Author's Notes: Seems like everyone loved Strega last chapter, so I'll definitely make sure that I up the ante for next time they take centre stage. And the festival with Minato and Mitsuru? Yeah, that'll be in here too. So I won't take up too much of my awesome audience's time.

Can't go without the replies and dedications, though:

Armeh: It's easy for me to lose perspective at times, so I appreciate the commentary. I'm not sure that I'd call Change of Engagement a masterpiece, but that's only because it's still a work in progress. I'll be able to make that call when I've finished it, and when I get all the feedback on how it ends. That said, I'm glad that my vocabulary and word choice aren't offputting. I do want the chapters to be accessible, after all. And I'm glad you liked the fight scenes since that tells me a lot about how I'll be writing some upcoming chapters. Chidori was an interesting choice since we see so little of her real feelings in the game. As to the date scene, well, no worries: you won't be waiting that long to see it. Hope you like the chapter.

Guest (Jan 25): Glad you liked it. More awesomeness to come.

The Greater Foo1: Strega was a lot of fun to write, and putting the crew in a bad situation was an enjoyable little exercise. You can definitely expect to see more of them in the future, same as there will be more Minato x Mitsuru scenes since we need to have some fun before things really start getting weird, right? Right. As to the other stuff? We'll have to wait and see until we get there. But I promise it will be totally worth it. Cheers!

Erebus13: You won't be disappointed then, since the festival date is just on the horizon. Glad you liked Minato and the others since him connecting with Yukari and Aigis was in the cards. I mean, he's strong and smart, but he's not perfect or always right, right? Right. Also glad you're liking Strega, because they have a lot more screen time in the future chapters, and will be even more scary and dangerous. Interested? And as to the date, all I'll say is that there won't be any hand waving and passing by this time.

neojames navares: You need wait no longer, my friend. Here ye be!

Hawkeye Raider: It probably says something odd about my psyche that Koromaru's part came to me the easiest and required the least amount of editing. That said, I'm proud of how it came out, so I'm glad it came across well. As to the team, well, not everything's sunshine and roses. Smooth rides are nice and all, but the occasional bumpy part to the ride makes it more fun, I feel, and more human. And that's always what I strive for, which is why I put in Minato's Personas ripping out of him. Another detail I'm happy with. Glad you're liking it so far, and I hope that I continue to meet (exceed) your expectations. Enjoy!

Valkyrie: Any time at all. It was actually good timing since we'll be seeing more of them together and learning a few things about them as we go from here on out. Lots of potential for romance and fun to come, so I hope you like it.

Xoraan: Glad you like them. Making the Evil Trio dangerous and worth fearing in this chapter was a personal goal, and it's good to see that I succeeded. It was fun to get into their heads and bring them to life, though I don't recommend staying there; it's not healthy. And yep, an actual date on the horizon for our lovely pair. I'm already looking forward to it, and I'm the one writing it, so I hope you like how things turn out. Always great to hear from you, my friend, and enjoy!

Anon-chan: Great to hear, because I'm excited to show it to you. Hope you like it!

Prince Arjuna: That was where I was going, yeah. I have nothing against Aigis, but for a person with a rational mind, there are a lot of holes and loose ends regarding her story, her involvement with the group, becoming a student, etc., and that's what I wanted to address. Now that it has been addressed, there shouldn't be too many other problems. Except where there will be. But good times ahead. And lots more Strega, that I can promise you. Thanks for reviewing, and hope you like the chapter!

afutureillusion: That's the best part about this fic: always things that people want and even more of what they don't expect. Gotta keep them from getting bored with me, right?

Zelda 355: … I can't believe I did that. I CANNOT believe I did that! I should've picked that up! Or one of my betas, I mean what am I paying them for!? (Leaves the room for a minute) Okay, I'm good now. Thanks for pointing that out, and thanks for reading. This chapter should… well, you tell me how I did, yeah? I think you'll like it.

Some small insider info for this chapter. Most people will be familiar with a kimono and a yukata, so those need no introduction, but the sash that accompanies a yukata or a kimono is called an obi, and geta are the wooden clogs/shoes that we see so often in anime (think Mugen in Samurai Champloo or Urahara in Bleach).

Special thanks to Enact for his insight into the characters and his knowledge in all things Japanese. This fic wouldn't be nearly as good without him.

And because it has to be said, even a bit late, May the 4th be with you, and have a good Revenge of the 5th.

With that, on with the show!

Chapter 9 - Prise de Fer

"Of course, sir," Ikutsuki replied on the phone. "I'll make sure the arrangements are made."

"Make sure that you do," Kirijo-san told him stonily. "I understand that records from ten years ago are hard to find, but I'll accept no further excuses for someone not telling Mitsuru or the rest of the team about details pertinent to the investigation."

"Understood. It won't happen again," Ikutsuki promised with a smile.

"Good." And the line went dead.

Ikutsuki's smile iced over. "A fine day to you as well, sir," he told his empty office quietly before setting the phone receiver back in its cradle, his jawbones pushing against his skin as he clenched his teeth. Damn him. Damn that man. Who did he think he was, addressing Ikutsuki like he was a servant or some mere administrator? The indignity of it galled him, and he had to close his eyes to choke off the anger. It took longer than usual, but he pushed the feelings down and thought of something more productive to do. Ikutsuki leaned back in his chair and swiveled around to look at one of the numerous bookcases.

The contents were what anyone would expect from a historian, as well as a few oddities that had served as perfect conversation pieces. Books on Ancient Greece and Rome from the days of Romulus and Remus right up to the collapse of the Empire, Middle Eastern myths and lore reaching back further than The Crusades, and two entire wall units dedicated to the rise and fall of many of China's dynasties as far back as the Record of the Three Kingdoms.

What was unusual, he knew, was the polished crucifix set on purple velvet with two tall white candles on each side. He'd been asked numerous times if he was religious on account of the icon, and the thought always made him smile. Across the room from the crucifix was the bookshelf that held a polished bronze Buddha, a thick, half-melted red candle on each side and an incense bowl in front of it. Christian or Buddhist, people would ask which he was.

Ikutsuki stood and walked to the Buddha statue, touching the edge of the shelf and inspecting the bronze of the figure and the plates holding the candles for any sign of tarnish. It had been a pursuit in his youth, he remembered, and one that felt so... quaint now. He'd been at the top of his class in school, always striving to match the accomplishments of his brother, Akio, who was almost seven years older than him. When he was in his final year of high school, his brother had graduated from university and been hired by the Nanjo Group, back before the Kirijo separated from them. On a way back from a party function less than six months later, however, his brother had been killed by a drunk farmer in a pick-up truck who ran the light. The others in the car had survived almost untouched, but his brother, sitting at the impact point, had died four days later of his terrible injuries.

His parents were devastated. Ikutsuki drove himself to surpass his already-impossible standards to meet their expectations, but they'd retreated into themselves and his attempts at getting to them went ignored. He went to the most prestigious university he could, burning for an answer. He needed to know why his brother died and no one else had. But his studies had given him no answers, only facts and logic. Counselors had been of no use, telling him to accept that it had been out of anyone's control, and when rational thought failed him, he turned to religion. He explored every facet of Christianity, and that had been even worse. "Do good and the Lord will be thy Shepherd," they'd told him. "God protects his beloved children, no matter where they are or what they have done," had been the answer when he'd pushed further. He'd asked why Akio had died when no one else had, and all they gave him was platitudes. Had Akio sinned when the others hadn't? Was God punishing him for something and killed his brother as a warning? The priests had told him that line of reasoning was misguided, but when he asked why God would let a good, intelligent, compassionate man die while his sake-soaked co-workers only had to live with the hangover the next morning, there was only rhetoric and empty Bible verses. Words to comfort the sheep, an opiate to the dull masses. After months of prayer and searching for answers, he left the church on the words "Keep praying to your God, and tell me if he answers you. I'll find something else that gives me what I need."

Because the Western faiths had failed him, he returned to Japan and sought out answers from the Zen monks at the Kiyomizu temple. Ikutsuki snorted. No, there were no answers there either. Death was a transition, Buddhists taught. One who lived well and followed the tenets of the faith would receive enlightenment. But they hadn't addressed his questions about why death was necessary, or why one had to die before they would know if what they did was enough. And it was easy, Ikutsuki argued, to see death as a gentle or swift thing. But that wasn't how it had been for Akio. Whiplash so strong it had almost broken his neck, shattered ribs and ruptured organs, coughing up blood from punctured lungs and slowly dying from, along with everything else, a nicked appendix the doctors had missed. Blood poisoning, Ikutsuki learned as he stayed with him until the end, was a terrible way to go. And neither Christ nor the Buddha had cared enough to answer, and the thought festered in his mind.

He'd thought he'd reached an answer in the Hindu faith. There was an entire pantheon of gods to provide answers instead of just one, and each god was fluid enough to have a variety of names and aspects. It had seemed like the best choice after the previous two failures. What he'd found, however, was an oppressive system that fed on the same fear as Christianity, but this time it was even more insidious. Instead of one's deeds defining where they went in the afterlife only once, the Hindu priests saw the soul as an immortal thing that was bound to the wheel of reincarnation, and one's sins followed them through their every rebirth until they proved themselves worthy of being released from it. The Indian castes had defined where one went in life, and one was always born where they belonged. Akio, the Hindus had said, died because he was still atoning for crimes and foul deeds committed in a past life, and instead of working with Ikutsuki to treat the matter with some delicacy, they'd bluntly condemned Akio without even knowing what he was like or what he'd suffered before he died. Ikutsuki had left that even, fed up with a religion that demanded that people be sheep or suffer degrading reincarnations for eternity. Again, no answers. And at the time, he didn't have a new direction to go in.

That had all changed when he'd met Kirijo Kouetsu. The man was grasped by a vision of the future so powerful that all who met him could feel its gravity, and few were those who didn't support him. Ikutsuki worked sixty-hour weeks to catch his attention, begging for the chance to work with such a man. And when the Shadow projects began, Ikutsuki learned the man's true objectives: tapping into the power of a being so powerful that it would separate the lions from the sheep in an instant. A being that would answer when called on. The Shadows were the instruments of its will, and that alone was enough to tell him that he was, after 16 years, finally on the right track.

Ikutsuki shivered in the warm room, still remembering the glorious rebirth, the epiphany, that the man's words had inspired in him. More than just the Christians and the Buddhists, none of the religions had it right. Death had been a means to an end to them, whether for judgment or enlightenment or a final grand war. But Kouetsu-sama's vision was the true way of things. He'd explained why Akio had died, and the younger man had turned his back on his false beliefs ever since. Death was never the means to the end. Death was the end. All things died, and that end was glorious in its finality. No afterlife, no ascension, no lies. Only the assurance of the marvelous end that awaited them all. Akio had only died horribly because the doctors had tried to save him. In their misguided foolishness, they'd only prolonged his suffering and kept him from reaching a far, far more perfect end. They should have left him, Ikutsuki knew now, or euthanized him after their parents had been told.

Kouetsu-sama's vision was the right course; he didn't fear death. People feared it the same way sheep feared wolves: afraid because it was their nature, because they never thought beyond it. Kouetsu-sama courted it, understood it, and let nothing, not the Shadows or the children with their half-awakened Personas, get in the way. He sought to make death his, becoming master of the living through his attempts to reach her. And when he came to control death, he would have controlled life. And then everyone would see the truth, that his way was the truth, just as Ikutsuki had come to see it.

Ikutsuki growled under his breath. There was no way that Kouetsu-sama could be wrong, but his ungrateful son and misguided idiot of a granddaughter both failed to see the majesty of the man's vision. Slandering his name and deeds after he died, even having the nerve to protest when he'd still been alive... The thought was infuriating. They saw the lengths he went to as maniacal, his desires as insanity, and it was galling to see so much purpose, to see the truth, dragged through the mud like they... like they understood him. As though their misguided desires and clinging to life would count for anything in the end when all they saw was the same flawed picture that everyone else had. So many blind, ignorant sheep who looked at the visionary and stupidly saw a tyrant to be feared.

Ikutsuki quelled his rising temper. As much as he wanted to shout at the ignorant children who made up SEES, scream at them that they saw so little of the real picture and should be glad to have even known the name Kirijo Kouetsu, it wasn't time for that. Not yet. When Kouetsu-sama died, Ikutsuki had taken the research notes and data and assumed the role of harbinger. The man's desires were too great to be lost because of a foolish mistake. Sheep needed a shepherd, after all, and he wouldn't be able to make Kouetsu-sama's vision a reality without SEES. Until then, he had to wait. Had to prepare and endure their foolishness. And when the night fell forever...

Ikutsuki chuckled, remembering the long discussions with the man he'd given his life to. The experiments on the Shadows, the thrill of their killing potential, and the goal at the end of the tunnel, shining like a star that came closer with every passing night.

He smiled even more when he recalled the destruction of the lab, the fury and death that had consumed almost everyone. So many were simply torn apart by the Shadows, but he was fortunate to see as many details as he did. Kato-san had her right arm and leg crushed to a meaty paste before one of the Shadows kicked her hard enough to send her into the containment room wall, breaking her like a china statue. Sasaki-san's screams sounded like they persisted in the room after a Shadow had raced right through her, sending her innards and shattered spine splattering across the floor. Ine-san and Hayashi-san had been especially memorable, their screams as they burned alive still bringing him shivers that ran from head to heels. And of course, he chuckled, Takeba Eiichiro... there was no way he could forget Takeba-san. Very few men could keep going after a torn-apart window frame, still edged with jagged glass, had been lodged in their face. Fewer still would have been trying to crawl after a blind slash from a Shadow's claws had torn their legs in two at the knees. Struggling and trying to get back to his lab, it had taken him a while to die, and through it all he never screamed. He'd been an admirable show of the beauty of death, second only to Kouetsu-sama: such a sublime end, limbs and head blown from the torso, was enviable beyond measure, and Ikutsuki could only hope that his death would be half as sublime.

When he closed his eyes and let the memories of fire and panic and screams return, he found that could still smell the burning flesh, the charred bodies and the thick, heavy smoke.


"What are you doing?!" a harsh voice snapped, startling her and making her turn to see who it was.

Fuuka blanched when she saw the towering figure in a dark brown coat. She'd been trying to make lunch and was waving the smoke away enough to get to the oven and shut it off, but the water she was boiling had fallen off the stove and spilled on the floor. She'd gone to grab a mop, not wanting to risk handling the dials of an electric oven while standing in water, and he'd come in while she was making a path for herself. The smoke had gone unnoticed by Yukari-san, in the middle of her afternoon shower, and by Ikutsuki-san who was upstairs in his office. The others had gone to the hospital to pick up Minato-kun and Koro-chan. Junpei-kun had offered to change the batteries in the smoke detector earlier that morning, but went with the others to buy the batteries in question when he realized they were out.

That led her to where she was now: trying to clean up her attempt at cooking and facing an irate Shinjiro-senpai, who was waving at the smoke and swearing as he walked over the water and shut off the oven. "I... um... thought I'd make lunch for everyone," she told him, stepping back and feeling useless when he opened the window to vent out the kitchen.

"What were you trying to make?" he snapped, looking at the utensils and remains of her ingredients on the counter. "It smells like burnt rice and pickles in here, and neither of those need an oven."

Fuuka shuffled a bit from foot to foot. The newest addition to SEES, who was more of a returning member and thus carried the same seniority and gravitas as Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai, frightened her more than a little. He never smiled, and took on questions and requests with an obvious annoyance that had scared her off when she'd meant to ask him if he preferred certain foods when she was going shopping. "It's... sorry for the inconvenience," she mumbled, looking at the ground and feeling his glare prickle her skin like an entire tray of small-gauge needles. "Thank you for helping me. I'll clean up now, so you don't have to be here."

Shinjiro-senpai stepped to the side and went quiet. Fuuka bit her lip while she cleaned out the oven and sighed at another failed attempt. This was the sixth one, and while she hadn't set the stove on fire this time, it was hardly a consolation when what used to be raw ingredients came out as a familiar lump of charcoal. She'd tried making something more than simple rice since she was sure that Minato-kun would want more than that, especially after his stay at the hospital, but it hadn't gone according to plan. At all.

She was beginning to wallow in self-pity and lament her ever getting started on this crazy idea when she heard shuffling at the counter where her printouts and Internet recipes were. "Is this what you're going off of?" Shinjiro-senpai asked, holding them up.

Fuuka nodded, tossing the charred lump into the garbage and wiping her hands clean on a dish rag. "I don't know where to start with cookbooks, so those were the best I could do."

His narrow eyes ran down the page before flicking back to her. "Did you check the scales on the recipes when you were printing them off? Like how many people they are supposed to serve? Or which course you're making and when it should go into the oven?"

"Scales?" Fuuka thought it through, off balance at the candid question and his less-unfriendly-than-usual tone."Um, no. I just looked for 'teriyaki beef' and printed off what I could find."

"That explains it," he told her with a sharp sigh. "These're meant for cruise liners, where they marinate everything for hours before they cook them."

She'd heard of marinating, of course. She just wasn't sure which step to start with or what ingredients would go well together, and decided not to tell him that."Oh. Um... Would that make a difference?"

Shinjiro-senpai tapped the papers slowly and steadily, and she couldn't tell if he was getting irritated or if he was trying to make a point. "It would when your times are this off. How long did you have them in the oven?"

"A...a recipe I looked at said for half an hour."

"At a lower temperature," he told her slowly, enunciating each and every syllable. "Marinated and cooked for a longer time at a lower temperature or cooked for less time at a higher temperature, but not both."

Fukka swallowed, feeling her eyes sting at making such a basic mistake. It was bad enough knowing that she was no further ahead than when she'd started, but overlooking something that sounded so simple when someone else explained it made her want to crawl into a hole somewhere. "I... I understand, Senpai. Please excuse me, I'll finish up here if you need the kitchen."

She could feel his glare, which kept her standing in place and almost trembling, but then he sighed. "Help me clean this stuff up," he told her with less broken glass in his voice. "Arisato's coming home soon and he doesn't need to breathe smoke when he's recovering."

Cleaning up. Yes, she could do that. That didn't involve cooking anything, after all. "Of course. Thank you."

The water ran at the sink as he rolled his sleeves up and washed his hands. "And then we're going to do this right."

Fuuka blinked, stopping in place and certain she'd heard him wrong. "I... What? Are you..."

"If you're set on cooking, you need to do it right," he told her as he dried his hands and nodded to the stove. "And you're wasting food by burning it."

She was still sure she'd heard him wrong, or misunderstood what was becoming a very simple conclusion. "But... You're offering to teach me? You know how to cook, Shinjiro-senpai?"

"It's better than you filling the dorm with smoke," he grumbled while putting on a clean apron. It looked pitifully small on his tall, broad frame, almost clinging to him like a frightened child, but she bit her tongue to keep from mentioning it. "With my luck you'll get hungry tonight and burn some popcorn or something instead of just making it. And that smell gets into everything and stays around forever, and then Mitsuru'll get her skirts in a twist and make us clean it up and... Look, just help me out and we'll make something edible, alright?"

Fuuka grinned foolishly and bowed in gratitude so fast that she almost fell over. "I... Yes, Senpai! Thank you."

Shinjiro-senpai grunted and shook his head. "There'll be a tonne of problems if you light the kitchen on fire again, so I'm not doing it for your sake. C'mon, let's get to work."

Fuuka darted around the kitchen, cleaning everything as best she could while Shinjiro-senpai brought out a new package of beef strips. Her role, he made very clear, was to watch and do what he said while taking notes, and unless he stated otherwise, she wasn't to touch anything. The orders were brusque, but his tone was lighter this time, and when she stayed out of his way and observed, he almost seemed to be enjoying himself. Not that he was humming to himself or even smiling like she'd seen from some of the workers at the restaurants, but he seemed much calmer as he moved and worked. Before she knew it, she'd looked up from her notes to see cut peppers and broccoli, thinly-diced carrots and quartered mushrooms next to a marinate bowl that smelled heavenly enough to make her stomach growl.

"No sampling until it's done," he told her as he cooked the accompanying rice. "And don't put too much sauce on it. Teriyaki's nice in small amounts but they can always put more on themselves."

Fuuka nodded, scribbling furiously in her notebook. "I understand."

He gave her a stare, but when her expression didn't change, he grunted and continued cooking the dish. A few minutes later, there was a pristine pot of rice next to a tray of beef strips with the bowl that contained the vegetables, lightly layered in sauce, beside it. "They can dish up themselves when they come back," he told her, handing her a plate of food while making one for himself. "That's how you do it. Don't get carried away next time."

"Thank you for everything, Senpai," she told him, pausing her note-taking to bow again. "I wouldn't have been able to do this without you."

"I told you," he groused as he took off his apron, "I didn't do it for you." The garment was as clean as when it came of the hangar, showing almost no sign he'd worn it in the first place.

"I know, but this way Minato-kun will be able to have something to eat besides hospital food or leftovers when he gets back. That's... That's important to me," she confessed with touch of whimsy.

Her towering teammate gave her a sideways glance. "Important? Why? Got a thing for the guy?"

Fuuka recoiled like he'd jabbed her with live jumper cables. "I– Of course not, Senpai! We're friends, and– You can't just ask a girl that!"

"Akihiko and Junpei said he's pretty popular at school," Shinjiro-senpai continued without missing a stride. "But, whatever. You're denying it pretty fast, aren't you?"

"No, I... that's... it's not like that. Minato-kun risked his life for me in the alleys," she told him with a shiver, hugging herself when she remembered the terror and the closed-in walls, the blood and the terrible wounds. "He's helped me ever since I became part of the group, and after what happened... When I saw his arms... I just want to show him that I appreciate what he did for me. Even just a little. First I thought I'd buy him something, but he's pretty independent, or he just gets what he wants himself, so this is the best that I can do."

He was quiet for a few moments before shrugging. "Well, he'll appreciate this. Because hospital food is pretty disgusting."

"He'll appreciate what you did, you mean," she corrected with a wan smile. "I just caused a mess."

"Tell him you made it," Shinjiro-senpai told her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's easier than trying to make it all on your own, right?"

"I can't do that!" Fuuka protested, aghast. "You did such a wonderful job with this!"

"It's fine," was his short answer. "Don't worry about it."

"But, Senpai, I−"

"Alright, whatever. Just stop shouting," he told her, picking up his plate of food and taking it to the dining room to eat alone.

Fuuka scratched her cheek, unsure how she would handle the reticent and intimidating dorm mate, but she took a small serving for herself and hoped that, even if she wasn't the one who made the food, the others would like it.

As it turned out, the sight of food was welcomed by everyone. Junpei-kun politely let their leader take his share before diving into the meal, and Mitsuru-senpai smiled when she began eating from her place at the table. Both Minato-kun and Junpei-kun showered Fuuka with praise, and whenever she tried to say that it had been Shinjiro-senpai who'd done the work, she got a stare from where he was sitting across the room that was dangerous enough to clamp her mouth shut. Only Akihiko-senpai seemed to notice something different about the dishes, and gave Shinjiro-senpai a look that made the quiet teen turn away.

Minato finished off his plate first, going back for seconds and relishing in the taste of real food instead of a drip line and bland, processed paste, but he moved and ate carefully, not wanting to reveal how sensitive his hands still were. His recovery was regular for a Persona-User, the doctors had told him, and his nerves were sore and itchy as the injuries healed into thin, spider-web scars up and down his hands and arms. But he'd been gritting his teeth with every test and poke since he asked Mitsuru-senpai out to go to the festival, and he knew that if the doctors had any idea how much he still hurt, he'd still be admitted and he would've lost his chance.

It was the first time that he'd ever bucked the rules when it came to medical recommendations, but he needed to prepare for his first date with Mitsuru-senpai, and the first real date he'd been on in as long as he could remember. He'd gone to festivals and parties with classmates before, even if he never got too much into the dancing and drinking, but this was different. As well as he thought he knew her this was new territory for him and Mitsuru-senpai, and while he could admit now that he wanted to be more than comrades with her, getting to that point was, he knew, the real challenge.

"Are you alright?" Mitsuru-senpai asked, appearing at his side and jolting him out of his thoughts like he'd conjured her from the ether.

Minato started a bit, then smiled reassuringly. "Never better, Senpai. Why do you ask?"

"They discharged you earlier than I was expecting," she noted, leaning against the table where he was eating his lunch. "Given what happened, I'm surprised by how much you've recovered."

"I'm still a bit sore," he admitted. Better to let some truth get through than to try and lie completely, especially where she was concerned. "But I should be fine by the time we head to Tartarus again."

She nodded, a sober look to her face. "Or by the next full moon. We'll need everyone ready for that."

Minato nodded in what he hoped was assurance. "We will be."

"I'm glad you're doing better," she told him, slowing her words a little like she was picking them carefully. "It was... different while you were away."

A touch of warmth sparked in his chest. It was the first time in a long while that he'd had someone genuinely concerned about when he was around. At least someone who wasn't being paid to tell him that. "It's good to be back," he told her. "Those hospital beds are hard on the back."

She chuckled, her concern fading into amusement. "I'll make sure the doctors hear about it. Enjoy your meal, Arisato. Yamagishi worked hard at it."

"She did," Minato agreed. "But, Senpai? One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Could... when I'm back to normal, I was wondering if we could have that rematch."

What... what was he saying? He'd meant to thank her, but... well, he had been going over their last duel and practicing to beat her next time, but...

Mitsuru-senpai blinked a few times before understanding sparked in her eyes.

Junpei looked up from inhaling his food nearby, his grin shifting and broken as he kept chewing. "Challenging our senpai? You just got out of the hospital, dude. You in a hurry to go back?"

"I've learned a few things since then," Minato assured them both, finding his centre and trying to sound as confident as he could. "No time like the present, right?"

"You're serious," she commented, her eyes narrowing a little." Iori's right; isn't this a little early to be thinking about a fight?"

"It wouldn't be any time in the next week," Minato assured her. "But I'd like it if we could set some time aside. It's been bugging me, how easily you got me before."

That had the desired effect – a proud smile spread on her face before she could stop it, and she lifted her chin at the challenge. "I see. If you are that determined, then I accept. Make sure you're fit for a fight by then, and we will make the arrangements."

"Thanks, Senpai," he said, getting up to bow. "I appreciate the opportunity."

"Of course," she replied, her smile telling him she thought he was crazy. "If there's nothing else?"

"That's everything. Thanks again."

She nodded and returned to her place on the couch, picking up one of her textbooks. She didn't turn toward him or shoot him any looks, but Minato was pretty sure she was smiling a little more now.

Behind her, Junpei gave him a grin and a wink that was as good as a thumbs-up before he went back to his food.

Minato raised a hand in acknowledgement before letting out a breath that shook a little. That was weird. He hadn't meant to challenge her this soon, and he was shaking a bit at the adrenaline she triggered in him. This on top of his impending date with the very same girl. He needed an edge. He needed information. The festival was only two days away and he wanted to make sure that he had all his bases covered, which meant to talking to their most recent addition. Stop being a baby and just throw the dice. "Shinjiro-senpai," he began. "Akihiko-senpai. Could we talk upstairs?"

Akihiko-senpai nodded while Shinjiro-senpai looked up from where Koromaru was sniffing around his feet, giving a hard stare before reluctantly rising and following when Minato didn't back down.

"What is it?" Akihiko-senpai asked when they were by the window at the end of the hall, just outside Minato's room.

Best to start off professional and keep it relevant, Minato knew. Akihiko-senpai was easy enough to talk to, but the team's newest member would take some work to get to know. "Regarding our nighttime operations, is there anything that needs to change? You two fought together in the past, so can you offer any ideas on how we can improve?"

Akihiko-senpai nodded in understanding before looking at his friend. "How about it? You're good to fight, right?"

"I can look after myself," Shinjiro-senpai told him shortly, closest to the stairs and obviously wanting to be somewhere else. "And I'll fit in with the others when I need to. Don't worry about it."

Minato glanced at Akihiko-senpai, who nodded, then looked back to their newest member. "I understand, but the others would need to get used to you. Yukari and Aigis and Junpei fight differently from what you might be used to, and we need to be ready as a team, not all doing our own thing."

"Junpei could use a practice partner," Akihiko-senpai suggested. "The way he fights is pretty similar to you, and he could benefit from having a proper instructor."

Narrow eyes went cold before he snorted. "Teaching? Are you serious? He doesn't need it. If he's gotten this far, he'll be fine on his own."

"We're in this together, Shinji," Akihiko-senpai told him with iron in his voice. "He's gotten by on what he knows, but none of us can coast as we are. You're in a position to help him and the rest of us, and that's how it is."

Shinjiro-senpai gave a low growl, gritting his teeth as the two locked stares for a few seconds before he let out an annoyed breath. "Fine, I'll talk to him. And Takeba too, if she's going to be covering us."

"I'd appreciate it," Minato told him, catching the tension between the two and unsure how serious Shinjiro-senpai was about it, especially since Akihiko-senpai returned to his usual calm stare. It was strange, but Minato shrugged it off. He was curious, but his senpai's business had nothing to do with him until it did. "Next, do you think that Ken is ready to fight?"

Shinjiro-senpai grimaced and looked away. What was with that reaction? Minato wondered. Did he not like kids?

"He's steady," Akihiko-senpai reported. "He handled himself pretty well before. He could do with some training, but he's strong enough to be part of the team next time we head out."

Minato nodded. He still didn't like the idea of someone that young fighting with them, but if that night had shown him anything, it was that they needed allies to fill the gaps when things went sideways.

"Speaking of the operations and Tartarus," Shinjiro-senpai remarked, turning to face Minato square-on, "I have a few questions. I hear you're leading the team now, but Mitsuru usually handles that. What's changed?"

"She's still in charge overall," Akihiko-senpai replied. "Arisato handles the combat situations, and so far it's been going well for us."

Shinjiro-senpai gave the shorter student a direct stare, like he was sizing him up. "That's unusual, especially given how much overhead she had back then. Why the change? What makes you so special?"

Minato's eye narrowed and he gave a dry little smile. "I'm actually not that special. You know how I found this place? I was looking for some batteries and thought it was a shopping mall, but Yukari pulled her Evoker on me and they made me the boss when I didn't run for cover. Seemed like an easy job when they gave me the brochure, and I needed the money, you know?"

Shinjiro-senpai's lips turned up in a dry smirk. "That's funny. You're a funny guy. How long have you been in charge?"

"Long enough to have a flying puddle of claws try to take my face off," Minato noted. "So, honestly? About two weeks."

"You're doing better than I did," Shinjiro-senpai told him, his smirk becoming a cold, teeth-baring grin. "I had a living closet try to eat me the second time I used my Evoker."

"Were you fighting on a moving train at the time?"

"A furniture store, actually. An entire department came to life and tried to rip us apart, and that was before we got where they kept the saw blades and the nails and screws."

"That'll do, you two," Akihiko-senpai told them, a stern look offset by an upturn to his lips.

Minato shrugged. "Alright, since I got here in April."

"She put some puppy in charge?" the punk snorted, looking at his friend as his humour dried up. "The newest guy she could find? I get that she was hard up, but that's scraping the bottom of the barrel."

Minato's hackles rose a little, and he could feel the same from Akihiko-senpai. "You weren't here to help us out, Shinji," the boxer told his friend shortly. "And you don't know what we went through. Arisato was a strange choice at the time, but he's worked out better than we could have hoped."

Shinjiro-senpai stared for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, she knows what she's doing if you haven't gotten anyone killed yet, so you must be lucky enough if you're still here."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Minato replied with a smile. "I really mean that. Could I get that in writing? Something pretty and formal that I can frame in my room?"

"Would a broken cinderblock do trick?"

"That's too bulky," Minato noted, "and it would look weird if I carried it to a job interview."

"Then no, you can't." Shinjiro-senpai turned to leave, glancing back over his shoulder. "Is there anything else?"

Minato raised a hand, his smile settling down to a straight line."There is, actually, since you two are here. It's on a bit more of a personal note."

Akihiko-senpai tilted his head in curiosity, his ire with his friend pushed aside for the moment. "Both of us? What do you need?"

"I don't do personal," the other teen groused with a darkening look. "Go talk to the girls if you need some help with your feelings."

"I'm curious about Mitsuru-senpai," Minato admitted, ignoring Shinjiro-senpai's bait. "We have a little tradition that started a while ago that involves us going out for lunch sometimes, and she was wearing a t-shirt last time and said that it was because she lost a bet. I feel like you two might know about it. What was the bet and how did it happen?"

"Seriously?" Shinjiro-senpai snorted in surprise. "You want to know that?"

"Yes, I do."

"Wait," Akihiko-senpai commented, a look of recognition in his eyes. "Was it that Ajisen Ramen shirt? Bright yellow with a logo on it?"

"That's the one," Minato confirmed.

"A lot of what Mitsuru keep to herself has nothing to do with us," Shinjiro-senpai told him brusquely. "She keeps a lot to herself because she's in an important position here, and that means that a lot of that shit that should come down on us ends up somewhere else. Honestly, why do you want to know more about her? It won't help when we're in the field."

"I'm her secretary at school," Minato pointed out. "She had some questions that can't be answered in one or two words, and it's my job to help her out when she wants to know something."

Shinjiro-senpai's stare sharpened, and he turned to fully address the shorter student. "No, it isn't," he replied slowly, a canny understanding growing in his eyes. "Your job is to do paperwork and free up her schedule from the small stuff. And if you're the team leader here, then her personal life doesn't factor in, either. So why do you really want to know?"

"Shinji," Akihiko-senpai began, taking a step forward. "Go easy on–"

Shinjiro-senpai held up a hand, his upraised forefinger commanding silence. "I'm curious why you want to know, Arisato," he continued, stepping up to the team leader. "Why do you care so much?"

Minato looked him in the eye, not budging on the matter. "Because she's asked me to help her learn new things," he explained, "and if I know more about her, then I can help her in ways I wouldn't be able to otherwise."

"So it's all work for you," Shinjiro-senpai noted, his eyes showing that he didn't believe it. "Nothing personal to it. Just you doing your job, huh? Then why ask her for that rematch? There are other people you can spar with, out in town if not at school."

Minato swore at himself. He hadn't expected to get cornered like this, especially not when the only thing that he could do at this point was either admit that the resident redhead was more than a friend or a senpai to him, or lie and say that she was just his boss. And he wasn't about to do either. "That's my business, Senpai," he replied after a moment. "I'd like your help if I can get it."

"Asking about her gets people into trouble," Shinjiro-senpai noted. "Mostly because they get in her way. They think they can help her and they end up pushing her when it's really none of their business what she does or how she is. If you're smart, you'll keep things on the level."

"Thanks for the advice," Minato replied, his tine hardening, "but I'd like an answer to my question. What is the history behind that shirt?"

"It's a shirt," was the answer, accompanied by a shrug. "What makes you think there's any history behind it? Maybe she has a thing for ramen shirts and you just don't know about it."

Minato twitched. Their newest addition had just beaten him at his own game, showing he knew the truth while treating it like a worm on a hook. And while Minato could admit to being attracted to Mitsuru-senpai, he wasn't about to say it to anyone else. "An answer, Senpai?"

"Akihiko was there, so he can tell you." Shinjiro-senpai turned back towards the stairs and headed toward them without excusing himself or waiting for a response.

"Hold on, Shinji," Akihiko-senpai called after him. "If I'm telling him about the shirt, you have to pitch in on something different."

That got a growl and a glare from him. "Whose side are you on here, Aki?"

"Cut the crap," the boxer shot back. "It's not about sides, so just answer the question."

"...Al-right," Shinjiro-senpai spat out in a long, frustrated exhale. "She has a sword collection and rides a motorcycle that costs more than an upscale apartment."

"I've seen it already," Minato informed him. "She showed it to us a few times when we were starting out in April, and last time we went out, she let me ride it with her."

Evidently that was a big deal, because Shinjiro-senpai blinked and gave him another calculating stare. "Ride on it? You." He snorted in obvious disbelief. "Yeah, funny guy, keep it up."

Minato smirked to himself. Let Shinjiro-senpai believe what he wanted; that way Minato could keep what she looked like in her leathers to himself. "Anyway, I already know about that. What else is there?"

The delinquent's eyes narrowed a bit as he frowned. "Do you know what her Evoker says? The three of us have inscriptions on them, and it seems like you guys do too."

Minato perked up a bit. He hadn't forgotten about that, and he was still looking for a way to ask her. "I've asked about it, but she hasn't told me."

"Shinji..." Akihiko-senpai warned.

"I know. I wasn't going to say anything. That's for her to do, I was just curious."

Minato knew it was a special topic for her, but his curiosity wouldn't let him keep his mouth shut. "Is there something I should know?"

"Just that it's personal to her," Shinjiro-senpai dismissed with a shrug and a bored look on his face. "Ikutsuki came up with phrases that seem to symbolize us or something, but she had someone else engrave hers. It was special to her, so she's different from us in that sense."

"I see." Minato didn't, and he was no closer to an answer than he was before, but he would let it slide for now.

Shinjiro-senpai turned toward the stairs again. "Well, that's enough on that."

"Actually, no it isn't," Minato corrected him firmly. "You've only told me that her Evoker's a personal topic, but I got that after the first month of being here."

Rather than irritation or growing anger, the words got him a steady, analytical stare again. "Why do you want to know?"

Minato barely blinked, but he felt his features ice over. He knew that his humour wasn't going to work this time, so he decided to change tactics. "I already told you that: she asked for my help with something and this gives me more perspective."

Shinjiro-senpai wasn't buying the evasion if his growing smirk was any indication. "But why do you really want to know?"

"You think there's more to it than that?"

Akihiko-senpai let out a disgusted sigh. "Just answer the question, Shinji."

The tall teen stared for a long few moments, his mind's gears turning for a few seconds before he gave an audibly annoyed sigh. "Fine. Something about her that's personal and not too private. Mitsuru's got a soft spot for glass art. Not the expensive crystal stuff, but glass pieces like what you see in gift shops and tourist traps. For some reason, she spent a lot of time looking into stores like that when she had free time."

Minato blinked. Glass art? Statuettes of pets and people? That was... Well, he never would have guessed it. She seemed the sort to like crystal decorations, or maybe a classy addition to her sword. But then, he reminded himself, this was the same girl who asked him to take her to fast-food restaurants while wearing a bikini that made her look better than the models in those pin-up magazines that Junpei kept bringing home, and she did it without a hint of reservation. Liking girly little baubles like that was actually, when he thought about it, pretty normal.

"So it's like that, is it?" Shinjiro-senpai's question was accompanied by a knowing look in those hard, dark eyes.

Minato blinked, testing the waters before he gave anything away. "What's like that?"

"Why you're interested," the teen elaborated with a satisfied tone. "Why you're asking these questions."

Any denial he came up with would have been seen immediately. Minato didn't like how Shinjiro-senpai had seen this much into him, but he wasn't going to insult Mitsuru-senpai by lying. "It might be, yeah." Minato shivered a bit at the implications in those words, fully accepting that he was going forward with this and that it was too late to back out now.

Shinjiro-senpai seemed to have picked up on some of that, and appeared satisfied without digging any deeper. "...Hmph. Well, whatever. I'm done." He turned and walked away, his stride making it clear that he wasn't going to stop this time.

Akihiko-senpai shook his head and gave a small sigh. "That guy..." he murmured as he watched his friend.

Minato turned to Gekkoukan's star boxer, all the more curious and glad that his feelings weren't being exposed as much. "What's the story behind the t-shirt, Senpai?"

Akihiko-senpai chuckled, walking over to the wall to turn around and lean against it. "It's old history," he began. "Back when we started working with Mitsuru, we had a lot of differences to work out. She's rich and grew up around board directors and business managers, and the two of us were pretty average. Even then, Shinji was pretty hard to get to know, and she knew less about how normal people lived than she does now. The divide in our backgrounds made it hard, but she always tried to make things easier for us, and spared no expense to make us comfortable. One night, she took us out to this restaurant she liked as a way to break the ice, and Shinji had a few things to say about the serving sizes and the food in general."

Minato blinked, trying to associate Shinjiro-senpai with picky eating and feeling like he was dividing by zero. "Is he that picky?"

"Not picky, really. Just that he knew food even back then, and could cook better with less than most cooks I know can make with whatever they want." The older teen chucked and leaned closer. "He'll never admit this, but he learned to cook because the orphanage we lived at didn't have a lot of food to offer us. We'd go out and get what we could from vendors or begging on the streets, then he'd make the best meals he could to keep everyone fed and warm. We could never get much, but he always made it work. The other kids loved him for it, especially the younger ones. Anyway, he and Mitsuru got into an argument over it because he felt like the price she paid for us to eat there was too high, and she felt like he was blowing her off for being nice. She told him that if he could do it better, then she wanted to see it. And because she was pretty headstrong back then, she said she'd make the same menu dishes we'd had and see what he could do."

Minato knew that Akihiko-senpai had been orphaned at a young age, but it was strange to hear him talk about it. Even more so because hearing about the three when they were younger was oddly surreal, especially because it all sounded so normal. "Wait... so Mitsuru-senpai challenged Shinjiro-senpai to a cooking contest because he talked badly about her favourite restaurant?"

"Exactly," Akihiko-senpai chuckled. "She had the bit in her teeth and wouldn't listen to me when I tried to warn her. Shinji was the same, and I had to be the judge of the food they were making, but I felt like it would be a good learning experience for everyone if we made a wager."

It was starting to come together, and she didn't seem particularly ashamed when he saw her wearing it so the memories must have been fond ones. Or became that way with age and experience. "She had to wear the shirt a few times every year if she lost, right?"

"We thought she'd back out when we came up with the idea," Akihiko-senpai admitted. "Mitsuru wasn't a t-shirt kind of girl back then, and almost everyone would say that she isn't even now. Didn't even slow her down though, and she put a lot of time and effort into trying to beat him. You should have heard some of their arguments back then."

Minato truly wished that he had. "Why is that?"

"Shinji picked out the shirt because he wanted her to wear something that had the advertising for what he called a "proper restaurant with decent food" on it." The boxer laughed at Minato's disbelieving expression. "I'm not kidding; he really said that to her face. It fired her up to win even more. When he beat her, he offered to take her out to have some ramen, but she was a bit sour after losing and wouldn't budge."

The image of a blushing, angry, younger Mitsuru-senpai stomping her foot while her hands were set on her hips came to mind, and Minato chuckled at the thought. "She shot him down."

"Every single time," Akihiko-senpai confirmed, "and she was pretty loud about it. She'd yell, and she did yell instead of just tell us, that there was no way she'd try ramen since it couldn't have been as good as other food."

Minato shook his head. That didn't sound like Mitsuru-senpai at all, but it left him feeling honestly envious that he'd never had the chance to see her with so much youthful fire. "She's sure changed then. If you made the wager, then what did she want in return?"

The boxer chuckled, covering his mouth with a hand. "That was the hardest part of the contest, actually. First she suggested something menial like sharpening her sword collection or washing her motorcycle for a month, but we were trying to keep things friendly, so she said we had to buy her some of the glass art pieces she was looking for. She wanted two pieces from each of us."

Minato nodded in understanding. "That's why Shinjiro-senpai knows about them."

"The fact that you saw her wearing the t-shirt should tell you who won the contest," Akihiko-senpai finished. "Mitsuru did a hell of a job and studied the recipes for days, but she was working from a set of numbers and measurements the whole time. Shinji only uses recipes until he's memorized them, then he makes his own changes and operates on instinct."

Minato nodded to himself. That sounded like Mitsuru-senpai, doing her homework on something before trying it, but missing a step if it wasn't in the book somewhere. Shinjiro-senpai on the other hand... "That sounds pretty deep when you put it in that kind of context. I wouldn't think he'd be that into cooking, or have such an intuitive way of doing it."

"Everyone says that," Akihiko-senpai commented. "They see a big guy with long hair and think they have him pegged, and he's never bothered to take the time to prove them wrong. I'm working with him, but he's pretty stubborn."

There was a hint of something in the teen's voice, and Minato tilted his head and followed his intuition. "You respect him a lot, don't you Senpai?"

Akihiko-senpai chuckled. "It's more than that, but we've talked enough about this. Did you get your answers?"

It seemed the time for personal talks had hit its expiration point. "I did. Thanks for the help," Minato told him with a bow.

"Any time." The boxer gave him a direct stare, glancing down at his hands. "You're feeling better? They released you earlier than I expected."

"I'm fine," Minato assured him, working to keep his expression level. "Ready for whatever they throw at us next."

That earned him an even longer stare, then a shrug. "Well, take it easy. If we run into those guys again, we'll all need to be ready."

No kidding. Minato was still having trouble sleeping at the thought of that flayed Persona hanging in mid-air. "I agree."

Akihiko-senpai took a deep breath before pushing off the wall. "I'm going to go and see if there's any food left. And make sure Junpei doesn't get too carried away if he hasn't heard the news yet; Shinji doesn't spar much, so he might not hold back."

"I look forward to working with him." Minato was being serious. Despite the older teen's rough edges and cold demeanor, it was becoming clear that there was a lot going on under the surface, and a lot less of it was bad than he showed.

"Yeah." There was a wistful tone in Akihiko-senpai's voice. "And I think he needs this. I'd appreciate it if you could help him if he needs it, or if I can't be there."

"Of course, Senpai. I'll do what I can."

"Thanks, and good luck with everything."

Minato nodded his thanks as Akihiko-senpai headed downstairs, then turned to the window and stared outside as he went through everything he'd learned. Mitsuru-senpai in a cooking contest? He remembered the pictures on Kirijo-san's desk back in Yakushima and how one of them showed her with her hair in pigtails. Minato pictured her like that, probably in an apron as she worked around the kitchen, her brow furrowed as she got into a small pout while she concentrated on whatever was in front of her.

He smiled, stroking his cheek with a thumb and brushing against his upturned lips. A mystery indeed, but now he had something to go on for the festival. He just had to make sure his fledgling plans went off without a hitch, a thought that made him wince when his fingers bumped against his cheekbone and send cold, sharp needles of pain running through his hands and forearms. He also had to focus on healing properly and not tipping anyone off to how much they still hurt. Minato started toward the stairs, chuckling at the enthusiastic "HELL YEAH!" from Junpei in the lobby, making his plans and preparing contingencies for the upcoming festival as meticulously as he would if he was gearing up to fight a Shadow.


Planning for the event, however, only got one so far. Real life and the human element had plenty of ways of throwing a wrench in the works with the delicacy of a curb stomp when they wanted to.

Perhaps that was a bit much, Minato thought as he threaded his fingers together, hissing at the dull pain and resisting the urge to adjust his sash again. Junpei, Akihiko-senpai, Shinjiro-senpai and Ken were talking nearby, every now and again giving him an amused look, particularly since they were dressed in their normal summer clothes while Minato had opted to wear a yukata with curving white lines across the indigo fabric. When he thought of the ramifications of being the one to ask the girl out, he decided to dig into his closet and dress up for the occasion. He hadn't had much inclination to wear it before, but he had to admit that he didn't feel as stupid in it as he thought he might. He was even doing much better in his geta compared to the first time he'd tried wearing them, and he didn't feel quite as short now.

"Seriously Senpai, you have to do something with your fans over there," Junpei was saying to the silver-haired boxer, nodding at a group of schoolgirls, all around their age, who were whispering and pointing and waving when they got the chance.

Akihiko-senpai sighed and shook his head. "I told you before, I don't even know them. What am I supposed to do with a girl if I can't even remember her name?"

"They'd probably find it pretty sexy, Senpai," Minato told him with a smile. "The girls at school haven't stopped talking about you since the semester started."

"The same could be said about you," came the reply with a raised eyebrow. "Out of all of us, you're the most likely to get the stares, don't you think?"

"Most of the guys in my grade still hate me," Minato pointed out with a dry smile. " I've given up on keeping my shoes at school these days, and no girl's going to make herself a target like that. Especially not when they think I'm going out with Mitsuru-senpai and Yukari at the same time."

"You never know," Shinjiro-senpai noted with a smirk. "Some women like the competition. Maybe there'll be a challenge over you after tonight."

"I'll take your word for it on that one, Senpai," Minato said, glad for the distraction. Exchanging banter was a good way to keep his nerves under control. He thought of the more memorable festivals he'd gone to when he was younger, particularly the ones 'Nako had taken him to when their parents were working. The games, the food, the way she'd run along the stalls, and–

He frowned, narrowing his eyes. Something was off with the memory. He could see Minako with her wavy auburn hair in braids easily enough, and he remembered her running along the stalls with candy apples and yakitori sticks and turning to him in mid-stride to call him over, but he couldn't feel her happiness like he'd been able to before. He could remember her calling him, the enormous smile on her face and the sparrow-themed yukata she was wearing, but... why did she feel so far away? Why did the vendors waver like a reflection on a lake, while the music he knew by heart was muffled as though he was drowning in the lake in question? The details of the memory flattened when he focused on them, like a distorted photo tilted at the wrong angle.

He shook his head, trying to get past the smooth, cold feeling on his mind, like he was watching the scene while on the other side of soundproof glass. It wasn't right, he knew, and he gritted his teeth when the thought of someone or something toying with his mind. The Shadow in the love hotel had been enough, but this felt... different. His head was clear instead of cloudy, but where was it coming from?

"And we're not going on a mission to pick up girls this time," Akihiko was saying to Junpei when Minato came out of his reverie. "Once was enough and that last one... That's not happening again."

"I gotcha, Senpai. No worries about that," Junpei assured them.

Akihiko-senpai looked skeptical. Understandably so. "...Okay, now I'm worried. What have you got in mind now?"

"Nothing." Junpei held up a hand when the look continued. "Honestly, nothing. I wasn't planning on it."

Minato stepped a little closer, intrigued by the conversation. He'd also been expecting that someone would need to rein Junpei in at some point this evening, so to learn that it wouldn't be necessary was a surprise. "That's unexpected. Mind if I ask why?"

"That's... Well, that's personal. A gentleman never tells, you know?" Junpei sounded smooth for the most part, but there was a blush on his cheeks that spoke for him.

Minato blinked before a smile turned his lips up a bit. "I see. I'm glad."

Ken looked between them, clearly confused, Akihiko-senpai's stare got harder, the details having slipped past him, and Shinjiro-senpai grunted in a tone that sounded like a chuckle. Junpei scratched the back of his neck, laughing a bit nervously as the silence drew out.

"Sorry for the wait!" they heard Fuuka call.

Minato took a bracing breath, trying to calm his heart down after it lurched in his chest and his pulse began to race.

"We had to make sure that everything was alright with Aigis," Yukari added. "This was too good a chance to pass up for her to get out and mingle, you know?"

Minato went over everything he'd planned before turning to face the girls as they arrived. The memory and the strangeness were definitely troubling, but they were things he'd need to talk to Igor and Elizabeth about the next time he saw them. Right now, he had something more pressing to focus on.

Yukari was at the forefront in a checkered white and pink yukata with flower patterns and a yellow obi. To no surprise, her hair looked freshly washed and her neck was graced with her trademark heart choker. "Thanks for waiting, everyone. It took a bit– Whoa, Minato-kun, you look good like that! Is that new?"

Minato smiled as best he could while pushing down the butterflies in his stomach. He stepped forward to greet them, his geta clicking against the cobblestones and slapping against the soles and heels of his bare feet. "You do too, Yukari. But this is just something I picked up a while back."

"But the colour works with your hair," Fuuka insisted as she stepped forward in her yukata, blue with sunflower designs across the fabric. "I wouldn't be able to wear something that dark, but you really pull it off well. Did you pick it out yourself?"

"Sort of," he admitted, trying to find his stride amidst the rising nervousness. "My sister always pushed me to get yukata in this colour whenever we went out, so it seemed like the obvious decision to make."

"If the intent of your attire is camouflage," Aigis began, wearing a blue yukata with flowers embroidered across the front and sleeves that made her look surprisingly normal, "then I must say, respectfully, that it doesn't succeed in its intended purpose. You are distinctive in those clothes, Minato-san, when compared to the others I have seen so far. I predict an 18% probability of blending in with such clothes."

"They're decorative," Yukari chuckled, "like the masks that the stalls will be handing out. We're not here to work, remember?"

"Hey, Yuka-tan!" Junpei called as he approached with the others. "Glad you could make it. Isn't this too early for 'fashionably late'?"

Yukari rolled her eyes but had a friendly smile on her face when she saw the other guys. "Yeah, thanks Junpei. I didn't think you'd dress up."

Their comrade shrugged with a grin, any signs of his previous unease nowhere in sight. "Nah, we decided to let the boss stand out and look his best. I wouldn't want to steal his thunder."

"That's generous of you," Mitsuru-senpai told him from behind the girls, stepping forward to the middle of the group.

Minato blinked and, in a second, felt so light that he could have been pushed over with a light sneeze.

Mitsuru-senpai had opted for a cream-coloured yukata, decorated with lilacs, and the light shades set off the pine-green of her obi, and rather than her usual boots, she was wearing light pine geta with white straps embroidered with lavender thread. Minato stared, unknowing and uncaring how it might have been see as impolite, because he'd never have guessed that Kirijo Mitsuru had such cute feet. Foregoing the customary thick socks, probably on account of the temperature, Mitsuru-senpai was wearing her geta barefoot, and, completely against his expectations, her toenails were even painted a matching lavender to the lilacs on her yukata.

"I agree with Takeba and Yamagishi, Arisato," she continued, sounding a bit softer than usual. "You look quite handsome like that."

Shaking himself out of his trance, Minato looked up to face her, about to return the greeting, and froze again. Her hair, so often covering one side of her face like a mirror to his own, was back and tied up into a bun with a few stray locks falling down along her cheeks. The hairpin holding it all together was, no surprise now, in the shape of a finely made lavender flower with petals on thin chains swaying in the evening wind. She was even wearing lipstick, he noted with growing disbelief: a bright, distinct red that suited her fair skin perfectly and made her lips look like a little ruby bow. A breeze passed them and brought her perfume to his senses, both her usual cinnamon and spice with something more lively but still understated. Everything before him blended together to create an image that made her seem like a completely different person from the executive's daughter he'd met when he'd arrived in April, or even from the team leader he'd stopped to talk to at the train station in May. "Th-thanks, Senpai," he replied, careful not to stutter or trip up too much. "You look really great too."

She smiled and blushed a bit, walking over to him with quieter click-slaps compared to him, making him think that everything about her was softer tonight. Which didn't, the logical side of his brain intervened almost accusingly, change the fact that she was still taller than he was.

"Well, since we're all here," Akihiko-senpai announced as he walked up, "it makes sense to have as much fun as we can. Games, food, anything goes. Anyone have any questions?"

Aigis raised her hand. "I have a number of inquiries regarding the purpose of the activities here. I hope that will not be a problem and hinder the others."

Yukari laughed cheerily and held a hand out to the stand with the animal masks. "We'll help you out with that. Let's go. We have to start somewhere, right?"

When she and Fuuka walked with Ken and Aigis in one direction, Junpei whistled and stepped back and forth, playing with Koromaru who barked happily, more energetic than usual on account of being back at his old home, and the two joined Akihiko-senpai and Shinjiro-senpai as they headed toward the ramen stand.

Minato steadied his breathing and cleared his throat. He was, after all, now alone with Mitsuru-senpai. "Well, what would you like to do, Senpai?"

She turned to him, her hands and arms close to her body. "I'm not sure. I haven't had the chance to attend a festival for the sake of enjoyment since my mother took me to one when I was quite young."

"Ah... right." Minato scratched his head, his palms going clammy as he felt the very first scene of the date starting on rocky feet. They were alone and he was realizing, with mounting horror, that he couldn't remember what he was going to do with her. Where were his plans? All those ideas he'd been reciting for the last two days? Why did they have to abandon him now?!

He looked at her when he felt her hand on his arm, her smile going from amused to assuring. "It's alright. Take your time. And this might be rather unfair of me, but since you asked me out, I'd like to do whatever you have in mind. I imagine you have been to more of these events than I have so I trust that you will make it a memorable night."

No pressure, Minato thought to himself, but with the expectations came a measure of comfort, not to mention the smile that spread his face at how much trust she was putting in him. Just like in the field. Like a mission where his objective was making her have as much fun as he could. Alright, he could do this. "I see. That will work nicely. Have you eaten yet? Fair food is always pretty good, and... now that I think about it, Senpai, you were busy with Student Council meetings today, weren't you? Did you have time to eat?"

She looked down for a moment and covered her stomach with her hands, blushing a little. Minato tilted his head to the side. Had her stomach started growling? He didn't hear anything. "I didn't... eat all of it, no," she admitted, looking a little abashed. "There were a number of concerns to address, and I wanted to make sure that they were all taken care of before I left school."

"I see." He tried to keep his face straight, but there was no suppressing the fierce surge of joy and satisfaction at her words. "I hope that you won't make a habit of it then," he continued, taking on his role as her assistant, if for only a moment.

She shook her head, the flower pin in her hair catching the light from the festival and reflecting it back at him. "I won't, but I wanted to... make sure that nothing interrupted us, and that meant completing everything today."

Her words made his heart skip a few times before he found his center and smiled to her. "Thanks for doing that, Senpai. If it's alright with you, that will be our first destination, and we can try the other food stalls as we go if you want. Fair food's kind of a style of its own, actually, so you can think of it as part of our lessons, if you want."

She chuckled lightly, her smile lighting up her face by a few degrees as the blushed died off a little. "Recreational and educational. I approve, Arisato-sensei."

Minato barked a quick laugh. "I don't think anyone will call me that for a while. But, shall we? There's an okonomiyaki stand just over there." He led her over to the stall, admiring her graceful steps and poise. "Excuse me," he told the chef behind the counter. "Two orders of Kansai-style okonomiyaki, please."

"Not a problem, youngster!" was the immediate, heavily accented reply. "How'd you and yer lady like em?"

Smiling at the familiar Osaka lingo, Minato turned to his date. "He's asking what you'd like on yours, Senpai. Anything that you see on the counter is an option."

The Kirijo heiress looked over the menu thoughtfully. "Hm... I understand that there will be sauce to go along with this? Regardless of what I choose?"

"That's right, missy! Best sauce on this side a' Osaka!"

In spite of the heavenly smells coming from the stall and how hungry she had to be, she tilted her head in curiosity. "What sorts of things would you recommend?"

"Well a'now, if yer feelin' adventurous, I kin recommend somethin' a mite hotter than yer standard local fare."

Minato's eyes widened a little. "You might want to be careful there, Senpai," he warned. "Some of the things they put in their sauces don't go well with spices."

One of her eyebrows raised alongside her curiosity. "Isn't that the point of experimenting, Arisato?"

"Not when you end up regretting it in the morning, no." He remembered with a grimace the first time he'd taken his sister up on trying to eat more spicy food than she could. Neither of them had been able to go to school for two days after that.

"Aww, she ain't got nothin' ta worry about!" the vendor assured them. "Here're th' spices I got in th' back, missy. Take a gander!"

"Hmm..." she mused. "I know that wasabi's on the hot side, but I've never heard of harissa before. And isn't sriracha supposed to be rather mild?"

"Ye'll never know until ye try, missy!"

She looked satisfied, prepared to take on the challenge. "Hmm... It would be an experience, wouldn't it? In that case–"

"Senpai," Minato interrupted soberly. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that."

The look of disbelief on her face was priceless, and hardened a bit when she registered what he'd just said to her. "I... You can't let me?"

"That's right," he told her without giving an inch. He knew he was pushing it, giving the Kirijo president's daughter orders, but he'd risk her wrath now instead of living with her misgivings the next morning. "Unless you're used to having the top of your mouth blown off, I very strongly suggest you try something milder. Or without any spices."

She looked at him, looking like she was about to argue, then she settled back with a small smile. "Are you exercising your right as my sensei in this matter?"

"If I have to, yes. I'd hate for you to regret it later, and that much spice is something I can very much see you regretting."

Mitsuru-senpai stared at him for a moment, weighing the odds in her eyes before she nodded. "I see. Then I'll trust your judgment in this. I'd like something with a strong flavour, though. What do you recommend?"

Minato went over the ingredients and decided on something that had some kick to it but wouldn't haunt her the next day. "In my case," he continued, "I'll have something mild. Salmon roe and seaweed with mayonnaise and extra ketchup, please."

"Comin' right up!"

"Mayonnaise and extra ketchup?" Mitsuru-senpai asked him, her tone conversational instead of direct. "That sounds a bit different."

"Minako's tastes wore off on me a bit," Minato chuckled, suppressing his unease about that unusual memory and enjoying the moment and the smells of their food being prepared. "She'd have the craziest things on her food, but whatever she got always tasted good. No one I knew then or know now has that gift."

"She brought you to festivals?"

He nodded. "All the time. I have no idea how she found the time between school and homework and all the friends she had, but every time there was a festival to go to, even if it was in the next town over, she made sure we went."

"She sounds like she was a wonderful person," his senpai told him with a wistful tone and a far-off look. "I've thought of what my life would have been like if I'd had a sister. Or a brother, when I think about it."

Minato decided to keep a few of the things 'Nako had done to him in their youth, things he'd never really forgiven her for, to himself. "You would have liked her, I think. She loved doing things with people and for them, even when she didn't have much to do directly with what was going on. Which reminds me, Senpai, I didn't know that you painted your toenails."

That got a small laugh out of her. "Ahh... I didn't. Takeba and Yamagishi found out about this and insisted that they help me with my clothes and preparations."

Minato chuckled, imagining how that must have gone. The girls had been enamoured with Mitsuru-senpai's swimsuit at Yakushima, so that they jumped in when she was going on a date was no surprise. "That sounds like them."

"It was unusual," she continued, "but I am grateful. Takeba found the perfect accessories to go along with my yukata and Yamagishi, well, I wasn't expecting her to know very much about painting nails, but she was very insistent that she get the shade just right."

"Was the lipstick her idea too? I've never seen you wear that colour before." She'd worn lipstick pretty regularly before, Minato knew, when she was holding meetings or meeting with officials and businessmen, otherwise she just wore lip gloss in class. This was different, however, and seeing her try something outside the norm was a welcome surprise.

"Yes," she chuckled, "and she wouldn't let me go until we found something she liked. She was very insistent."

"It suits you. I mean, you look really good." Not his smoothest line, but she seemed happy that he'd noticed the attention that had gone into her attire.

Her smile widened. "You said that already. But thank you. I don't feel like I get to do this often enough, and I'm having fun so far."

"Order's up! Here' ye go, young'uns!"

Minato paid the man and brought the food to her. He could smell the sauce and the kick that her order had, and indulged in his own dish.

He'd been worried, for a moment, about any food that she couldn't finish. Leftovers during a festival were a bit of a pain when they got to the toys and the games and started carrying their spoils around, so he was left wondering if Mitsuru-senpai would be able to handle her food.

His fears were proven unfounded four seconds later when, with a remarkable amount of dignity, she'd already wolfed down half her okonomiyaki. The way she ate was clean and precise, yet it was clear that going the day without food had made her more than ready for what the festival had to offer.

"Are you not hungry?" she asked when she was almost finished, noting his slower eating speed. Evidently, she was unaware of how cute a girl could look when she was dressed up and looked perfect while hovering over her food, lips back a bit to show her teeth.

"I like to pace myself and enjoy it," he replied with a smile, cursing at himself for getting caught. His hands were flaring up in pain and even holding his food was a trial. "Shall we try the masks next?" he continued, shifting the attention back to their date as he fought off the feeling of broken glass being jammed into his muscles and finished his food quickly. "They make good souvenirs."

Mitsuru-senpai nodded once she finished her okonomiyaki. "I'd like that. Lead on."

They went to the mask stall, hearing the cheerful barks of Koromaru and the laughing children running with him to play. Aside from that though, they didn't encounter any of the others, though Minato was sure that he saw Kenji talking to some older women by the offering box, and Yuko was dressed in her usual sports clothes and kneeling by the koi pond, a few chattering girls nearby who stopped talking and started staring when they saw him and Mitsuru-senpai together. Minato turned and ignored them, fervently pushing down the thoughts of what the rumour mill would be like when he went to class on Monday. "What is the custom with the masks, Arisato?" his date asked as they looked over the impressive selection. "Are they meant to ward away spirits?"

Minato shook his head. It made sense that she'd think that since she was looking at the tengu mask. "Not really. It's more of a thing that people do to make the night memorable. If there's one that you want to have, then that's what you get, and you can wear it to the next festival or get new ones each time."

"Memorable," she mused before looking at him. "So does that mean we will pick masks for each other? That seems like the best way to make the might worth remembering."

"I..." He faltered and stopped. He hadn't thought of that, but it was a far better idea than what he was going to go with. "Yeah," he told her a few seconds later. "We can do that if you want."

"I would like that. Which mask do you think suits me, Arisato?"

Minato smiled, becoming more and more convinced that she was doing this on purpose. Putting him in the lead, making him make the decisions, it was like she was testing him every step of the way and seeing how he would perform under pressure. And now she was asking for a token of what he thought of her. Smart girl, he thought with more than a hint of admiration. His competitive instincts kicked in, responding to the challenge she was ever-so-tacitly offering. "This one," he told her as he pointed.

She blinked at his choice. "Is that... a bird?"

"An owl, actually."

She tilted her head to the side, a wry smile curling her lips up at the corners. "Aside from the obvious association with wisdom, which is flattery no matter how you choose to look at it, how do I resemble an owl?"

"I hadn't thought about that angle. Honestly," he asserted when she gave him a skeptical look, "I hadn't. Owls fly at night when no one else is around, they can hear things that we can't, and in spite of how they look, they are the perfect hunters because they don't make any noise when they fly."

An eyebrow raised appraisingly. "Are you comparing me to a nocturnal predator?"

"Not in those words," he replied. "I was thinking that it would be more of a quiet protector, if you need a label, even if the ways that the bird works its magic aren't clearly understood at first glance."

Her eyes were laughing, but the smile on her face was genuine and warm, and a touch of a blush coloured her cheeks. "That's... thank you, Arisato. That's perfect."

Another check mark in the 'win' column. Minato inclined his head to stop from clearly grinning. "I'm glad you like it. Now, which one suits me? Do you need a minu–"

"This one," she told him, pointing.

He blinked, then nodded as he looked to see which one she meant. "That was fast. Which one... Is that a dog? Or a wolf?"

"A bit of both," she explained. "The seal on the forehead suggests that it's an inugami. Fierce, protective, loyal, and the strongest spirit that an onmyouji can summon."

He'd heard the stories, and remembered them when she told him. His mother had loved tales of the supernatural and adored trying to scare her children with them when they were young (He'd always handled it well while 'Nako had, more than once, crept into his bed with him because she was sure the monsters stayed away from him on those nights). Inugami were also typically loyal to one person. They imprinted on that individual and served them for life. Minato bowed to her, flattered. "I'm honoured, and I accept."

"As do I. Could you attach mine please?" She turned and presented her back to him, handing him the owl mask.

Minato was glad that the sharp pain that had hit his hands when they were eating had resided enough for him to handle the mask and its strings properly. But seeing her lovely hair and neck so close, offered just like when he was putting suntan lotion on her at Yakushima, made him sweat a little under the collar."There you go," he told her a few moments later, strings tied and secure with him touching her soft, supple skin only as necessary. Which didn't alter the fact that her perfume made him want to lean in for a closer, longer breath, or that she giggled a little when his fingers brushed her neck.

"Thank you. I'd hate to lose it." She sounded sincere when she said that. "Shall I attach yours?"

"Please." He turned and gave her the mask, smiling for a moment at the thought of how being taller than he was probably made this easier for her. When he felt her fingers skim across his skin, shivers raced down his spine and gathered at his knees and he had to remind himself to keep breathing. Maybe it was accidental, but part of him wondered if she was doing it on purpose.

"All done," she confirmed as she stepped back. "It looks good on you. Now, is there more to see?"

"Of course."

They went through the festival slowly, enjoying each attraction. There were plays that they sat in on to catch some of the local mythos, and raffles that Mitsuru-senpai tried four times until she got a cell-phone strap as a gift, that competitive look in her eye. The large roulette wheels proved lucrative when Minato won a coupon book for the local restaurants which he promised to put to good use as well as a fashionable drawstring purse that suited Mitsuru-senpai's kimono like they were cut from the same bolt of cloth. The way her eyes lit up when he gave it to her made him feel ten feet tall and rather proud of all the hours he'd spent playing gambling games during his lunch breaks. Finally, when they were heading for the fireworks display, set to start soon, they were called over by a vendor who had a shooting range set up.

"Give it a try! Win something for your lady there!" the vendor had told them.

Minato shook his head when he saw the targets. Shooting games had never been his specialty, and the best he could do was almost knock over one of the set-up cups after four shots.

"That looks fun," Mitsuru-senpai told him when he finished his turns with a wry smile. "If you don't mind, I'd like to try."

"Of course," he granted, handing the vendor several bills and stepping aside to let her shoot. And she was much better at it than he was after only a few shots to get her bearings. She came much closer to winning something by her fourth shot, and she turned with a raised eyebrow. "Might I impose on you? I almost have it."

She still had the bit in her teeth, especially when there was a chance she could win. It was, he noticed, quickly adding to her charm. Minato paid for another round without a word and stepped back to watch.

This time she bent forward and leaned on the wide counter of the stall, taking careful aim. Minato stepped back to give her room and stay out of her peripheral vision, turning to watch her line up her shots.

She shifted her weight a little for her first shot, and from where Minato was standing the motion brought his eyes down to her hindquarters, particularly between her waist and the tops of her thighs. He blinked and tried to look away respectfully, but she took a shot and shifted again, drawing his eyes to her beautiful, peach-shaped butt. Minato bit his tongue and couldn't keep his mind from feeding him memories of how it had looked when she'd been wearing jeans and chaps on her motorcycle. Or in a sarong at the beach. Or in a skirt when he saw her at school or at the dorm. He knew she never missed an exercise session, so the odds were good that she'd be toned and firm, just the right amount of resistance with some softness and give. She was also fuller in figure than the girls he knew, and when he compared them to her he couldn't help the thought that she was just the right size, with enough bounce and sway to her buns to be exactly what he liked. His hands twitched at the thought of how she'd feel, and cold pain bit into his nerves when his fingers clenched. He cleared his throat and looked at her face. Her face was nice and safe. Except that she chose that moment to reload her air rifle and settle down against the counter, shifting to take aim. And her generous chest, even covered from the layers of her kimono, pressed against the flat surface. It was a definitely first for him, that moment in time, because he'd never been jealous of a counter before. Now he couldn't suppress the feeling of envy at the chance to be that close to her bosom.

"It might be, yeah." Shinjiro-senpai had cornered him before, and there was no way that Minato could deny that Kirijo Mitsuru was getting to him and digging even deeper, and all she was doing was standing there having fun. Right there, a few feet away. Almost in arm's reach. How would she take it? Taking that step meant crossing the line between being friends and being more, and there were plenty of reasons why it would be a bad idea. For everything that came to mind, though, the desire to try was just as strong. No matter how much the idea scared him.

"Got it!" she exclaimed as her last shot hit the target she wanted, stepping back with a victorious grin on her face that made her look carefree and beautiful in a way Minato hadn't seen before. You're getting in deep, the analytical part of his psyche said, a sentiment echoed by a few of his colder, more rational Personas.

She's worth the risk, the other half told him without doubt or shame, and the rest of his Personas wholeheartedly agreed.

They were quieter than usual though. It seemed that they were happy to let him have this evening to himself. Or maybe they thought he had enough to deal with already.

"This is all we have left in that gift tier, miss," the vendor told her with a laugh. "You've got the eyes of a hawk to make those shots. Congratulations."

They both froze when he handed her a giant teddy bear, its brown fur with black, panda-like splotches running across it. "Um..." she began, a lovely blush on her cheeks. "That's... I wasn't expecting something so..."

Minato had never seen her so lost for words before.

She took a moment to collect herself. "That is, you don't have to take it if you don't want to. I recognize that, as a gift, it's rather unorthodox for someone of our age to have, and it should be the thought that counts rather than the item itself."

"Senpai," he told her with a raised finger. It was endearing to see her so nervous, to know that she cared about how he saw this evening, and he felt better about his growing feelings. He stepped over to the prize and carefully took it with his left arm. "I really appreciate this. This is one game I'm terrible at, so thank you for winning him for me. I already know where he's going." A bit awkwardly, but as smoothly as he could, he bowed in acceptance.

The vendor clicked his tongue against his teeth and whistled. "There's how you know a man's serious, miss: he's not afraid to take what you've won him, no matter what it is."

She looked a bit bewildered by the exchange, but a smile crept across her face, a little lopsided and silly but unmistakably genuine. "This has been a very educational evening," she commented, not losing that smile. "Thank you for accepting it, Arisato."

"It's an honour."

"If you kids want to see the fireworks," the vendor told them, "might want to get a good spot soon."

"Of course," she replied, more businesslike now. "Where would you suggest we go?"

The vendor gave them a knowing look. "It's not a place many people know about, but there're benches up the way there that let you see everything. Everyone picks the shrine steps, so the benches should be pretty clear."

"Thanks for the advice," Minato told the man. "Shall we go, Senpai?"

"Of course."

Junpei and Akihiko-senpai would have given him grief, Minato knew, if they saw him with his teddy bear. Just like Kenji and Kazushi. Bebe, though, would be thrilled if he found out, and would probably wax poetic on Japanese stitching methods or something. Regardless, it was worth the cold knives picking at his palm when he saw Mitsuru-senpai relax and genuinely smile when she looked at the teddy bear. They found the benches easily enough, and like the vendor said, there were several spots open with lots of room between them and the other visitors. "This will do," he said, finding room to set all his things down before taking a seat.

She did the same, a happy sigh on her lips as she sat next to him. "I haven't had the chance to see fireworks lately," she told him as she looked skyward. "I've been to celebrations and parties, of course, but it feels like this will be different."

"I hope you like it," he told her.

"I will," she assured him. "I've had a lot of fun tonight, Arisato. Thank you for bringing me here."

"It's been my pleasure, Senpai."

She folded her hands on top of her left leg, closest to him, and Minato looked down, butterflies in his throat. His hands twitched, wondering if he should take the step. His Personas, of course, voiced their opinions on the matter, and a few even sounded amused by where his mind was going.

The butterflies multiplied and he felt physically sick for a moment, breathing steadily to suppress the feeling, but he reached over to where her hands were...

"Arisato?" she asked, a bit quieter than he expected. "What are you doing?"

...and pulled her left hand up with his right, lightly closing his fingers. "This, Senpai."

She looked over at him and let out a short breath. "I assumed you would. That's how it happens in the books, isn't it?"

"Depends on the book, Senpai," he told her, pushing himself to go further even when the butterflies were multiplying in his stomach. "Sometimes it ends with a kiss."

Mitsuru-senpai nodded and blushed, the colour bewitching in the low light. "That's... I have heard of that as well, but I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"Of course," he assured her as quickly as he could, almost tripping over himself, "and I wasn't suggesting it. That was a bad joke. I'm sorry."

"Do you think we could get that far?" she asked, not looking away from him. The colour in her cheeks was beginning to intensify. "When you consider how short a time we've known each other, not to mention the circumstances around you being here, doesn't it seem out of place?"

"I don't think we do anything by the numbers like normal people do, Senpai."

"How true." She cleared her throat a little. "Where... where do you see this going, Arisato?"

"I honestly don't know." He told her after taking a few seconds to steady himself. "A month ago, something like this seemed impossible. Now it's happening and I have no idea what I should do next. But if you're open to ideas, I think we should take it a day at a time. Then we can see how it develops and where it fits with everything else."

"That's a logical approach," she noted.

He took a stabilizing breath just then. "This also might be putting the cart before the horse, but they say that the best relationships come from the best friendships. I like to think that we are pretty good friends already, so... that's why it feels natural, at least to me."

Mitsuru-senpai chuckled a bit coarsely. "Natural to be around me? You're the first person to say that and really mean it, Arisato."

"It's the truth," he told her with as much sincerity as he could find. "I've never met anyone like you before, Senpai, so I'd like to learn everything I can from you while I have the chance."

She sighed, but her hand shifted a bit against his until their palms touched. "I... I don't want you to think I'm against this idea," she began, slowly at first and gaining speed. "Tonight has been wonderful, like I said, and you've been there for me when I wouldn't have expected you to– I mean, anyone else to try." She cleared her throat a little and looked away, that lovely blush getting brighter. "I didn't mean you specifically. I just mean that most people wouldn't, and haven't, and... This is very different for me, and I don't know if I'll get it just right, so... I hope you can help me with this."

Mitsuru-senpai was babbling. Minato wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen and heard it himself, but she was truly and honestly trembling a little and talking a lot.

"I don't expect you to have experience in this anymore than I do," she continued, shifting on the bench a little and blinking rather fast when she looked at him, hands beginning to shake. "You haven't, at least not that I've heard, and I don't want to insult you by making that insinuation. Or that I've read up on you, because I only did it for SEES, and that's not you. Not in your character. I–I have no idea where to go from here, and it's not fair that I'm always asking you to show me things. You have better things to do with your time, and there are certainly books that I could read for reference. I–I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that. Would that work better? They say that relationships are best when they are learned about together, but in a case like this, I feel like you'd be helping me too much, and–"

"Senpai," Minato interrupted her. Or tried to.

"–I know there are sources I can find," she continued like he hadn't said a word, her eyes a little unfocused. "There's the timing, of course, but you know that already. You think everything through, so you know this would have to work around SEES and everything else. Can I even ask you to do that? You know my schedule, Arisato, so do you think– No, I can't ask you to put so much into–"

Minato raised his free hand and held it up between them. He'd wanted to be suave like in the movies and put a finger on her lips, but that would mean messing up her lipstick. "Mitsuru-senpai," he said gently, stopping her and squeezing her hand while rubbing his thumb along the backs of her knuckles. "It's a lot to take in, and it's different for me too. We can take this slowly and figure it out as we go. We both have responsibilities to work around, but, again, we'll make it work and see where it goes." He lowered his hand when it was clear that she wasn't going to interrupt him. "And as to helping you out, I'd be honoured. This is pretty new to me too, so please give me your best regards." Joy rose in his heart when she squeezed his hand in return. Their hands were pressed tightly enough together that he could feel her pulse, racing almost as fast as his. "Thanks. I'm looking forward to it."

"I... I am too," she told him in a soft voice, a gentle look in her eyes and no sign of her rapid-fire words.

Just then the fireworks began, a flower garden of colours and fire screaming into the night sky and sending light across the shrine grounds. Mitsuru-senpai squeezed his hand firmly, then turned her wrist so that his hand was under hers, resting against their legs so that anyone who looked at them would have been hard-pressed to see them holding hands. "This isn't something anyone else needs to know about," she told him slowly, back in control of herself as she looked into his eyes when he questioned what the problem was. "If we're going to try it, then I'd like it to be ours alone. At least for now."

Damn. She'd put his feelings into words so well that he had to think of something else to say. "Of course, Senpai," he told her with a smile. "That sounds perfect."

"Also," she continued with a distinct blush on her cheeks, "if we are going to... progress along these lines, then I feel like you can be less formal when we are alone like this."

"Less formal?"

"You can call me by my name, Arisato. I won't take offense to it."

His mind blew a flywheel and stalled for a moment at what she was saying. She'd told him he could be more casual when he'd first moved into the dorm, but she was so... her that it had felt like a slight to only call her by her given name. It still did, when he thought about it. But if she was asking... "I'll try, Mitsuru," he told her softly, feeling a spark of pride at the smile she gave him in return. "You could do the same with me, you know. I wouldn't mind."

She pursed her lips in thought, mouthing his name silently before she shook her head and gave a light shrug. "I will try in the future, I think, but not yet if you don't mind. One step at a time, right?"

"Of course," he agreed. It would take some getting used to, but he had a feeling he was going to like learning from her.

Together, they looked up at the sky, shuffling a bit closer to each other until their legs were touching, and Minato smiled a calm, free smile. Of all the possible outcomes that he'd considered, this one was... pretty damn awesome. He'd been winging it since the shooting gallery, and was beyond glad that it had worked out as well as it had. "Thanks for everything, Senpai," he murmured, not sure if she could hear him but feeling the need to say it anyway.

"You're welcome, Arisato," she replied, shuffling a bit close and making him sweat with that perfume. "Thank you for such a memorable first date."

First date. His first date with Kirijo Mitsuru had been a success. Minato felt an adrenaline surge, resisted the need to stand up and shout in joy. Instead he squeezed her hand again, told her, "It was my pleasure," and concluded that, yes, this was one throw of the dice that had paid off big.

Neither of them looked down and to the side, or they would have seen Akihiko staring at them, a small, approving smile on his face.

"Aki," a familiar grunt sounded next to him. "What're you–"

Akihiko turned quickly, an outstretched hand silencing his friend while he held a finger to his lips.

"What're you doing? The others are looking for– Hm... Has that been going on long?"

"I'm not sure when it started, but it seems like more than a passing thing, doesn't it?"

"Kid's got balls," Shinji noted with what might have been acceptance, "I'll give him that. When was the last time anyone got that close to Mitsuru?"

"Hasn't happened before," Akihiko replied. "Not as far as I've heard. No one puts the effort in to get that far with her."

"You seem to know what's going on," Shinji commented, looking at his friend. "Was this part of your plan?"

Akihiko shrugged, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face.

It got him a hard snort and a shake of the head. "Seriously? You're playing matchmaker now? When did you get all sensitive and soft like this?"

"Give me a break," Akihiko shot back, quiet enough that the new couple didn't her him. "Arisato's a good guy, and he's gotten this far mostly on his own. He's gotten through to her, he talks to her and she trusts him. I didn't think she'd get this close with anyone, honestly. I have no idea how he did it, but in the light of this, I'm not going to get in the way."

"And that's important to you because...?" The words were drawn out with a hint of exasperation.

"You know why, Shinji," Akihiko told him with a stare. "She's put everything into SEES and she still feels responsible for everything her grandfather did. Her father does too, and from what I understand it's changed him. She's taking on the weight of everything that's happened, and she's never let us shoulder it with her. After all that, I think she deserves a chance at something happy."

Shinji sighed, his irritation and hardened facade bleeding off. "Yeah, I get you. She always seems so in control that it's easy to forget where she comes from. Do you think Arisato can do it? Think he needs a hand?"

"Like I said, he'd a pretty resourceful guy. I wouldn't have put money on him before, but now I can't think of anyone else who would get this far with her. Or do what he does as well as he does."

They both looked at the pair from the shadowed steps before Shinji grunted. "Well, how do you think the others are going to take it? I doubt those girls would keep quiet if they saw this. Junpei sure as hell won't, and they were looking for you earlier."

Akihiko nodded, stepping back toward the festival. "Let's go find them and keep them company then."

Anyone else would have expected Shinji to complain, but instead he nodded, turning to where the others were gathered after one last look at the pair up the hill. Akihiko joined him, a smile on his face when he saw how close they were sitting. Running interference for them wasn't so bad, especially if he could get Arisato to treat him to ramen next time they went running.


Chidori grimaced when she shook the translucent green pills into her hand. Not because of the taste – they were actually a bit sweet – but because she felt her cheek throb when she thought of pills in general. Her second step-father had been a vicious alcoholic and always needed sobering meds to do his job in the morning. Never mind his step-daughter, bruised and bloody and sometimes in too much pain to move to her room from where he'd left her on the floor. No, he'd pop his pills, usually dry, and go to work, suit straight and doused with cologne to cover the smell of booze, like nothing had happened.

She swallowed the suppressants with a generous dose of water and slipped the bottle back into a dress pocket, looking at her axes like she always did when the past came up.

"Do you have enough to last you?" Jin asked from his corner, the glare from his computer shining off his glasses. The half-eaten remains of his sandwich, the half he hadn't given her, lay soggy and cold on the table. "We have more in the stash if you're running low."

"I'm alright," she told him with a small smile. He'd asked her the same question a week ago, and her answer was the same. His concern, though he'd drop his laptop in a tub of water instead of calling it that, was always warming. "But thank you."

Jin had already turned back to the screen, a distracted "mm hm" his only reply.

Chidori sat back on her bed, closing her eyes against the soft light their hideout. Takaya had asked for solitude since the fight in the alleys, and she could tell that he was already looking forward to their next encounter with SEES. He'd been in his room since then, sometimes talking to Hypnos loud enough for her to hear, and she knew better than to interfere.

It was unusual to see him so determined and lively, but she didn't mind the change. She hadn't minded when they'd been hunting students in the Dark Hour, either. Truth was, since they'd gotten away from the Kirijo Group and he'd shown her the path in life she was on now, she didn't mind much of anything. She had everything she wanted and everything she needed. The rest was just a bunch of useless details.

Jin swore to himself while his fingers flew across the keys, as fast as wind-driven rain drops, and she smiled at the familiar sound of his frustration. Not because he was frustrated, but because the sound was one of the first things she recognized as really "him" after the Kirijo experimented on them and he'd lost his memories and his past. Those burning questions she'd been turning away from all her life had driven him to the depths and corners of the Internet, and now she doubted that he remembered those questions or cared unless Takaya wanted to know. And as for their leader, she had no idea if he remembered his childhood or if he'd lost it like Jin had. Chidori wondered sometimes if it mattered, and her hand flexed like she was grabbing the haft of her axes as the memories returned. Maybe they were both luckier than her.

They were the only ones who knew it, but she hadn't suffered from memory loss like so many of the other kids had. She'd wanted to when she heard they were having those problems. It sounded like a blessing, and it drove her to push herself and go further to try and burn the past to the ground. But nothing worked. She remembered the orphanage and the beatings from the other children because of her height, because of her hair, because the little she food she ended up was "still too much" for her to have. She remembered being told, over and over, that her parents clearly hadn't loved her if they'd left her there. She hadn't known it until only a few years ago, but the average Japanese orphanage was, as far as homes went, a few moldy rungs worse than just living on the streets and sleeping near the sewers. The staff had only been there a few times per week, saying they didn't have the funding to look after everyone, and sometimes children would be chosen to go to new homes, only to come back covered in bruises. A few didn't come back, and she had no idea what happened to them or where their bodies ended up.

Chidori stood up and stretched, brushing her dress down after she felt her joints pop. "I'll be outside if you need me," she told Jin, grabbing her sketch book and putting her shoes on.

He turned from his computer, his attention on her and a tone of warning in his voice. "Be careful. Do you want me to come with you?"

"I'll be just around the corner," she assured him. "But thanks."

He looked at her for a moment longer before nodding and going back to his searches.

Chidori made her way into the alleys, the edgy looks from the people there. The first few weeks they'd been on Tatsumi Port Island, she and the others had been bothered by vagrants or punks from the schools trying to show off. Since then, there had been a radical decrease in such problems, and Chidori smiled coldly when some people simply left the moment they saw her. Those were the smart ones.

She sat down on the cleanest steps she could find and opened her sketch book. Scenery and people, buildings and vehicles, there was always something. As much grief as her near-perfect memory gave her at times, it was very useful for letting her remember things long enough to draw them, and since she'd been putting memories to graphite ever since her initial interview with her first case worker, she had to admit that she was pretty good at it.

Flipping through the pages brought her to one that stung her heart. The smart red eyes, white fur that looked as soft as a pillow, and the lively energy in his small body that made her wonder if the picture would jump off the page as soon as she finished it.

She wouldn't blame him if he did; she'd tried to kill him.

It still hurt, and that was a rare enough sensation that she wanted to indulge in it a little longer. Remembering the dog in the alley, how Takaya and Medea ordered her to kill him and how cute and friendly he looked, wrenched at her heart. He hadn't deserved it. She hadn't wanted to do it, and she knew it was a mistake the moment that the axe left her hand. Hearing his yelp and seeing the blood made her want to run over and help him, to patch him up and hold him until the Dark Hour ended. She had taken a few steps toward him, ready to do just that and damn the consequences, when he saw those eyes go from friendly and smart to fiery and savage.

She'd never have guessed that a dog could really have a Persona, but for the three-headed guardian of Hell to manifest and try to take her apart... that was more appropriate than she could have guessed. He'd been relentless and had almost gotten her near the end, but she'd given him the slip when his owners, or maybe friends, found him and tried to treat him, holding him even as he clawed and snarled after her.

Chidori sighed, running her hand down the fine lines and the indents in the page. There was still the background to do before the picture was finished, but she decided to keep him like that for a while longer. Even if he'd try to kill her the next time they met, she wanted to keep a little bit of that energy for herself.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to him. He'd been very nice in the short time before she attacked him, and going after animals always felt wrong. Her first pets had been stray cats outside the orphanage. Begging on the streets was better when people could see a bedraggled kitten in the hands of an even more miserable girl, and she always split what she got or stole with her furry friends. Even if most of them only stayed around her when she had food, they cared enough to be honest about that.

Unlike people. People lied and beat her. People were cruel. People deserved it.

Her first foster family had been a set of broken hopes and dreams, and when she crawled back to her caseworker, there was a look of disappointment in the woman's eyes. Apparently it was Chidori's fault that the man had been a deadbeat and his wife was a shrill-voiced hag who worked 60 hours per week. Running away from them had ended with Chidori feeling like she'd just made the woman's job harder by not toughing it out. After she ran away from the second family, she stopped getting interviews with prospective parents. Until a representative from the Kirijo Group had knocked on the door.

She snorted, glaring down the alleyway. Talk about too good to be true. Food and a soft bed and her own room. There was even a girl, she'd heard, who also had red hair who had manifested a Persona. When Chidori had heard that, she hadn't been able to stop the hope that sprung up of meeting someone else like her and maybe making a real friend. Someone who might understand what she'd been through.

She'd never met the girl though. The tame experiments, the poking and prodding with medical instruments and regularly being told 'low priority, re-assess at a later point' were what she remembered the most of the place. That and Miura-san, her therapist. He'd asked her all kinds of questions and seemed honestly upset when she'd told him a little bit about her foster families and the orphanage. He'd said he'd talk to someone about what had happened, and she believed him in spite of herself. She'd told herself not to hope too much, not when he knew so little about her.

A few days later, the facility went up in smoke and she'd had to run from the Shadows and the screams. She'd run with Jin and Takaya, though she hadn't known their names then, from the things chasing them and saw the shredded upper half of Miura-san down one of the sterile, stainless steel hallways, still twitching. And just like that she was back on the street again, back under the power of uncaring society. Always forgotten because nobody cared. Everyone was always too busy getting to work or picking up their kids from school or paying their bills. One of the most socially advanced countries in the world, she'd heard people call Japan, and no one had the time for a filthy little orphan girl.

Takaya had changed that. He took charge of their little group and wouldn't let them waste away at the side. He helped her, gave her a direction, and when they needed things, he bowed to no one. No more asking. No more begging. They took what they wanted, stayed where they liked, and they were strong enough to make anyone who bothered them regret it. Using her Persona against people had never occurred to her, and she'd let the guys do it since it came easier to them. She had her axes and her charms, and that was enough. Or it had been until Takaya had asked her that question:

"What do you want to do, Chi-chan?" he asked calmly. It was a cute little nickname that he'd given her after she begged and pleaded her way into a large seafood platter from a high-end restaurant's chef when they were going to throw it out. Takaya didn't mean more by it than being a friend, she knew, but no one had ever called her that before. It made her feel like part of their little group.

She'd looked at him, cleaning off her blades after a rough encounter with a local gang who'd thought that a foreigner would go for a good price to someone. "What do I want?"

"You must want something now that we're free," he'd told her, holding a hand out to the buildings around them and the still-bleeding bodies of the fools who hadn't gotten the message. "We have a chance to go anywhere and do anything we want. We're free of the chains of the Kirijo and we are bound by nothing, so what do you want to do?"

She blinked. For the first time, someone was asking her what she wanted. Someone was giving her a choice like she mattered. "I... haven't given it much thought."

"If you need help with something, just tell us," Jin assured her. "You've helped us out plenty."

Being recognized like that had made her eyes sting. Years of being overlooked or forgotten, hit and told she wasn't good enough no matter how much she tried, cracked in the face of his honest gratitude. She'd tried to help them, and they really meant it when they said they appreciated it. It was almost too much for her.

"Isn't there something left unfinished for you?" Takaya asked, his voice deepening a little in a tone she knew meant that Hypnos was stirring just under the surface. It was always easy for him to use his Persona, even when they were with the Kirijo. Not like her. She'd been sidelined and told that she wasn't going to amount to much, in spite of having the potential. As far as she could tell, she was on the low end of the spectrum when it came to her powers, and she still couldn't manifest them very easily.

She was startled by his insight. It was useful when he used it on other people, but being on the receiving end made her shiver a little. He would never hurt her, she knew, but still... "What makes you think that?"

"You cringe in your sleep," Takaya told her, "like you're remembering something unpleasant."

"Like you're being hurt," Jin elaborated, stepping forward with a serious look on his face. "Sometimes you get up in the middle of the night and cry. Who did that to you?"

So many faces flashed before her eyes. Fellow orphans, case workers, her step parents. Everyone she'd ever seen on the streets. "That's... it's not important. They can't hurt me now."

"They never should have hurt you to begin with," Takaya told her, a cold smile spreading on his face. "They could have helped you, maybe kept you from the Kirijo. But they didn't, did they? Instead they hurt you for being different from them."

"That's... Not how it happened."

Takaya's smile diminished a little. "Do you owe them something? A debt of some sort? You seem like you're trying to protect them."

She had nothing to say to that. No objection to make that wouldn't sound like an excuse.

He continued, the soft, persuasive tone in his voice getting stronger. "If you owe them something, then we can help you pay it back. If they hurt you, then they should be punished, shouldn't they? Even if it's just a little. That's how the world works. Ask any adult and they'll say the same thing."

The names came with the faces this time. Each one burned into her brain like the beatings and abuse had tattooed them there. She'd tried to forget them, tried to bury them, but now they were where they could hurt her again. And they might if they saw her again, or... No, she thought. Things were different now. She had friends who wouldn't abandon her, for the first time in her life, and they wouldn't let anyone hurt her. But she didn't want to lose them by asking too much. "I couldn't... that would take up so much time..."

"We've got nothing better to do," Jin assured her. "And this place is getting pretty dull. Better scenery and somewhere new would be pretty fun. Just give the word."

She didn't know what pushed her to give the name of her first foster family. She remembered wanting to see them again, to prove that she was better than they were, but she also knew what Takaya and Jin did to people when they tried to push them away. What she did to people when they got in her way.

Was she planning on killing them? No. She wanted to scare them, to make them feel some measure of what they'd put her through. It was only fair.

She hadn't been sure how to address them, or even how she could be sure that both of them would be there for her to talk to, but Jin had gotten information on their shared schedule (Somehow. She didn't know the details) and Takaya had assured her that her foster parents would talk to her and listen to what she had to say. That she had nothing to worry about this time.

She'd gone up to the door that had so terrified her when she was a child, that had left her knees shaking and brought tears to her eyes so long ago, and felt apprehension. She knocked on the door and invited herself in when she heard them inside.

The past and the present meshed and she flinched when the familiar smell of tonkatsu ramen and cheap fabric softener and shoe polish hit her like a slap.

"What do you want?" the husband asked, turning around on the same couch, looking at her without recognizing her for a moment. "We don't need..." then it hit him, and the indifference morphed into resignation, and then into a sneer. "It's you. What do you want?"

She was paralyzed. So many memories rose in that moment that she wasn't in the house anymore. She was at the orphanage, being hit until the rooms melted into the alleys where she curled up under a stolen plastic sheet, trying to sleep as the rain poured around her. Then in the Kirijo facility again, more afraid than she'd ever been before when those things came after her.

Chidori couldn't move when the wife came out, or three more people who Chidori recognized as the wife's brother and parents. The brother had looked at her in strange ways when he visited and always licked his lips when he talked to her, and the mother always rapped Chidori's hands with bony knuckles during dinner, chiding her for her "atrocious" table manners.

"It's alright," Jin told her when he stepped next to her, not letting the adults push them out. "We're here, remember?"

That's right. They were. For the first time, Chidori truly had people in her corner. People who would help her when she needed it. She had real friends.

"You..." she told them, trembling but forcing the words out.

"Are you trying to blame us for something?" the wife demanded, her hair pulled back into a too-tight bun. "Don't waste my time. Hurry up and get out."

"I'm not weak," she told them quietly, more sure of herself when she felt Takaya step up behind her and pat her shoulder in encouragement. "I'm not a child now. You can't hurt me. You can't beat me or starve me or tell me I'm not good enough anymore."

Five pairs of eyes looked at her and not a one showed an inkling of concern. "That might have been different if you'd been a better child," the wife replied, waving her hand dismissively. "You weren't, though, and that's what bad children get. Like a call to the police if you don't get out right now."

Chidori was stunned. Even now, she was getting nowhere. No one looked like they cared that the woman had just admitted to everything she'd been accused of. Accusatory glares, an indifferent stare, and a revolting leer that made her want a bath were all she got after so many sleepless nights and horrible memories.

They were... She was... She...

She was done pretending. She was livid. She was far, far past the point of wanting to just scare them now.

"You..." she grated, eyes burning while that terrible power, the power the Kirijo had given her but had never been able to bring to the surface, boiled in her body and demanded a way out. "You never cared. You never even tried. You never gave one shit about me and everything you put me through!"

"Going to the orphanage was foolish of us," the wife told her coldly. "It was a mistake. Now leave."

"A... a mistake? A mistake!?" she demanded, her voice amplified enough to rattle the dishes in the cabinets. "I was NOT a MISTAKE!"

Power arced around her like lightning in a bottle. The entire house groaned when a shockwave hammered at the supports, leaving it creaking like it was as afraid of her as the people were. The normal, frail, stupid people had been blown from their feet and were looking at her with raw terror in their eyes.

Chidori felt something at her side. Something materializing from nothing, tall and gangly and beast-like. Something she'd been given when the Kirijo took her in.

Medea.

"You! ALL of YOU were the MISTAKES!" she screamed, turning her power loose and directing it toward them.

She didn't know what precisely happened after that. The entire floor had rumbled and cracked, the sound of things and people breaking filled her ears for a few seconds that seemed like they'd go on forever. When she opened her eyes, not knowing when she closed them, almost every surface had been stained a slick red. Parts of her first adopted family had been torn up and scattered across the place. Three of the shapes only vaguely resembled humans now, flayed and torn apart.

Her foster father had half the living room table lodged in his chest, his eyes already glazing over. The three in the kitchen were unrecognizable, slashed into chunks of meat. Only Chidori's foster mother was still moving, an arm torn off and her side ripped open. She was crawling toward her, her attached arm raised as she was bleeding out.

"Pl...please," the woman gasped hoarsely, wetly, going into shock. "I'm sorry. H-help..."

Something died in Chidori just then. So much abuse, so much pain inflicted, and the woman behind it was begging for her life less than a minute after she'd been ready to slap her again and throw her into the street. So much anger, so much spite, all gone now. How... pathetic.

"Alright," Chidori told her quietly, stepping forward and bending over the woman. "Alright, Mom, I'll help you."

There was barely enough time to look grateful before Chidori's axes came out. The woman was dead by the third swing, her head severed from her neck by the sixth swing, and Chidori's arm was sore from her swinging over and over and over and over again by the fourteenth. The body she was hacking into gave no response to the strikes except to jostle a little like a side of beef on a spike. All she felt was the tears on her face and how her teeth were bared in a fierce, hateful snarl.

She finally stopped when her shoulder throbbed, begging her for a reprieve. She pulled her breath in raggedly, gasping sharply as she came back to the world. The blood on her hands and face was warm, warmer than the people who'd shed it had ever been, and there was something comforting about how quiet it was now.

After a while, or maybe right then, she didn't know, Jin spoke up. "We can stay here for as long as you want, but someone's probably going to call the cops from all the noise. Or they'll come to see what happened to... them." There was nothing in his tone. No disgust or fear or care. He could have been ordering lunch for all the concern he showed.

Staying there was a tempting offer, but Chidori knew that it wasn't an option. The cops would have had a hard time stopping three Persona-Users, and while she'd never gotten anything from the police except harassment about sleeping on the street, it wasn't worth the effort.

Not when seeing the people who'd hurt her so much reduced to slabs for the coroner ignited a feeling of anticipation in her heart. Not when her list was still so long.

"We'll leave," she told them, her dress now red with a few spots of white on it. "There are some others I want to visit. Do you mind?"

Takaya smiled to her, and she didn't care whether it was him or Hypnos that replied. They were both her friends, and they'd stood with her through it all. "Not at all. We're here to help you."

They took to the streets, and Chidori began to give Jin the names from her list. Her second foster family, the bullies who'd harassed her, the attendants, her caseworkers, everyone. She'd wanted to get started right away, but Jin had told her to wait a while between visits. Too many deaths too close together would have sparked an interest, and news of a slaughtered family had hit the evening news by the time they'd gotten back to their hideout.

It took years, and a lot of traveling. She had no idea how Jin had found them, especially since some had changed their names, but he tracked them down and, when the time was right, Chidori paid each of them a 'house call.' She started with her second foster family and used her axes that time, aiming for extremities and making it last instead of using Medea. She made it last. Next had been the orphanage attendants, who had apologized to Chidori only after she killed half their families. Next had been her caseworkers, and the thrill started to give way to an emptiness in her heart. She didn't make those ones last and was in and out in only a few minutes. By then the Kirijo were investigating the murders, but Jin kept them one jump ahead of their dogs.

Ten years after her escape from the compound and her first meeting with Medea, Chidori had killed the last person on her list, cornering him and crushing him with a dead-eyed gaze like a squeezed doll. She'd looked to Takaya, who had the same smile as ever, and asked, "What now?"

She always asked him that, and sometimes they would hide, other times they'd have dinner as a team. As friends. This time, he'd told her something different. "I feel like we should go home for now."

Tatsumi Port Island. As good a place as any. It had proven a little interesting, but by then fighting off gangs and establishing their turf was routine and dull. Jin's revenge website had been fun for a while, but the thrill died down from that too.

Until the names Arisato Minato and Iori Junpei came up. Since then, things were actually getting a bit interesting.

"Chi-chan," Takaya called her from the alley corner, breaking her from her reverie. "Are you well enough fight?"

She shook her head a little, locking the memories up and flipping her sketchbook closed as she rose. "Of course," she replied. "What do you have in mind?"

"The full moon is tomorrow night," he told her, his smile growing. "SEES will be out, trying to save the world again."

She narrowed her eyes a little, looking at him quizzically. "Are you planning another ambush?"

"No," he asserted, "not this time. They will be expecting that. But you said that one of their members is rather fond of you, correct? I think it's time we utilize that."

Chidori smiled coldly, her hands flexing and the smell of blood already in her mind.

Animals she'd leave alone, especially SEES's white dog. But people? Yes, people were just fine.


"Has anyone seen Junpei?" Yukari asked as they gathered at the mall in front of Club Escapade, looking around with her brow creased in suspicion. "He said he was going to meet us here after he looked after something."

Everyone replied with shakes of the head or shrugs.

"Did he tell you what it was?" Fuuka asked as she tied a new bandana around her neck, full water cooler at her feet.

"No," was Yukari's frustrated reply while she ran a hand back through her hair, "and he seemed like he was trying to keep it secret. I ran into him in the lobby when he was leaving and he tried to make me promise not to tell anyone."

"That's not like him," Minato noted, stretching and rolling his wrists. "Do you have any idea what it might have been?"

Yukari shook her head, her brow creasing even more. "I have no idea. He knew tonight was the full moon, though, and he seemed to think that whatever it was wasn't going to take very long."

Mitsuru-senpai looked at them from where she'd been staring at the club door, concern clear on her face. "It's not safe for him to be alone like this. Yamagishi, can you find him?"

Fuuka stepped away from them, held her arms out, and manifested Lucia around her. "I'll look right now, Senpai. Give me a few minutes."

Minato flexed his hands and rubbed them while they waited, glad that the residual pain had finally healed. He pulled his Evoker out and tested his grip, staring at the polished metal. What a difference it made, having the tool in hand. He'd gotten so used to it being there that he'd taken it for granted, and the feeling of his Personas ripping out of him had been on his mind since that night in the alleys. Enough to make him shiver whenever the thought came to visit. He promised himself that he'd use his Evoker instead of summoning raw. There was no telling how serious the damage would be if he took that chance again.

Fuuka let out a puzzled sound across their mental link. "This is strange. I feel like he's in the area, but I can't get a clear direction. Something is definitely wrong."

"Could it be that someone is blocking you?" Minato asked, resting his forearm on his sword hilt. "Like when we were ambushed?"

"It does feel like that," Fuuka confirmed a few moments later. "Not completely the same, but it is very similar."

"Our friends are back, then," Minato concluded, cursing to himself. Junpei might have walked into a trap, and Minato hadn't had the time to double-check everything before tonight. Did this have anything to do with the girl in Junpei's life? That was the sort of thing that would get the teen's attention, and, Minato deduced, it was the only new variable he could think of that might have changed anything.

"We should go find them then," Yukari told him, a grim look in her eye. "We owe them that much."

"I agree," Fuuka chimed in. "If it is them again, then we can't let them get away."

Minato grit his teeth. Of course. Taking Junpei was a hit to the team, but taunting the people who had a reason to go after him was a quick way to isolate them again. And he wasn't going to go down that road again. "If we do that, we're putting everyone at risk," he told them, drawing understanding looks and incredulous stares. "Splitting up might be what they are expecting, and they might have something new for us this time."

"We know how they'll respond to us though," Yukari argued. "You and Fuuka know what to expect, and we'll be together this time. They can't fight all of us off."

"We survived because they decided to let us go last time," Minato countered, his voice flat. Just thinking about that night made his hands and arms ache. "I have no idea if we're ready to fight them, especially not against someone who knows more about Personas than we do. Going after them means fighting on their terms, just like last time. I understand where you're coming from, but are we really at an advantage just because we weren't killed before?"

"Minato-kun's assessment is appropriate for this scenario," Aigis told them, barely visible under all her weapons. "We still lack sufficient information on that group to safely determine our odds of success. Without a clear advantage, or at least a neutral field of battle, we cannot be sure of everyone's safety. Furthermore, if we are not able to rescue Junpei-san with sufficient time to defeat the Shadow, we will have lost our opportunity for this month. According to the mission parameters, this is unacceptable. Additionally, we must fight the Shadow tonight. Doing so while injured or fatigued lowers our chances of success significantly."

"She has a point," Akihiko-senpai pointed out, cracking his neck with a grunt. "Taking on one of the big ones when we're not at 100% is playing with fire. Especially after last time."

Ken looked like he wanted to say something, but kept quiet. Maybe because he was the newest member, or maybe because the Shadow's presence could be felt even from here. Either way, he was petting Koromaru behind the ears, trying to distract the dog from his downcast looks and whimpers to the others. The rest of them were stony-faced or chewing over the situation and not getting anywhere.

"That's..." Yukari whispered, anger gritting her teeth while understanding grew in her eyes. "I know all that, but we can't just leave him there. Not with those psychos. He's one of us, isn't he?"

"He is," Minato assured her, "and we're not abandoning him. If we kill the Shadow fast enough, we'll find him and get him back before the Dark Hour's over. We'll do it together so that no one's put at risk."

Shinjiro-senpai stepped forward, a huge axe propped on his shoulder like it weighed as much as a pool cue. "Not to put a damper on your plan," he began, face in his usual, impatient "don't waste my time" scowl, "but if they wanted to kill him, they might do it before we get there."

Fuuka and Ken gasped and Koromaru whined louder. Minato's eyes narrowed. Was their newest member testing him? Or was this how he handled pre-battle prep and planning sessions? Either way, he kept his voice steady. "As far as we know, it's me they want. That seemed to be their angle last time. They took him as bait for a trap, but if they do think I'm coming, even if I'm a bit late, they'll keep him alive."

"But they could still kill him if you annoy them," the taller teen pointed out. "Right?"

"Let's not talk about him like he's already dead," Mitsuru-senpai told them sternly, hand on her hip. "We're inviting trouble if we do. And I have faith in him; Iori's very resourceful. He'll buy us the time we need."

"I agree," Fuuka added.

"If they wanted to kill him, they'd have done it instead of kidnapped him," Minato asserted. "And they could do that even if we leave right now. Our best bet is to take the Shadow down fast and go after Junpei in numbers. We don't need a repeat of what happened last time."

Yukari shook a little, her fists clenched, but she looked at him with a hard determination in her eyes. It was easy to imagine what, and who, she was thinking of just then. "Alright. Let's do it then."

Minato looked at his comrades. "Everyone get ready. Escapade doesn't have many places to hide, so let's do it right. Don't take any chances, understand?"

Everyone nodded and checked their weapons one last time. Mitsuru-senpai had her arms lightly crossed as she walked over to him. "How are you doing?" she asked, looking lovely under her unflattering body armour and surrounded by the stink of rot.

"100% and ready to go," he assured her, cracking his knuckles and running his thumbs along his freshly-filed fingernails. In spite of the dangers of their work, it was good to be fighting again. Much better than being propped up on a bed while the doctors poked at him.

"Good," she replied, leaning forward a little to give him a knowing look. "I'm glad that your hands are feeling better. It was rather reckless of you to lie your way out of the hospital like that."

Minato froze, then looked at her with a bashful smile. "You knew, huh? I can't hide anything for you, Senpai."

"No, you can't. It was rather obvious at the festival," she told him with a victorious little smile that pressed her bow-like lips together. "The way you held things, how you flexed your hands, gave you away. I hope you haven't suffered any permanent damage because of that."

Minato shrugged. "I'm fine. I was sore for a while, but everything's working like it should."

Mitsuru-senpai rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Don't do it again please. Your health is important and we don't need you suffering from injuries because you pushed yourself."

"I'll be careful," he promised her, sidling a little closer to her with a smile on his face. "But even if it did hurt, it was definitely worth it."

She blinked rather cutely and her cheeks were tinged red as they pulled up in a smile. "I thought so too," she murmured before her features settled into a cast they both knew meant business. "Are we ready?" she asked the others after turning to face them.

"Ready and willing," Akihiko-senpai replied.

Minato nodded, took a bracing breath and let it out in a short hiss, the familiar sensation of killing readiness and adrenaline mixing in his veins. "Let's go to work."


"They're not coming for you," Chidori told him, leaning against the wall in a patch of darkness that obscured even the white of her dress. "Seems they think the Shadow is more important than one of their own."

Junpei struggled against the cords that held him to the chair, feeling them cut into his wrists and bite into where they'd already broken the skin. The pain was a nice distraction from beating himself up over being so gullible and careless. She'd gotten the drop on him, but he'd made it way too easy for her, coming unarmed and without even thinking that all his empty bragging was going to bite him in the ass like this.

"I don't blame them," he told her, looking for something say. If she was talking to him, she wasn't eyeing up prime parts to cut off with those axes of hers. He'd already cursed her out, calling her everything he could think of in the moment. It hadn't made a difference though, and instead it had only left him feeling worse. He swore at himself. Why should it? She'd led him on, jumped him and tied him up, so why did it hurt to remember all the things he'd called her? He hated giving weight to those idiots at school, but this was definitely one of his stupider moments. "We have a job to do, and that comes first."

"Hmmmm," she taunted, stepping away from the wall and setting the flat of one of her axe blades on his shoulder, holding it there despite how he tried to move away from it. "That's very loyal of you. Only thinking of the mission and the job. Rather predictable for a Kirijo stooge."

He glared at her while still trying to get away from that axe. He knew enough about swords and blades to recognize that it was very, very sharp. "What does that have to do with it? What does the Kirijo Group or Senpai have to do with any of this?"

"They train for obedience," she told him, her voice flat and her eyes hard. "They reward for little tricks and don't let their people off the leash."

Had she always been like this? Was it the difference in surroundings? Her face had a menacing cast to it, her cheekbones made her look threatening instead of classically pretty, and those cute hands of hers looked ready to slowly pull his heart out instead of draw in that sketch book of hers. He didn't remember her looking this way in the daylight, nor could he have imagined her being this dangerous when he first laid eyes on her.

"They give their orders, they get results, and they don't care who they have to step on to get what they want," she continued. "I don't know what they did to get you on their side, and it doesn't really matter. But this is what following them gets you."

"I'm here because I want to be here," he told her, his teeth setting together. "Not because Senpai made me an offer. We kill Shadows and help The Lost. People are better off from what we do. How is that a bad thing?"

"You do that because someone else told you to," she noted in a condescending tone. "Do you give any thought to what happens to those people after you save them? Maybe they have brain damage. Maybe they remember the things that attacked them and they snap. Are you really saving anyone? Have you even thought of that?"

"They go to the hospital for observation and the Kirijo Group checks them out before letting them go," Junpei spat, struggling against his bonds again. Maybe if they got enough blood on then, he'd be able to get a hand free. "We do follow-ups when we can because, yes, we actually care about what happens to them. We don't hide in the shadows and kill people, or corner a high school student and blow her brains out."

Chidori blinked, her face not changing in the slightest. But she did pull her axe back to her side, holding it like it was a natural part of her hand. "So what? She was going to die one day anyway."

"So are you," Junpei snapped. "We all are, and some of us deserve it more than others. But her? She was seventeen and she sure as hell didn't deserve it. I know her parents, I sit next to her boyfriend, and what you did broke them. I'll take being a stooge who helps people over being a murderer."

"I didn't kill her," she replied tonelessly. "It doesn't matter though. She was dead as soon as she woke up. If we hadn't done it, the Shadows would have. Maybe killing her like that was a mercy. Maybe we spared her from going through something worse."

"Or she might have survived through the Dark Hour. Scared and hurt, maybe, but she'd still be alive!"

Her head tilted to the side while she looked at him like he was a strange animal at the zoo. "Does that bother you? You barely knew her, and I doubt she gave you the time of day. Why do you care?"

"The people in her life cared," he insisted, heat burning his words and igniting his glare. "They're good people who loved her, and she had a life ahead of her that didn't involve any of this shit. Now she's dead and those people are a mess because of you. Of course I'm pissed off: her life mattered. Everyone's life does."

That got him a raised eyebrow, and nothing more. "Even yours? Your friends don't seem to think so."

He shook his head, staring at her and not wavering in the slightest. "They'll be here. I know them that well."

She chuckled without a hint of humour. "You're an idiot."

"Maybe," he shrugged as much as the cords would let him. It was time he started asking the questions. "But what about you? You sound like you've got a bone to pick with Senpai and the Kirijo Group, so what's your story?"

"That's my business."

"Sure it is, but it's not like I can do anything if you tell me, right? I'm tied up here and we'd never heard of you until you locked us up with that tank." That was a blind stab. He had no idea if she'd been involved with that, but the list of people who could have done it was pretty short. "You can talk about that, right?"

She blinked, then tilted her head a little. "Who was fighting that Shadow when you saw it? You weren't the only ones in there, were you?"

Junpei grinned and raised his eyebrows. Finally, something she was interested in. "Why do you want to know? You know everything else about us, so what's stopping you there?"

Her hand flew forward, and Junpei ducked to the side as fast as he could to avoid the axe by mere centimeters as it sliced past him. His momentum was enough to send him to the ground on his side, still bound and tied up, with a hard crash. "We don't know!" he shouted, pushing the words out past his racing heart. "We thought he or she was with you guys, but no one was there when we saw it. Someone who had a Persona, that's it."

Chidori pulled on the chain to free her axe from where it was imbedded, half an inch deep, into the wall. A swift yank and it flew back to her hand like an obedient puppy. "That's a shame. Whoever it was did a good job of ruining a perfectly good trap."

"Then it wasn't one of you, huh?" Junpei asked while he shifted around on the floor, trying to get a bit more comfortable. "I would've pegged one of you guys for it, though. Hiding and sneaking around seems to be your thing."

She didn't take the bait, instead flicking her eyes over him in a way that was probably reserved for the mildest of minor annoyances. "Maybe. You're talking too much."

"Not like I have much else to do, right?" He tried for a different approach, remembering all of Kenji's failed pick-up lines and how suave he thought he was despite being shot down by every older girl he talked to. "So, how about it?" he asked with a pained grin. "What makes you tick? There has to be more to you than axes and drawing, right?"

He wasn't so sure that he'd asked the right question this time, because she took several steps forward, her lips spreading into a smile that would have been rather pretty if her eyes weren't getting even colder.


"I hate being right," Minato swore, pulling the trigger and igniting the air in front of him as another murder of Shadows swooped at him. "Just once I'd like to be wrong in a good way."

It wasn't been as bad as he'd expected. His joke to Mitsuru-senpai about the next Shadow possessing an aircraft carrier hadn't come to pass. But the Shadow, made up of live wires and hissing power cables, had brought friends. Lots and lots of friends. Smaller Shadows scurried at them from the corners and dove at them from the blackened ceiling, keeping everyone firing in sequence and fighting in pairs. Akihiko-senpai and Shinjiro-senpai tore up the front line with him and Mitsuru-senpai, alternating and cutting and blowing holes in the surging walls of darkness and flashing claws and fangs. Yukari and Aigis covered them at range, bullets and wind blasts covering their flanks. And Ken and Koromaru moved between the two, their shared size and speed making them a match for anything that got through.

If they'd split up before, they'd have been dead. Minato was furiously glad he had them next to him. And all their training and practice had them working like a well-oiled team and fighting perfectly. Now if the small fries would just stop coming...

The towering Shadow glared at them with eyes that glowed like the contact point of an arc welder, staring a piercing bright blue as it roared and swung and ripped up the floor. Electricity arced around them and sent them dodging to the side while Aigis lined up another shot with her grenade launcher and Persona. When the Shadow recoiled, a phantom howl followed, and they all fired off at once to unleash a barrage of power that would have brought the whole building down.

If it had connected.

Flocks of Shadows flew in front of their target, forming a shield against the blasts and sacrificing themselves to take the edge off the strikes. And when Polydeuces and Castor hammered at it, they collided with a barrier made from the power the Shadow was drawing from the city grid. At best, only two of their strikes were getting through every time they struck, and the Shadow only glowed brighter and get angrier.

"Nothing's ever easy," he gritted, cutting another Shadow down and turning so he was back-to-back with Mitsuru-senpai before he pulled the trigger.

"It's charging up again!" Fuuka warned them sharply. "Be careful!"

The floor buckled and the Shadows swooped down while the entire room was bathed in electric blue.

"Get ready," Mitsuru-senpai told him, sweating and bleeding a little.

Like a searchlight, the Shadow's stare focused on her and Minato, and he pushed her forward while running away from her. "Move!" he shouted, diving just as the lightning and thunder roared just past him. The explosion wasn't far away enough this time, and sent him flying.

Hitting the ground left him dazed, and he could only hear Fuuka yelling at him to get up and look out for the incoming Shadows. Everything else was dull noise or high-pitched ringing, even though he saw the others yelling at him. He tried getting up and could barely move his legs. He's been hit enough in passing that his body wasn't listening to him, jerking from the voltage.

Minato didn't have the time to swear, and wouldn't have heard himself anyway, because the spotlight fell on him and narrowed like he was on stage.

Holding himself up on his sword, he looked up into the Shadow's hateful stare. Detachment and fighting fury gave way to fear as its eyes narrowed and its flocks swooped down at him.

He was back in the alleys, Death staring at him as that flayed Persona screamed like a chorus of the damned. Then he was in the bunker, a loaded cannon pointed at his face.

Minato grit his teeth, stared, and fought to keep the terror down. It wouldn't do him any good here. He clenched his Evoker but could barely move it. Instead his muscles tightened and jerked, refusing to listen to him. He struggled to get it up one last time when the killing darkness...

...stopped.

The Shadows screamed around him like water around a rock, loud enough to make his head spin. Their master's gaze lightened, from dark blue to light azure like someone had dialed back how much power it was getting. Something brushed his face that wasn't there, and the familiar sensation of beetles and needles crawled up his body, rattling together until words formed. Words in a voice that sounded like poured gravel on a hill and rumbles of thunder carried in the clouds.

"YOU..."

The Shadow's touch on his mind deafened him to everything else, from Fuuka's attempts to get through to him to the others fighting even harder. Its presence rolled over him like a wave and shook him to his knees. This time they weren't just words, but feelings. Rage and jealousy and isolation, hatred from being alone. Unending spite against people and hardened control over the smaller Shadows. But past all that was clear recognition, and Minato looked up at it. And saw understanding in its blinding stare.

"IT IS YOU!"

It was a chance. A chance he didn't have before, and he wasn't going to lose it. "Who are you?" Minato demanded, his own voice muffled in his ears. "How do you know me!?"

Its head lowered, arms stationary and only glowing a little. "YOU DON'T KNOW? YOU DON'T REMEMBER?"

"Remember what? There's nothing to remember!" The adrenaline helped Minato stand while the chance to get to the bottom of the mystery gave him focus.

"THERE IS MUCH TO REMEMBER."

"Then tell me what it is!"

It shifted and rumbled in a move that Minato knew, somehow, was a nod. "YOU ARE THE–"

Its words were drowned out by a impossibly loud, high-pitched shriek. Its surprise had apparently been so great that it had dropped its shields. A combined blast from the others, more powerful than anything they'd created before, screaming toward the Shadow like a fully-armed harrier jet. It tore past the frantic minions and their attempts at a defence and crashed into the Shadow's face.

Its words were lost in a pained, primal scream that shook the building to the foundation. The follow-up blast ended its voice entirely. Its body slumped forward, not quite done, before the electric glow faded to black and its frame began to dissolve. The smaller Shadows screeched as one and blew through the ceiling, escaping into the night.

Minato stared at where the Shadow had been. He'd gotten close, might have gotten closer, but... He bit his tongue to keep the fierce sense of frustration down. It wasn't his team's fault. They were there to kill the Shadows, and nothing was worth the risk they would have undertaken if it had attacked while he was talking to it. But to lose his chance yet again...

He was deaf to the others calling him, and he ignored Fuuka's mental link when it was re-established. He walked to where the black muck that had been the Shadow was dropping to the ground like hot slop.

The Shadow in the tank had died the same way. He'd tried to pick up a sense of what the Shadow was thinking, and it hadn't killed him before. He knelt and touched the liquid.

It burned, scorching pain and loud ringing flashing up his arm and hitting his skull before he jerked his hand back. Feeling rushed back to his body, and his legs went weak as his nerves recovered, his balance steady in a heartbeat.

The noise subsided, and in its wake was a word in the Shadow's voice, a whisper on a breeze instead of on a storm:

"...Appriser..."

"Are you alright?!" Mitsuru-senpai demanded, grabbing his shoulder.

He could hear her. He could hear all of them, well enough that he stepped back and shook his head at the sudden shift in volume.

It was more than that though. Something flowed into him at that moment, the pain disappeared, and there was a touch of... satisfaction? Accomplishment? Were these the Shadow's thoughts? Why did it–

"Arisato," his red-headed comrade began, voice quiet. "Did it talk to you again?"

Appriser. It had called him an Appriser. Of what? Of who? Why him and not anyone else? How was he connected to them? That they were was impossible to ignore now. He was one thread in the scarf, the Shadows were the others, but how? Why? Was someone behind this?

"It knew who I was," he replied, voice dull as he tried to work through it in his head. "Like the other ones. It recognized me and was about to say something when it died."

"The Shadows spared you," she noted. "The leader didn't want to kill you? Why?"

"I have no idea, Senpai," he told her. "It was like it wanted–"

"Let's go find Junpei!" Yukari yelled at them. "We're running out of time!" She and Aigis were already heading for the door, Koromaru close at heel.

Minato shook his head, trying to clear it of the feeling that something had happened. Something much, much more than them killing something that was eating people's souls. "We'll figure it out later," he told her, nowhere near as convincing as he tried to be. "The night's not over yet."

She didn't move as the others followed Yukari. She was staring at him and her eyes were even more troubled than before. He read in them the same question that was going through his own mind:

What's going on?


"Bullshit," Iori Junpei told her. "I get that the Kirijo experimented on you, but the rest of it? Being used by the military as a weapon or knowing those people in the Diet? You're full of it."

Chidori smiled coldly. She hadn't expected it to turn out this way, but toying with him was rather fun. He seemed set on getting to know her, taking a few morsels of her past and trying to piece her entire history together from them. It was so entertaining that she'd started lying, making things up as she went. When he didn't react to the subtle things she tossed in, she got more outlandish and ridiculous. That was when he started calling her on it. "So, what?" she taunted. "You wanted to know more about me. You didn't say that the information had to be accurate."

He snorted and struggled, still on the floor. "You making it up defeats the purpose of telling me, doesn't it?"

"Not to me," she told him with a fake pout like she'd seen other girls do when they wanted something. "I was having fun."

"Glad you found it funny, but you're still full of shit."

He was still acting tough. Or maybe he wasn't acting at all and had gotten tired of being afraid of her. "Hmmm. Maybe. Maybe not. But that doesn't matter."

"Something matters to you though, doesn't it?" he asked with a calculating look in his eyes. He was trying to figure her out. "More than just screwing with me while I'm tied up like this. No one just lives for killing people."

All she gave him was a chuckle. "If there was, I wouldn't tell you. You know enough about me as it is. And you're wrong: some people do live for killing. Soldiers, hired professionals. And me. My body count's at thirty-nine."

His eyes narrowed. He seemed to think she was lying again. "How much of that is true though?"

"Maybe all of it," she replied with a careless shrug. "Probably none of it. Either way it's more than you deserve."

"You weren't always like this though, were you?"

"Neither were you," she noted, chuckling darkly. "Or do they tie you to your chair at the Kirijo dormitory? It makes sense if you're this blind and stupid all the time."

"Go to hell."

"Such words. I'm a little–" Chidori's teeth closed on the end of her tongue, stopping her words. Medea whispered in her ear, telling her that her fun with the captive was at an end. Several familiar signatures were approaching. It seemed that SEES's detector had gotten better since last time.

She went over her plan in her head and glanced toward her escape route, ready if things went badly. With a smile that sent her captive shivering, she crouched next to him and rested one of her axes on his neck, letting it have enough pressure to break the skin a little. "Sharing time is over," she told him in a hard whisper. "Your friends are coming, and I'll kill you if you even move wrong. Understand?"

He went pale enough that she noticed even in the dim light, despite his eyes hardening. "Yeah, I underst–"

Chidori reached down, her fingers biting into his jaw as she held it shut. "I don't think you do," she continued, rocking her axe blade back and forth. "If you yell out or try to warn them, you die. If you trying using your Persona, you die. If you try kicking me or cause some sort of a stupid distraction, I'll kill you slowly. If I kill them, I'll just skin you alive. Got it?"

He glared at her, a lot of anger and not very much fear in that stare. She had to give him credit; this was where most people started begging. But he kept his mouth shut even when she took her hand away. "Following orders like a good dog," she mocked, patting him on the head and chuckling quietly when he growled at her. "Now now, boy. Be nice and stay there."

She balanced one of her axes and waited. The stairs leading to the room creaked, just a little but several times, one after the other. They were here, and they were trying to be quiet.

"Just assess them," Jin had told her. "Test them, get a feel for how they operate, then get out of there. The stairs are their only way up, and they can't rush you in that place. But don't get careless. Get a feel for them and then get out. Leave Iori for them."

She steadied her breathing and stared at the door. She could feel them just around the corner, anticipation mounting while her lips peeled back in a grin.

The door slammed open, a flash of red streaking from the door to the opposite wall.

She stopped the impulse to attack. Instead she waited half a second, then lined up a shot and threw at the dark shape that bolted past the red vest that had been the distraction. The axe whirled through the air and caught her target in the shoulder, resulting in a pained yell.

Chidori pulled back when the impact registered in her mind. Something had stopped the axe from going very deep, and it hadn't felt like flesh and bone this time. Metal. Armour.

A pale hand snapped up to grab the chain before she could retract the weapon holding it in place. She tried pulling back but the person, she couldn't see him clearly, held tight.

Small feet rushed along the side of the room and she smirked. So many people in a small doorway kept them from rushing her. She threw her second axe at her first target, making him dive to the floor and let the chain go. She pulled her weapons back and turned to see a kid, not in high school yet, staring at her and raising an Evoker.

He was a child. He'd get nothing different from her.

Chidori raised her Evoker in reply, sending a blast of raw power against the boy that should have taken his head off. He pulled the trigger at just the right time though, and instead it blew him off his feet and back against the wall with a hard crack.

She released the trigger, heard it click as the hammer reset, and pulled it again. The stains would be smaller than usual. Nothing new.

A massive Persona formed in front of the kid, taking the hit and staggering as it protected him. This one was familiar, and she turned to see, of all people, Aragaki by the door.

Jin had said he'd thrown his lot in with SEES. He still seemed to know what he was doing, though the horrified look the kid he'd just saved was giving his Persona told her something was going on. Something he wasn't aware of if his hard stare to her, and not at the teammate he'd just saved, was any indication.

Her lips twitched. A bit of drama in their future? Interesting. But it was time to go.

She backed away turning for one last shot at whoever she'd hit with her axe. Her eyes narrowed and her finger pulled on the trigger.

Then his head raised, a polished Evoker in his hand, and her focus snapped. Medea cut out halfway through manifesting and what power she had summoned shielded her, for the most part, against a blast of yellow fire, high enough to not hit her hostage.

Fear. Terror. Pain. Him him him himhimhimHimHIM!

Chidori stumbled, dropping her Evoker and chains when the darkness, the pain, ripped across the room and felt like it shredded into her. Peeling her skin off and breaking her bones and putting her back together.

Darkness. Death. The end of everything.

"No... NO!" she shouted, scrambling back until she hit the wall. Her heart raced, trying to flee her body. Her breath tripped in and out, her feet stuck to the floor, and every plan to escape vanished from her mind. "No get away get away get away get away GET AWAY FROM ME!"

A gunshot and a blue glow. It raced toward her and she raised her hands. "MEDEA!" she screamed, every ounce of her power in that name.

Something hit her Persona and thunder exploded all around her, blowing her back against the wall. Except the wall wobbled. And there was dust in the air.

She opened her eyes, turned and saw...down. Street, sidewalk, and lights where the wall and the window should have been. Instead there was a ragged edge on the second-floor building, the lane below littered with destroyed glass and wood.

Medea had saved her. That blast would have killed her.

A footstep hit the floor and she jerked back, head whipping up to see the same student Jin had pointed out months ago. Back then she'd felt a darkness in him that had terrified her and sent her running for the door. It had given her nightmares for almost a week.

Now he was right in front of her. His aura, visible from summoning his Persona, was edged with something that defied any explanation. Something lethal, something black. Something that cast a shadow on the Dark Hour itself.

She scrambled to the torn-open wall, bracing for the impact and about to jump when strong arms yanked her up and slammed her against what remained of the wall. Hands fisted on the front of her dress and kept her from escaping, no matter how hard she struggled.

"Stop trying to escape," a voice, deep and feminine and hard, told her.

Chidori couldn't tell who it was or what this woman looked like. She didn't know the members of SEES like Jin did. All she knew was that whoever was holding her was tall enough to block her view of him, and that cut his influence down. Enough that she could breathe a little and just shake like a penny in a rattled paint can.

"Now." The woman's words come out slow and deliberate, sometimes tightening with her fists on Chidori's dress. "You're not going to try anything, are you?"

"No," Chidori replied immediately.

"Are you alright, Junpei?!" someone asked nearby, cutting at the cords.

"Yeah, I'm alive," her hostage replied. He was pretty quiet now. "Are you guys alright?"

"About the same as you," an older student with silver hair told him, looking at her warily.

"You can use a Persona without an Evoker," the woman continued. "Like the person who fought Arisato a few weeks ago. How do you do that?"

Chidori was confused. Anyone could do that if they tried hard enough. Couldn't they? "I... What do you mean?"

"What's the process?"

"There isn't one. It's something we do." She nodded toward the student who was still blessedly out of sight. "Just like him. Ask him instead."

"This is an unusual anomaly," someone said nearby, sounding like a talking computer. "What do these people have in common with Minato-kun? And why did the Persona-User who pursued him and Fuuka-san not exhibit the same trait?"

"Something we can ask her when we get out of here," Aragaki told them while he glared at her.

Chidori saw a familiar outline of a pill bottle in his pocket. Did they know?

The woman cut off her thoughts just then. "We're taking you with us for questioning and treatment. There will be hospital staff there, normal people who had nothing to do with what happened to you. They won't hurt you, but if you do anything to them, I'll bring Arisato to your room and leave you with him until you go insane. Am I clear?"

"Anything," Chidori told her frantically, squirming in the grip and scrabbling against the floor. It got her nowhere. "I'll do anything. Keep him away, far away from me."

The grip on her shoulder tightened, and she finally looked up into the woman's eyes. And saw red. Red eyes, red hair, a big red ribbon, and not an ounce of forgiveness or give. But they were around the same age. Was she the one? Had she been the same girl the kids talked about ten years ago?

"I didn't ask if you'd do anything. I asked if you understood me. Arisato can ask the questions, if you'd like."

Chidori seized up when he took a few steps forward, coming into view just a little. Dead eyes and a dead expression flickered with suppressed darkness, his stance unchanging like he didn't know it was there. "No!" Chidori screamed. "No no no no no. I'll do it. I won't touch anyone, won't use Medea. Do what you want to me, but keep that thing... keep it away from me."

"It? What's she talking about?" a different girl, Takeba, asked.

"She's pointing at Minato-kun," the girl who Jin had been hunting noted.

Chidori forgot her name. Yama-something. It didn't matter. None of them did. Not even Aragaki, who clearly recognized her.

Only he mattered.

"Even the people at school haven't called me that," he commented, and just his voice sent shivers of pain through the air. The world shuddered around him and even the Dark Hour bent around him like it wanted to be anywhere but near him. "I'm kind of hurt."

For him to speak of being hurt... he had no idea.

"We'll take her to the hospital," the redhead told them, still holding her by the shoulder. "The Dark Hour will be over soon and we need some rest. Iori, can you walk?"

Like loyal dogs, they'd come to collect their idiot. And they'd brought their own dog, who was staring hellfire at her and growling fiercely while the air rippled around him. Just a Persona. That was okay. It was much better than that.

"I'm fine, Senpai," he told her, rubbing his wrists and giving Chidori a look that was probably supposed to bother her. "Just hurt my pride."

"We're glad you're alright," Takeba told him, a sentiment that was echoed by the others.

"Let's go," the redhead told them, holding Chidori's arms behind her back and pushing her toward the door.

She was back where she started, back under the Kirijo's control, but suddenly it felt like the best choice. She was alive, she could plan an escape, and Jin and Takaya could still contact her.

She'd do anything they wanted, say whatever she had to, so long as that thing stayed far, far, far away from her.