Author's Notes: Not much needs to be said here, I think, other than that I hope you all enjoy the chapter. Do feel free to leave a comment about which part of the chapter you liked most. Or you can say that the whole thing is amazing. That works too. Many thanks to Firion for the commentary; this wouldn't have been as good without him.

vbarriol: A fair point, and it might be that I misinterpreted it when I used it in the chapter. That said, I believe what was going through my head had to do with how once the die are cast, there's no taking them back and whatever happens happens. Very possible I've misused it since then.

SomebodyLost: I can't comment on the ending beyond that I'm very much looking forward to working my magic on it. Glad you liked the chapter, and I will strive to make sure things remain consistent and high quality. Thanks for the review!

ChrisMSMB: Well, your wishes are answered and here is the next chapter. I do take it as praise when someone says that my work is up there with the original game, but I will bring up one small thing. You say this is "arguably" the most well-written and enjoyable P3 fic you've read. I won't stop until there is no argument, and it is categorically the most well-written and enjoyable P3 fic you've read. Cheers!

B1ackAshes: Many thanks for your reviews, and for your comments on the last chapter. I do strive to create something good, and it seems like I have succeeded. I won't address too many of your points since I'd hate to tip my hand, but suffice it to say that I have accounted for what you've brought up, and I won't be leaving them in the dust. Enjoy!

Chapter 17 - Durchwechseln

Akihiko didn't like admitting when he was angry. He'd been through enough in his life that getting angry at even the big things would drag him under if he let them. Instead of letting those feelings govern him, he used them as fuel for his exertions. He exercised, he studied, and he looked out for his people instead. Better to get it out than let it fester inside; Miki wouldn't want him to turn bitter.

But right now, rifling through Ikutsuki's office and replaying in his mind the fight at Tartarus the night before, the anger was constant. He felt rage every time he moved. Every time he breathed.

He should have done something. Ikutsuki was just a normal person, and a gun was useless against a Persona. Akihiko saw the evidence, had put the pieces together with Mitsuru, and had the same bad feeling when they fought the Shadow on the bridge. He knew they'd left it too long when they returned from that fight and found Ikutsuki gone. Akihiko had been too worried about the details to skewer the snake in their midst. Now Ikutsuki was beyond reach, Takeharu-san was dead, and Akihiko had been powerless to stop it. It was that lack of power that infuriated him the most; so much had happened in a few minutes and all he could do was watch. Arisato should never have had to fight alone. Mitsuru shouldn't have lost her father. Ikutsuki shouldn't have gotten away when he was right in front of them.

He hated this feeling, of having his mistakes dangling in front of him, reminding him what he couldn't do anymore. He'd learned to fight so he wouldn't have to go through it again. He'd given up friendships and girls to never be weak. Yet here he was. Always a step behind and a minute late. Like with Miki. Like with Shinji. Once you miss your chance to make a change, it's gone for good.

Akihiko clenched his fists. Arisato had retreated from them, sneaking into the dorm through the emergency exit and holing himself up in his room. Mitsuru had been at the Kirijo compound since she'd escorted Takeharu-san's body there. Akihiko knew he was in charge of the dorm and the others now, but every time he opened his mouth, he wanted to lash out and scream. If he didn't do something, he'd go insane. So he kept himself busy, chasing leads and getting what answers he could. He'd decided to toss Ikutsuki's office, looking for hints of the bastard's treachery. Anything that could have been noticed earlier, some hint of where he'd gone to, or information on what they were facing now.

He needed something to work with. Because if he'd missed something obvious and the answer had been right in front of him, then he could be angry at himself.

"Any luck?" he asked Yamagishi. She'd offered to help him, citing a need to get away from how quiet the dorm had become. The way she'd winced at his crashing around made him wonder if she was still hurting from that Persona Arisato had used, but she soldiered on without complaint, immediately looking into the files on Ikutsuki's computer.

"Nothing I can use," she replied. "He's got firewalls and collapsible drives in place, and if I even try to get in, they'll probably erase everything. Maybe someone in the Kirijo Group will have more luck."

"I never pegged Ikutsuki as the tech-savvy type. But Shirato's a computer genius. Could he have set this up behind our backs?"

She nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if he did. It's complex, and someone would need to know just the right passwords to get in. Considering how much Ikutsuki handled the behind-the-scenes stuff, it wouldn't be hard to sneak something in."

Akihiko ground his teeth. "Makes me wonder how far back this goes. How much did Ikutsuki know about the Shadows before we did? Was he connected to Strega right from the start? Were they just useful tools for him?"

"That there's so much security there suggests that his files are important," she observed, looking through the books on the shelves and the Buddha statue. "It could be a deliberate dead end to keep us occupied, but I don't think so. And if there are things he doesn't want us to know despite what we've learned so far, then it's probably relevant to what's going on."

"We'll have to go on that." Akihiko gestured to the bookshelves he'd been combing through. "I'm not seeing anything here that's out of place. Too much to hope for that he'd leave a journal in plain sight, right?"

Yamagishi tried to smile at his attempt at humour. "I think that only happens in movies and video games."

"Probably. But so does the mastermind leaving everything on his computer for us to read when we need it, so don't discount fiction."

Akihiko knew the conversation was going nowhere – what was he supposed to say at a time like this? – and he was saved from more awkwardness by the phone ringing next to him. He was pretty sure he knew who it was, and he wanted to blow the asshole off. Akihiko picked up the receiver, trying not to bark into it. "Iwatodai dorm."

"Yes, I'd like to speak to–"

"Ikutsuki's not here," Akihiko snapped. It was the same pompous idiot who had called four times already today. "I already told you, he left and he's not coming back."

"You're very rude, young man," the speaker noted disapprovingly in a voice that screamed soft. "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Yes, and I don't care. Stop asking about Mitsuru; she's not here either."

"Where can I find her?"

"None of your business."

"Truly, do you know–"

Akihiko snapped. He slammed the phone back into its cradle so hard that it broke in his hand. Then he threw it to the side, wanting it as far away from him as possible, but the cord tore from its socket. The phone whipped across the room and crashed against the wall, shattering in a rain of cheap plastic.

Silence filled the room, and he clenched Ikutsuki's desk. He knew he could throw it too, but he wouldn't. Yamagishi had flinched when the phone exploded into pieces, and he wouldn't put her through a display like that; he'd done enough already. "Sorry about that."

"I-it's okay," she told him, probably not sure what she could say that would or wouldn't set him off.

He himself wasn't sure where that line was right now.

Akihiko let out a breath and rubbed his face. "There's some guy sniffing after Mitsuru. Seems one of Takeharu-san's business partners feels like she should join him to make sure the Kirijo Group remains intact. Best way to seal the deal, apparently, is for her to marry his asshole grandson, who's in his thirties and doesn't know when to stop calling."

Yamagishi's eyes went wide. "An arranged marriage? That's ridiculous. Senpai would never do that."

"Agreed."

"Her father just died," she continued, becoming more indignant. "Doesn't he have any shame?"

"He paid his respects on the first call. Then he started getting pushy. She knows about it and is taking steps to tell him off, but that doesn't stop him from being a pain."

Yamagishi looked at the remains of the phone. "I don't think they'll call us on that anymore."

Akihiko chuckled, the first bit of good humour he'd felt in what seemed like months. His anger let up a little, and that let him focus on another concern he had. "How are you?"

"Me? Um, I'm okay. I'm not breaking phones at the moment."

"I mean your headache. The Shadow. The Persona Arisato used to kill it, and the fight with Aigis. How are you?"

Yamagishi shrank into herself. "Ah. Right."

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," Akihiko told her. Work was easy to talk about, but he couldn't imagine what she'd gone through when that Persona came out. It was loud and powerful, that much was apparent to him, but Yamagishi sensed these things way stronger than he did, and she'd had a front-row seat to boot. What could he offer when he couldn't begin to perceive the Dark Hour like she did? Still, he would try. "But if there's something I can help with, let me know."

She nodded and was quiet for a few moments before speaking. "Minato-kun said the Shadow showed him something, that it felt far off but coming closer. I think I understand what he's talking about."

He perked up. "Really? You can feel it?"

"Not completely. It's like..." She searched for the words. "It's like when something falls into water and sends out ripples. I think Minato-kun felt the rock and got the whole picture, but for me the water's just beginning to move. Or maybe a better way to put it is feeling the tide change without knowing the timing or the moon's cycles, so I don't have the whole picture like he does. The city feels strange now, like people are afraid but they don't know of what. Except it doesn't feel like fear, but everyone's feeling it anyway. It's constant, day and night, and none of the other Shadows had this effect. I didn't notice it at first, but now it's always there, a little more each day."

Akihiko thought it over. Abe-san at the Kirijo Group compound said that the number of Lost hadn't decreased this time around. Maybe they just hadn't found the people who had recovered, but Arisato had said that things had just gotten worse instead of better, that this was a tipping point on things, and Akihiko believed it. He filled Yamagishi in on the Kirijo details, adding, "I don't feel it like you do, but things have changed recently. The Dark Hour felt different last night, even if I can't say how."

She nodded. "I have nothing to compare it to, so I can't say what caused it, but I don't think it's a stretch to say that killing that last Shadow set things off. Or maybe, if Aigis was telling the truth, it's always been building in the background and we're only becoming aware of it now."

"I've been wondering that too," Akihiko replied grimly. "Not a good thought."

"Because fighting makes it worse, but we can't do nothing," she concluded, remembering their team talk from a few days ago.

Akihiko didn't want to ask this next question, but he had to know. "Is there any chance that Persona Arisato used has something to do with it?"

He hadn't finished talking when Yamagishi shrank back.

"It's possible," she conceded, her voice small. "That thing... it's different from any Persona I've ever felt. I don't know if it even is one, or if it's something else, but it... it's destructive. It might even be evil."

After seeing the arsenal Arisato regularly touted out, demons and angels and demigods, it was hard to pin a set morality on any of them given the natures of their Personas. Trying to dig deeper into the topic was a quick way to nowhere. But Akihiko shared Yamagishi's perspective of Arisato's most recent manifestation. "I believe that; I saw what it did to Aigis."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. Minato-kun's other Personas feel like him, more or less. He's always in control, even if they are separate from him. That one, it was its own thing. It wants to destroy everything that exists, and it–" She looked down, lips pale as they pinched together.

"It what?"

Nothing.

Akihiko approached her, stopping at a distance so she didn't feel cornered. "I get that it scared you. It scared all of us. No Persona could have fought Aigis and Palladion like that and won. But if there's something else, I need to know. Maybe we can use it to help him."

She shakily nodded. "Th... that Persona. It felt like Death. Like the Reaper in Tartarus."

Akihiko froze. They'd only encountered that thing twice, and both times they'd run. Everyone knew that it was something far beyond what they could fight, and they'd always been lucky enough to get away before it got too close. Even that proximity was enough to feel how dangerous it was. If there was a similarity between it and Arisato's Persona... Akihiko's mind raced through the implications, and the answers he came to made the situation worse. "You mean... like a Shadow?"

"Maybe. I don't know. The Reaper doesn't feel like a Shadow – it's unique to Tartarus, and I thought being there was affecting how I was sensing things." She looked away even more. "But I recognized that Persona when it came out. I felt it when we were at Shirakawa Boulevard, just for a second. And again when Minato-kun talked to Sakaki, when Shinjiro-senpai died. Little flashes, not enough to get a proper picture."

"And on the bridge, it came out in full force?"

"Yeah. There was nothing small or subtle about it that time."

The implications sank in.

She looked at him, naked fear and concern in her eyes. "If that's true... If Minato-kun's had that thing in him since back then, maybe even longer..."

"If he had a Shadow-killer in him, it explains why he could hear the Shadows and we couldn't," Akihiko noted. "Might be why we're able to kill them now, too."

"But it's more than that," Yamagishi whispered. "If he's always had it, and it's a Shadow, then–"

"Stop."

"But he–"

"We don't know that," Akihiko asserted firmly. "He's been in our corner from the beginning, and there are tonnes of people around town he's helped out. He's not a Shadow, and even if he's being carrying around something like that, he's still one of us."

She released a shaky breath. "I agree. But that thing's dangerous, and if it starts to affect him..."

"We'll deal with it, however we have to," Akihiko concluded. This wasn't the time to speculate, but more than that, he wasn't going to even entertain the notion that Arisato was the enemy. Strega and Ikutsuki were enemies. Shadows were enemies. Arisato, no matter what happened before or in the future, was his kouhai and his comrade, a friend who'd been thrown into something huge. "I'm not giving up on him, and neither are you. We'll keep going and get through this as a team. Whatever it takes, right?"

"Yes." Her answer had a hard note of certainty in it. She was clearly worried about what was going on, but she wasn't going to let it push her somewhere crazy. She might look like a wall flower, but she'd earned her place with them.

Akihiko felt a little bit normal again. Investigations that led nowhere frustrated him, but problems he could see and hit? That was more his style. He could work with answers and questions like this.

But those points raised more questions he didn't even want to think about:

What was Mitsuru going to do? Arisato's problem had compounded overnight; how was he going to pull through? How was the team going to manage from this point forward?

And with a new threat coming when they were all wrecks, what the hell were they supposed to do now?


Junpei pushed himself to his feet, finally sick enough of his room that he needed to get out of it. He'd been trying to process everything that had happened since they'd killed the Shadow, been trying to figure out how it had all gone wrong, but he was running in circles. No matter which angle he took, he couldn't figure out how Minato could talk to Shadows, how he'd used that Persona, and why Aigis had gone crazy and tried to kill him. And hearing something break from where Akihiko-senpai was going through Ikutsuki's office, Junpei knew he wasn't going to figure anything out on his own. He got dressed and went into the hallway, rubbing his face.

The dorm felt wrong. Almost everyone was here who was supposed to be, but they were all avoiding each other, and there was this empty space where there used to be meals and homework and arguments. This wasn't a silence of everyone being close but needing to study for exams or something. This was the kind of silence everyone hated but no one knew quite how to break, so it got worse.

The sensation was familiar, tugging up unwelcome memories. Junpei ruthlessly quashed them before his mind went into his past. He'd rather eat wood screws than get stuck there, and the best way to not think was to do something. There was one thing that needed doing: Minato had been in his room since he'd come back, and Akihiko-senpai and Fuuka let him stay there. But Junpei wanted some answers, and he wasn't above kicking the bee hive to get things moving.

He headed for Minato's door, and noticed he wasn't the only person who had that idea; Yuka-tan was standing outside Minato's room, fingers threaded together and twisting.

"Wassup?" he asked, deliberately light and careless.

"Do you know if he's eaten anything?" she asked, ignoring his terrible grammar.

"His side of the fridge is emptier today than it was yesterday, so probably."

She huffed, running fingers through her hair in frustration. "This isn't good for him. It's not good for Mitsuru-senpai either; when I visited her this morning, she looked terrible."

"Has he talked to her?"

"I don't think so."

Junpei scratched the back of his neck. One side of him wanted to kick Minato's ass for having a girlfriend like that and ditching her when she needed him the most. But the other side of him understood. That fight with Aigis brought a lot of shit to the surface, shit that had apparently been under the radar this whole time. And for Minato – who had been through it worse than anyone except maybe their senpai – to break down and throw down like that, it must have been bad. "Is his door open?"

"What?"

"Did he lock himself in there?"

She looked offended. "I don't know; I'm not going to barge into a guy's room."

Junpei shook his head. She wanted to know what Minato's problem was, but not enough to go in and ask. Girls were strange. "Then let me do it."

Yuka-tan looked like she wanted to stop him, but didn't as he went to the door. The knob turned when he tried it. Either no one had tried to talk to Minato, or he wasn't at the point of locking them out. Junpei pushed in, Yuka-tan right behind him.

Minato's room looked... the same. The bed and sink were still in their usual place. No books on the floor, no overturned desk or holes in the wall, and it didn't seem like anything had been thrown through the window. Junpei noticed the room's inhabitant sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed, headphones on, staring at them.

Something immediately put Junpei on guard. Maybe it was the lack of reaction, of movement or verbal response. Maybe it was that dead-eyed stare, or the grey clothes on someone who usually wore blue and black. The vibes in the room were off, like it was someone different sitting there when it so obviously wasn't. Same blue hair and eyes, even if they were bedraggled and bloodshot. Same face, but pale now. Same presence, and Junpei was sure this was the same guy he'd worked with and fought beside, but instinct said it also wasn't.

Minato was one of the toughest bastards on the team. What had happened to him?

"Yo," he began with a wave, stepping further into the room uninvited. Yuka-tan followed, also looking around but keeping quiet. "How goes?"

Minato didn't respond at first. Then he pulled his earphones off. "What do you need?" His voice was also different, less level than usual and way more depressed.

Junpei set his stance. In this situation, Yuka-tan and Fuuka would probably go soft, try and feel him out with small questions and lead in to find out what the problem was. But Junpei hated the run-around and how much time it wasted. He had things he wanted to address, and he was damn well going to do it. "Seems like some things have changed, around here and with SEES. I want to talk."

"I'm not in the talking mood."

Junpei smirked. "Yeah, I guessed that. You haven't talked to anyone since you got back, have you?"

No answer.

"I need some exercise," he pressed. "Come fight with me. You can sweat out whatever's bugging you, get it off your chest. Some fresh air will do you good."

No reaction. But Minato's breathing shook on the exhale. "This isn't the sort of thing I can solve with a fight, Junpei."

"That's fine. If talking helps, then lay it on me. Yuka-tan's here, she can listen too if you need her to."

Yuka-tan nodded, but Minato stayed silent.

Junpei decided to hit a little harder. "We're in a mess right now. Things're bad with Aigis being down and the Dark Hour changing. We can all feel it. You're our leader. Why're you in here instead of helping Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai?"

Minato flinched and looked away. He closed a hand into a fist. "There's not much I can do to help them. Call me when you want to kill Shadows, I'm pretty good at that."

"Then we'll do that," Junpei pressed, not buying into the pity party. "Let's go to Tartarus tonight. We'll find you a bunch of the big ones, as many as you need, and you can vent without worrying about hurting us. Sound good?"

"You're crazy if you think Mitsuru-senpai doesn't need your help," Yuka-tan added. "She just lost her dad. You saw how she was when Shinjiro-senpai died. How do you think she is now?"

"I'm part of the reason he died," Minato replied, his voice becoming haunted. "I could have saved him, and I didn't. I don't think she wants a reminder of that. Whatever she's going through, it's better than if I were there."

"That asshole Ikutsuki's the one who pulled the trigger," Junpei shot back. "And he might have killed us too if you hadn't fought back. You were twenty feet away. You didn't screw up, and it's not your fault Aigis attacked you."

"He died on my watch," Minato explained. "I could have healed him. Aigis wouldn't have attacked you guys; it was me she was after. I could have used that, or disabled her and helped Kirijo-san. Did you see me do that?"

"Cut the crap," Yuka-tan told him sharply. "We were there. I saw how hard you fought, how Aigis put you in that situation and what she threw at you. You didn't have a choice. You did everything you could have, and you would never have let Senpai's dad die if you had any chance to save him. Don't act like you're the one who shot him."

"I let Thanatos out." Minato spat the name. "Everything... everything hit at once. I wanted to fight back, and I let it get to my head. You saw me when Fuuka got in my way, right? That was still me."

"And you saved us," Junpei grated, starting to lose patience. This wasn't the guy he'd fought beside for months, the guy he'd strived to catch up to, someone he'd envied up to now. Where was the strength? Where was the attitude? What happened to the guy who'd shredded his own insides to fight Metis because Mitsuru-senpai got hurt? "Ikutsuki wouldn't have spared us if Aigis had backed off, and you know it. You had your own shit to deal with, and it doesn't sound like it was pretty. Something about your parents and your sister? Aigis was there when they died?"

"Yeah." The self-loathing in his voice made it clear who he blamed for that.

Junpei was having none of it. "That was ten years ago. You were, what, seven? How are you the bad guy here? It's not your fault if you couldn't save them back then. You can't blame yourself, back then or for this."

"That's not the point."

"Then tell us what is!"

Minato rubbed his eyes, making them even redder. "It's not just that they died. You're right; I was a kid, and there's nothing I could have done to save them. But it didn't really hit me before. I didn't feel anything, so I joked about it, pretended everything was okay. They were my parents, my sister, and I acted like it didn't matter. For ten years, it didn't matter and I never thought twice about it that my own family died right in front of me. Not a great look, is it?"

"It looked like you remembered all that just before that Persona came out," Junpei noted. "Did that have something to do with it? It hit you all at once, right before Thanatos came out. Ten years of that crap, along with everything we deal with every night, would overload anyone."

"Overloaded or not, you'd think it would have sunk in that I'd lost something important," Minato spat. "You know, when Minako died in front of me. And my parents. Why did it take Kirijo-san dying to make it click?"

"Was that Persona holding everything back?" Yuka-tan stepped in, probably trying to defuse the argument Junpei was about to start. "How could it do that? It's a Persona, and they are parts of us, right? Was it holding everything back because you couldn't handle the trauma?"

"Thanatos... I don't know everything about it yet. It feels different though."

"Different how?"

"Ask Fuuka," he recommended with a bitter smirk. "She hasn't come anywhere near me since I came back. I think she knows what it is."

"She probably hasn't come to see you because you're shutting everyone out," Junpei snapped. "You haven't had a shower in days and you look terrible. Try washing up and leaving your room, then see what happens."

Minato smiled hollowly. "Another Shadow's coming. Do you think it might already be here?"

Yuka-tan blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I can hear them. They talk to me, but not to anyone else. Why is that? Thanatos wanted to kill the last one so badly that it overpowered me. Why do I have something like that when none of you do?"

Junpei's jaw hurt from how hard his teeth were grinding. "If you think it's because you're a Shadow, you're insane."

"Am I? Every Shadow up to now has been tied to the major arcana tarot cards, starting from one and working up the list. The last one was the Hanged Man. The next one is Death. Thanatos is a death god, and that thing the last Shadow told me about is coming, probably to finish us off. Maybe they got to one of us early."

"That's a coincidence," Yuka-tan insisted. "You use lots of Personas that aren't tied to any arcana we've faced yet. No other Persona you have has been affected by Shadows before. If Thanatos is a one-off, then treat it like that. It's strange and there's probably more going on than we know, but that doesn't make you a monster."

"Aigis knew Thanatos was inside me," Minato continued. "She gave up when she saw I could use it at its fullest. That's why she fought so hard, and I think that's why I didn't like her at first. Might be that's what Metis felt when she attacked me. Aigis would rather kill me than let Thanatos out, and her reason for living is to kill Shadows, not Personas. Again, coincidence?"

"That doesn't mean she's right," Yuka-tan fired back. "Maybe she thinks you're Death. So what? She's lied to us about Metis, she never told you about your family when she had no reason to keep that to herself, and she helped Ikutsuki put us under. Even if her intentions were good, there's a lot she's completely wrong about. And what about Igor and Elizabeth? Senpai said that they told you to keep killing Shadows, that you were the one who was pushing everything toward a future where we win. Do you think they lied to you?"

Minato snorted and leaned into the argument – the most animated he'd been so far. "You don't think Aigis knows what she's doing, but Igor and Elizabeth do? I can't understand half the stuff they talk about, and neither could the others when they came with me."

"So?" she pressed. "Did they lie to you? What about Pharos?"

"They might not have lied, but they haven't said anything clear in the first place. Lots of grey area there. The only thing they were clear about was that I was supposed to keep killing Shadows and I'd get my answers if I did. That hasn't happened, has it?"

"Not yet," she insisted. "And that's just it. Maybe we haven't gotten to the point where we get our answers yet. Mitsuru-senpai said that there were things they didn't tell you because it might change how you acted, and that would lower your chances of winning, right? Think of it like train tracks; we have to keep going until we hit the switch and change where we're going."

Minato didn't look convinced. "Like everything up to now has been fate?"

"You said it yourself. Ikutsuki lied to us from the start, and the plans for this stuff have been in place since before we started fighting. The only thing we could do was go on bad information until we could get the whole picture. Killing Shadows might be the best, or only, way forward, and we would have made things worse if we hadn't played Ikutsuki's game."

"That came with a pretty high price tag."

"It also kept us alive. It gave us the next chance to learn about what's coming and fight back. You're acting like the fight's over because Senpai's dad died. It isn't; we just haven't gotten to where we need to yet. If we crack now, then we'll really miss the chance when it comes."

"You don't know that."

Junpei pointed his finger accusingly. "Neither do you! You don't stay down when you lose; you get back up and you try harder! Maybe we were being used, and yeah, Kirijo-san dying really sucks. But we're still in this fight, and we've won every single one so far, haven't we?"

"I'm not sure I'd call the last one a win. I'd say it was a pretty big screw-up, actually."

Junpei bridled. "Shut up. Just because we took a hit doesn't mean we're out of the game. It was a big hit, yeah, one none of us expected, but we're still here and there's a lot we can do. We can help you with that stuff about your family. We can help Mitsuru-senpai with Kirijo-san dying. And we'll catch Ikutsuki and burn him alive. But we need to work at it, and that means you pulling with the rest of us."

More silence.

"It doesn't even have to be fighting," Yuka-tan tried. "Just talk to us. Go outside for a while. Try growing flowers again, if that's what you want to do, but you can't shut us out and stay in here."

"White chrysanthemums," Minato muttered. "Funeral flowers. What you give to honour the dead. Pretty telling that I'd like them, isn't it?"

"Knock that shit off!" Junpei snapped. "Things might be terrible, but the least you can do is put up a fight!"

Minato said nothing.

Junpei forced his fists to unclench. He didn't know when he'd gotten this angry. "To hell with this," he spat, turning and stalking from the room. He almost bowled Yuka-tan over, and he slammed the door out of his way as he left.

He was at the stairs before he stopped, and he had to lean against the wall so he could vent. He hated it when people sank that low, and it got to him more than it should have. He tried to rein the fury in, but he realized where it was coming from. Not from Minato, not from the situation, but from his own past, and that made it way worse.

"Are you okay?" Yuka-tan asked from behind him, standing a safe distance back. "I've never seen you like that."

"Yeah," he ground out, trying to push everything back down. His past fought back, the memories grabbing hold and not letting go.

"Do you want to talk about it? You weren't just angry at Minato-kun there, were you?"

He tightened his fists again. He knew she meant well, but his wounds weren't the sort of thing he could share. He tried to say as much, but his tongue froze. Rationality fought with shame. "Those problems," he started, "they're not something I can solve with talking, y'know?"

In saying the words, he could relate a little to how Minato felt. He understood why the guy wanted to do anything but address the problem, and Junpei really, really hated that he understood.

She nodded, but stood next to him. "I know those kinds of problems. I felt like that with my mom a while ago. I kept it bottled up because it was no one's business except mine."

Junpei could relate to that.

"But I think I was wrong to keep it to myself," she continued. "Talking to Shinjiro-senpai helped put things in perspective, gave me a new angle on things. He was a dick about it, rude and acting like he didn't care, but he listened and asked the right questions to change how I thought about things."

Junpei winced at the name of their departed senpai.

"Everyone's a mess right now," she noted. "This whole situation's one big disaster. If you've got things you can't solve with a talk, I get it, but if it helps even a little, then that's something. I don't think any of us need to deal with problems we could get past if we worked together."

He let out a shaky breath.

"Not saying you have to. But I don't have anywhere to be."

"Yeah," he let out slowly. Maybe it was time to try something new. He'd never talked about his past. The people at school who knew and gave him the gears about it, he'd already fought with or brushed off. The ones who didn't know, he didn't want to tell. This had been his problem, his shame, for so long that keeping it to himself was second nature. He'd thought he'd kept it locked away this whole time, but maybe it needed to get out. "If you're sure."

She nodded.

He didn't see any deception in her, and even if she was popular he knew she had problems of her own. Everyone at the dorm did, and that meant she could relate.

The words came up easily, like they wanted to be shared. "It's my dad. He's just like that, locking himself up and shutting everything out. Running from problems instead of solving them. I hate seeing people like that." He looked at her. "You've been in Tatsumi for a while. You've heard about my parents? About what happened?"

"I've heard rumours," she replied. "Never put much in them. People say a lot of stupid stuff, especially if they want to make it hurt."

"Well, some of them are true in my case. My dad was big into lotteries and raffles. He always had money put aside, saying you couldn't win if you didn't play." Junpei chuckled, feeling hollow as the past arose inside him. "Might have made it worse that he was lucky more than he wasn't. He bet things close sometimes, but always seemed to come out ahead. It drove Mom crazy, but he'd take us out for nice dinners or buy her stuff with his winnings, and it was hard to see it as a problem when he kept it under control and pulled a net positive."

She nodded.

The words were raw and bloody now. "One day, he lost. Lost really fucking big on an investment scam. He said he vetted the guy, said he was sure he had a winner, that it was a perfect hedge against recession, that he could retire early and live off the interest. Mom said he was playing a totally different game, where there were no winners and it wasn't about chance or luck. She was right, but there was nothing we could do once the money was gone."

"How much did he lose?"

"Almost everything." The words were haunting with their stark reality, but anger buffered against despair. "I don't know if he really did vet the guy or if he saw tin and thought it was silver. Didn't seem real, even a week after it happened. But it was." That's when the fights had begun. Mom had always had a job, always wanted a stable bet against uncertainty and a recession. She worked hard for what they had, and she made their house a home. Clean, kept, and meals so good the neighbours always asked for recipes. That stopped when the money disappeared. "Mom was angrier than anyone I've ever seen. She had to take on another job to stay afloat, and Dad started drinking. He gave up, tried running from his mistake instead of fixing it."

"You think Minato-kun's doing that right now," she noted.

"Yeah."

"I think I can see what you mean. You'd never have thought your dad could fall that far, but he did. Minato-kun's been strong right from the start, but now he's on the same track."

"I hope like hell he isn't," Junpei shared fervently. The Iori household had gone from the envy of the block to the place people avoided like head lice, all in a few months. The vicious fights, the long silences, the separation between his parents, how his family life had devolved seemingly beyond repair no matter what he tried, it had been too much. Guys at school who heard about his problems tried to bring it up, and he'd started getting into fights. He'd cut himself off from sports and clubs he used to attend, and he stayed out at night so he wouldn't have to go home. Things were a wreck until Akihiko-senpai found him and told him about the Dark Hour. Even with the scars and the fights, even if the price tag was fighting Shadows, it was better than being in that shell where his home used to be. "That place... I'm not sure if there's a way to come back from it."

"Were there no other options for your parents? No relatives to help out or a fallback strategy?"

Junpei shook his head. "My dad's parents are neck-deep in debt. They both make huge money, but they spend it before it even hits the bank. And Mom's side of the family has a lot of health problems. Grandpa passed on four years ago, and Grandma needs a lot of help. Mom was able to send money and visit when things were good, but now that's gone too. No money, no time to help, and things go from bad to worse."

"So it wasn't just affecting him," Yuka-tan mused. "I can see why it would hit your dad hard. People relied on him, and now he can't help them. He was probably thinking of that when he was making those bets, thinking of ways to help. Maybe to not end up like his own parents, if they're like what you say."

"Even if he was, that doesn't forgive where things are now," Junpei ground out.

"I agree. If he wanted to help, he picked a bad way to do it. But I think I can understand that, caring about someone so much that it screws with you and makes you do stupid stuff." She looked at him. "My mom's like that. She took my dad dying really badly, and she's been a wreck ever since. Up to now, she's been running, not facing reality, and it's only made things worse."

He chuckled. "Something we have in common, eh? Sorry to hear it."

She shook her head, a determined gleam in her eye. "Don't be. It's taken me this long, but I want to help her if I can. It might be that I can't, but I don't want to let her go without trying."

"I can't say the same for my parents," he admitted. "I have no idea where I'd even start there."

"Right, but I think Minato-kun's stronger than that. He's in a bad place now, maybe worse than anything we can imagine, but he's always come back to us before."

"Everyone has a breaking point," Junpei pointed out. "You and I probably never thought our parents would trip up this bad, but here we are. This might be the thing that Minato can't come back from."

"That could be," she conceded, "but I think he's got something on his side. Something my mom didn't."

"What's that?"

"A lot of people pulling for him. Akihiko-senpai, Mitsuru-senpai, you and me and Fuuka. There's the Shadows and those two people he talked about before, Igor and Elizabeth, pulling at him. He's in the middle of this stuff, and he can't just lock himself up and ignore the world. It's not like there's anywhere that's safe from the Shadows, right?"

"You think we should keep pushing him."

"Yes. None of us knows what he's going through, but we can't operate without him. Seeing him today gave me some perspective, and I think we can work with that. Thanks for pushing him like you did."

Junpei shuffled. He wasn't expecting to be thanked for acting like a bull in a china shop. "Glad you got something out of it."

"I'm going to talk to Akihiko-senpai about it. Maybe he has some ideas. Want to come?"

"I'll pass. I need some air, maybe work some of this stuff out."

"Okay." She cleared her throat. "Let me know if you need to talk again. It helps to get this stuff out."

Junpei sensed she wasn't speaking for his benefit. "Yeah, I might do that. Let me know what Senpai says, if he needs my help."

"I will." She left, heading for Ikutsuki's office.

Junpei went down the stairs and put his shoes on, but stopped at the front door. The knot of anger in his chest was gone now, and his past wasn't the caustic pit it had been up to now. It was still sore, a reminder in the back of his mind where he hated to go, but talking had gotten things out, and he was glad he had. Knowing Yuka-tan could relate to his situation, that she had her own demons in the closet, made him feel less alone and more himself. And he'd never thought about his dad in that way. Trying to help Grandma by taking chances? Afraid to become like his parents? Junpei didn't know if he believed it, but he never would have thought about it himself. If there was something to that, then the man was human, so afraid of disappointing his loved ones that he'd gotten careless and taken a bad chance.

Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn't. But it was something to think about.

As Junpei put his coat on at the dorm doors, he closed his eyes in thought. "Thanks," he whispered to Yuka-tan before heading outside.


Ken wanted to think it was going to be a good day. He'd been talking with Maeda-san and Abe-san about getting better, been reading books and trying to get back into a normal routine. He'd been writing letters to the others in SEES, wanting to put his thoughts on paper and give them something more permanent than a phone call or a text message. He'd stopped trying to push his Persona out and focused on working with his spear, running, and acrobatics including tumbling and rolls. His exertions, both mental and physical, pushed him hard enough that he was too tired to dream or sink into that hole of pain and insanity that followed him. It wasn't to say that he could keep it at bay or that he was better – he couldn't and he wasn't – but exercising helped to keep his mood stable, and at least he was getting faster and stronger. Same with his school work, even if he was on "medical leave" and thus had an out when it came to his studies.

SEES needed the best, and if his prior efforts weren't working, then he'd try another angle. Abe-san had promised to push Ken as hard as he wanted, and that promise was being fulfilled. Ken had woken up sore for the first few days, but he'd gone as hard as he could, set on meeting Abe-san's goals.

When the full moon had arrived, he'd promised himself he was going to be ready for the next one. The spear felt solid in his hands, and even if the idea of fighting Shadows again terrified him, he wanted to be out there with his friends. "I can't promise you'll be ready that soon," Abe-san had told him when he'd set the goal. "But I'll help you get as far as you can." That had included mind exercises for mental fortitude, more sessions with Maeda-san, and a future meeting with SEES as a whole to get him ready. Abe-san was throwing the book at him twelve hours a day, every week worked out in advance. Ken had grinned at the challenge, understanding how Akihiko-senpai must have felt in the ring.

Then the full moon had passed. That's when everything changed.

Aigis was there two mornings later, as a patient instead of as a visitor. Her arm was cut off and her legs were broken. She looked like she'd lost the fight of her life. Ken had immediately asked how dangerous the Shadow was that could do that kind of damage. She was quiet, subdued, and she wouldn't meet his eyes – like a completely different person. She kept asking about his progress and tried to encourage him, but the support felt hollow and she wouldn't address anything directed at herself. He talked to one of her technicians outside her room, trying every angle to get some answers.

"Mitsuru-san said the details are secret," the tech had said, "but I overheard Yamagishi say that Aigis got in a fight with Arisato. If he did this, it's a wonder he didn't kill her."

Ken couldn't believe it, so much so that he'd let the technician leave without another word. Arisato-senpai had fought Aigis? Had hurt her this much? What on earth had happened?

When he asked her, Aigis said nothing. But the flinch at Arisato-senpai's name told him something was very wrong.

The same day, he'd heard that Kirijo-san, Mitsuru-san's father, had been killed. That Ikutsuki-san had been outed as a traitor.

The entire complex rippled at the news. Mourning for the chairman began immediately. He'd been well loved here, working closest with the staff at this location, and so here the biggest impact had been made. Lively lunchtime discussions were muted, the air smelled of incense in remembrance, and arrangements were being made for the staff to attend the funeral and pay their respects.

Ken couldn't believe that Ikutsuki-san had been the one to pull the trigger. That had to be an analogy, a euphemism for something else. It had to be a mistake. But Abe-san san had pulled Ken aside and explained his suspicions that went back months. Ken's lack of qualifications for recruitment into SEES, his sketchy training, how his anger had been used against Shinjiro-senpai, and how everything tied together into the breakdown that had gotten him here. Abe-san explained it all bluntly, not having the time to sugar coat anything. He'd left Ken after that, looking haggard and furious.

Ken could relate to that kind of fury. Once it all sank in, Ken could see how he'd been used as a pawn, his personal tragedy toyed with to make him into a one-shot weapon. Clearly, he hadn't been meant to make it past that night he confronted Shinjiro-senpai – Shinjiro-senpai might have defended himself, or Sakaki would have killed them both, or Ken would have ended his life right there. Regardless, his life's worth was spent and dismissed at Ikutsuki-san's whim.

What if things had been just a little different? What would he be like now if he'd run away instead of coming here? If he hadn't met his father and stepped back from himself? What had he been like to manifest something like Nemesis in the first place? To think he'd been used to the benefit of the monster who killed Mitsuru-san's father made him want to scream. He'd gone to the exercise room and pushed himself until he puked, until the staff forced him to stop. It had been the only way he could sleep.

Now he was meeting with Abe-san in his office, five days after the full moon, three days after Aigis had come here, and Ken both wanted to help and to hit something. His calls to SEES had gone unreturned, the facility felt like its heart had been ripped out, and Aigis had been put under even stricter guard while the technicians began to put her back together. Abe-san had been outlining how Ken's itinerary would be changing, how his lessons would have to be rescheduled, but the man was pausing when he spoke. He seemed distracted.

"Are you okay?" Ken asked. "I understand if things are crazy, but you don't seem well."

Abe-san smiled hollowly, looking pale and worn out. "I'd be lying if I said I'm okay. Things got turned on their head, as you know."

"Can I help?"

Abe-san looked at him for several long seconds, then sighed heavily. "It's not that you can't. Something's come up that might involve you if you want."

"What is it?"

"Mitsuru-san's asked me to pass along an offer. Your place in SEES is yours if you want it."

Ken was flabbergasted, so much so that he missed what Abe-san said after and had to asked for a repeat.

"Things have gone into crisis mode," Abe-san explained. "SEES is undermanned. Mitsuru-san is here and Aigis might never be welcome back on the team. Arisato's in no shape to fight, and Sanada's trying to hold everything together. In these circumstances, everyone who might be of help is being asked to step forward."

Ken tried to speak a few times, but couldn't. Even with the proof all around of how bad things had gotten, for him to be offered a second chance now, when even he knew he wasn't ready, spoke volumes.

"I told them that you're still not able to summon a Persona," Abe-san continued. "They've seen your records, and I made sure they understood what your situation is. It's all hands on deck, however, so this is your chance to go back."

"What's wrong with Arisato-senpai? Was he hurt when he was fighting Aigis?"

"He was hurt, but not physically. It seems like he had some repressed memories that hit him all at once, and he's dealing with the aftermath. Mitsuru-san also said he summoned a Persona far stronger than anything we've seen before, something strong enough to single-handedly kill the Shadow from a few nights ago."

Ken let that sink in. Just thinking of something that powerful made it hard to swallow. "And Mitsuru-senpai's grieving over her father, and trying to keep the Kirijo Group together. It sounds like there are a lot of problems."

"Plenty, which is why the offer's being made. I don't want you to answer yet; it's too early for this to all sink in. Keep in mind what it will mean, though. Going back to the dorm means fighting Shadows as you are now, without the luxury of a safety net. That would mean the end for you if you aren't ready."

"It also means I could help them," Ken brought up. "Even just a little."

"Maybe, but don't get too carried away there. The problems we're facing now aren't the sort that could be solved even if you manifested a Persona tomorrow. Given the circumstances, there's a limit to what any of us can do." He sighed, sinking into his desk. He looked like he was pouring himself dry, as Mom would say, and Ken had to wonder when he'd had any rest. "When you make your decision, I'll pass it on. But don't make it now. Get some rest, talk to Maeda, and really think about what you'll be walking into if you go back."

Ken nodded and left the office, unable to say anything else. He was in a fog even when he went to his meeting with Maeda-san that evening.

"Abe-san told me you've been offered your old place in SEES," the therapist commented once it was clear where the boy's head was.

"That's right," Ken replied woodenly. "He told me to think about it."

"He's right about that."

"Mitsuru-senpai and Arisato-senpai. They need help, don't they?"

"Without a doubt, but Abe-san told you not to assume that it's the kind of help you can offer. He's right. I don't mean that you shouldn't think about helping, but in situations like these, when there's nothing we can do, we run in any direction that looks like a way forward, and that usually makes things worse."

Ken shrank in his seat. He'd been thinking that himself, wanting to race back to the dorm and lend a hand. He still wanted to. "What should I do?"

Maeda-san sighed, looking like he'd aged a decade in the last few days. "I wish I had an answer."

Ken had been stuck on that question since Abe-san had made the offer. When he examined why he wanted to go back and help, he knew it was because he wanted to do what he could for the people there. They weren't just people who lived in the same building he did. They were his friends. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"How do you get past something like that? Mitsuru-senpai's mom died years ago, and now so has her dad. She has to take care of the Kirijo Group, she's in charge of SEES, and everyone at the dorm looks up to her. How is she going to manage?"

"Are you seeing a bit of yourself in her?"

Ken had to think that one through before answering. Maeda-san did this sometimes, pointing to clear examples and connecting them to Ken's own life. "I hope she handles it better than I did. She's taking care of the Kirijo Group, right?"

"Don't assume that either," Maeda cautioned. "She's functional, but only barely. Just because her threshold is higher than yours doesn't mean she can't break just like you did."

"Have you talked to her? What would you say to help her?"

"People are enormously adaptive. Biologists say that's how our species has survived so many millions of years. When you meet people who have been through life-changing events like war, amputations, the sort of things that truly break your foundation, you often find an incredible knack for resilience."

"So you think she'll pull through?"

Maeda-san shrugged. "I don't know. Of course I hope so, but there's so much at play that I can't even guess. What I can say is that every challenge she's ever faced hasn't come close to preparing her for this. It might be that this is beyond her ability to cope and that there's nothing I or anyone can do to help her. And you know how much is resting on her and the others."

Ken knew, and he didn't want to even imagine the weight she must be bearing right now. Maeda-san had told him to never quantify suffering, that doing so was a fast way to a pit of self-pity, but it still felt like what Ken had gone through with Mom and Dad was nothing compared to what Mitsuru-senpai was facing right now.

To keep his mind off of it, he went with a different avenue of thought. "I don't mean this in a bad way, but you're taking all of this very well. Abe-san looked pretty bad today."

"He's under enormous stress," Maeda-san noted. "He's juggling your case, trying to help Mitsuru-san, managing the Ikutsuki matter, and taking on even more work to help where he can. And he has a family he doesn't want to neglect."

Again, Ken couldn't imagine the fortitude it must take to handle all that. "He's amazing. Are you taking on a lot of extra work?"

"I am. Many employees have asked to see me, and their problems aren't the sort that will be fixed with a few talks."

Ken noted the stacks of files on Maeda-san's desk, some opened and spilling sheets all over the place. This had to be why he looked so tired. "Will you be okay?"

"Of course." There was no doubt in his voice.

"How do you know? I mean, everyone's in shock right now. You've never faced Shadows, right? Or gone through something like this before? Why are you so sure you'll be okay?"

That drew a genuine smile from the man. "Like I said, people are resilient. In the face of the worst, they'll find a way to pull through. Some won't, and maybe most won't in the worst cases. Mitsuru-san and the rest of SEES, you included, are facing things that would crush normal people. But even we normal people without Personas can push through, especially if we have a strong reason to do so."

Ken thought of his father, broken and so afraid of the past that he would assault his own son. Ken thought of himself, equally broken and so filled with revenge and poison that he'd let himself be used by someone else. So set on a lie that the truth had rendered him powerless. And he thought of the people he went to school with, who were spending their time playing sports and goofing around. How were people like that the same as Arisato-senpai and Akihiko-senpai?

"I don't think I know anyone like that," Ken murmured.

Maeda-san leaned over to look closer, frowning thoughtfully. "I think an example might help to make my point."

"If you think so," Ken wavered, not sure what such an example would even look like.

"I do." Maeda-san picked up his phone and spoke quietly. The exchange was short, and a few minutes later the door opened. "Thank you for coming by so quickly," he told the guest.

"I was nearby," Abe-san told them shortly, looking even more haggard than he had this morning. His tie was missing, his shirt's top buttons were undone and his sleeves were rolled up.

Ken looked at the man in surprise.

"You were asking about how people cope with terrible events in life, Amada," Maeda-san noted. "About resilience. Here's a good example for you."

Abe-san grunted. "Call me on the weekend and we'll see how well I'm doing. How much do you know about the experiments we ran ten years ago, Amada?"

"Um... only what Mitsuru-senpai told me."

"That's enough then. Her grandfather was a monster, even worse than what Ikutsuki's turning out to be. I was part of the group who tested new 'candidates'–" the word carried a lifetime of venom, "–for the experiments. Kids your age, some older or younger, most taken from broken homes. They were already ruined by life, and what we did to them didn't make things better. It was a nightmare for our best people, but I wasn't one of the best. Not by a long shot."

"How can that be? You're strong now," Ken protested. "You're handling almost everything here now, and you're helping Mitsuru-senpai as much as you can, right?"

"Right now I'm not who I was back then," Abe-san said shortly, scorn rich in his voice. "I was weak. I wanted to be noticed. I did as I was told without complaint, experimented on who I was told without question. I was working twenty hours a day to keep up with the schedule we were given, and it ruined my home life. If I tell you Kaori, my wife, had an affair, you'll know what I mean?"

Ken blushed furiously. "It, um, means she was having– I mean, that she..."

"You get it," Abe-san concluded. "Well, that happened. I found out the hard way, by hearing a stranger's voice on the answering machine. This was at a time when Arata, my son, wouldn't talk to me, and shortly after, Kotone, my daughter, ran away from home. I had been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder when I was younger, and asking Kaori to marry me put me through two episodes that sent me to the hospital. I love her more than anything, but I was so afraid of not being a good enough husband and father that I turned into a mess. That led me to want to prove myself at work, to put in more hours than anyone and take on the heaviest cases, which made my problems orders of magnitude worse. I was a textbook definition of a vicious cycle."

Ken wanted to comment that Abe-san's life was better now, that he'd talked about his wife and family in good terms before. Surely–

"I was at the hospital being treated for stomach ulcers and hypertension when the experiments went bad," the operator continued, voice flat. "That was the only reason I survived. I knew that, and it made things worse. My friends, my subordinates and my senpai, they all died. People with kids and families, people who protested the experiments and tried to stop the worst of them, all dead. I, who took the coward's way out and did as I was told without objection, survived. I thought things were bad by that point, but the work I needed after that goes well past therapy. If you've heard of survivor's guilt, then you know what I mean. If you haven't heard of it, then you can imagine what it is, and believe me when I say it's nothing you want to go through. I was on a grocery list of drugs when Takeharu-san visited me personally. He gave me a chance to put my life in order. He kept me on retainer and gave me the resources I needed to bounce back."

"Um... You did bounce back, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't. Not at first. Kaori saw what a mess I was and wouldn't believe me when I told her I would try to turn things around. Arata wouldn't take my calls. Kotone's boyfriend was exactly the sort of bad news every father fears. I was stuck between disasters with nowhere to go, so bad I was living at the hospital because the shrinks were certain I was suicidal." He let the words hang in the air. "Looking back on it, they were right. It was that bad."

Abe-san's words were like watching a train wreck; looking was terrifying, but one couldn't look away. Ken had to ask, "What did you do?"

"What I could. I tracked Kotone down when she ran off. Found her starving and freezing in an alley." Abe-san held up his arm, showing a three-inch scar from a knife. "The crowd she ran with didn't want to let her go, and I was on my own. I did it anyway; she's my little girl and I wasn't going to give up on her. It still took months of meeting almost every day before we worked things out. Arata came around for Kotone's sake, and Kaori gave me another chance on the promise of some serious counselling and a lot of changes to our life.

"I had to put myself back together, be a proper husband and father, keep up with work, and make my peace with those experiments and all the people who died," Abe-san continued, counting the points off on his fingers. "It took me half a decade of working at it every single day, and I wouldn't have gotten anywhere if Takeharu-san hadn't helped me."

That explained the fierce drive the man showed. It was worthy of a Persona-User, but Abe-san hadn't manifested anything. He was a normal man, and that made his experiences all the more powerful. "How did everything work out with your family?" Ken asked.

"Kaori and I reconciled," Abe-san replied, a soft smile fighting past his stern expression. "We renewed our vows four years ago, and we're spending our anniversary somewhere warm next year. It's in March. Kotone's met someone who isn't too much of an idiot, and my son just popped the question with his girlfriend. She's a good match for him, and she's part of why he and I patched things up as well as we did."

Ken's voice was soft, heavy with emotion. He was choked up, hearing what sounded like a happy ending after so much pain. "That's... that's good. Really good."

"It is," Maeda-san noted, "but do you see the point? Abe-san's story wasn't always good just because where he is now is positive."

"It's a lot of work to make everything go right," Abe-san commented. "When you meet a girl like that, Amada, don't think otherwise. Asking her will be the hardest thing you'll ever do, but that's nothing compared to the work you have to put into it every day."

"And he went through it all at his absolute worst."

Abe-san looked at the therapist with a knowing smirk. "Maeda's got his own story, if you're talking about resilience and going through hell."

Ken looked over.

Maeda-san shrugged, smiling a bit bashfully. "Nothing that would compare, I'm afraid."

"Didn't you say we shouldn't quantify suffering?" Ken commented.

Abe-san laughed. "He's got you there. And I thought we were being honest. Don't sell yourself short."

"Fair enough," Maeda-san conceded. "I've told you, Amada, how my daughter is expecting our second grandchild? And how my son just received tenure at the university he's working at?"

"That's right."

"My wife and I planned for more children. She was pregnant with twins when she miscarried."

Ken's brief levity froze solid.

"Late-term," Maeda-san continued. "She knew something was wrong immediately, but there were terrible complications. She nearly died in the hospital." His gaze was faraway. "She was there for four days. I don't think I slept fifteen minutes the whole time. Our children were young then, and I had to try and hold them together while we waited for news. She pulled through, but it took a lot out of her. She needed corrective surgery and months of work, and she could never have more children after the operations were finished. She wanted those twins so badly, and hearing that we couldn't try for more... I can't describe how hard she took it."

Ken couldn't imagine losing children, twins, so close to them being born. What must that be like for a mother and father? "How did you do it?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "When you were at your lowest, what kept you going? Why didn't you just give up?"

"Hope," Abe-san replied gruffly. "Every time I've ever thought that my life couldn't get any worse, I was proven wrong, and always in ways I never wanted to experience. I stopped tempting fate and tried to make tomorrow less agonizing than today, and the day after that a bit better."

"That worked?"

"For me, yes. Depression is something that keeps you on your knees and never lets you up. You don't have a future if you stay like that, so you have to work your hardest to get somewhere. Even if it was just a little bit here and there, I needed to be doing something. I needed a future that I wanted badly enough to keep going. People need to believe there's something worth fighting and suffering for, or they really will drive themselves crazy."

"I had my children and my family," Maeda-san said, "but I was much the same. I had to believe there was something on the other side of all the tragedy, even when I knew that future was changed by what was going on in the present. To do otherwise is to drown, and I knew that once I went under, I might never get back out."

Ken fought to ask the question he'd been struggling with for days. "What about now? If there's another Shadow, and if whatever controls them is coming, then things are going to get much worse. Aren't you scared?"

"Of course," Abe-san replied. "Anyone who sees what we see and isn't afraid, even on some level, is either lying or insane. Fear is part of living, though, and letting it stop us from doing what we want is the same as dying."

"I plan to live long enough to have many grandchildren and spoil them as much as I can," Maeda-san said with a soft smile. "It's possible that I might not live to see that. Perhaps I'll be hit by a car tomorrow or die of a heart attack next week. We might be living in the final days of what was set in motion ten years ago, but so long as there is a chance, then there's a reason to go on. Even us normal people who cannot fight the Shadows will still do what we can, a little bit every day until things become better."

Resilience. Drive and grit. Even on the smallest level, in the most mundane tasks, there were heroes and victims among these normal people who had suffered and been hurt, but who kept going forward. "It's the same with everyone else here, isn't it?" Ken murmured, thinking of the facility staff, the cleaners and cooks and guards. All with their own worries and dreams and failures, each one a complex person who had been hurt and persisted on, adding to the whole that was larger than the compound could contain.

It crystallized in a moment when he realized he didn't know what his friends saw when they looked to tomorrow. What were they fighting for? Where did they see their lives going when they put their Evokers away? Ken had never asked that question because he figured he'd be dead or gone before it mattered; not knowing made it easier to run away. Surely they all had their own demons like Abe-san and Maeda-san, and their own reasons for pushing forward in spite of the pain.

"Everyone has a story that will break your heart," Maeda-san replied. "My PhD instructor told me that."

"Does that help?" Abe-san asked.

"I think so," Ken answered, looking up. "Can I say something?"

"Shoot."

"This might sound lame, but what you told me about your past... It's incredible. I think you're pretty cool for going through it."

The operator's lips quirked in a smirk. "You're right, that was lame. But if it helped you, then I don't mind."

Ken pouted, and the men laughed. The moment of levity was like a flicker of light in the darkness they'd all been stuck in since the full moon. In the sound of their laughter came a glimmer of something in Ken's mind, a ripple on the pond, but it vanished when he focused on it.

Abe-san turned toward the door, waving his farewells as he left. Ken bowed to the man, head full of questions but with an answer he didn't have before. "Are we finished?" he asked.

"We are," Maeda-san told him with a smile. "Do you understand now?"

"I think so."

"What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I can to help them, whether it's in the field or at the dorm. It's probably not enough to fix the things everyone's going through, like you said before, but I want to do what I can."

Maeda-san's eyes narrowed. "Because why? Don't think that's the only place you can make a difference or fix yourself. You'll be in danger if you rejoin SEES, and you could well die and hurt them if you can't look after yourself."

"Abe-san came back to the Kirijo Group, even though his work caused him so much pain," Ken noted. "He was able to help people, back then and right now, because of that. If I can do the same, then that's where I belong."

"And the consequences?"

"I'll face them. Whatever they are." The next words came from a shaky, unstable place in his heart, but they rang with honesty. "I want to stop running away."

Maeda-san smiled. "Very good. Remember this feeling, and I think you will succeed. But make your decision in the morning."

"I will. Thank you for everything."

Ken went back to his room and laid down, too wired to rest. Though he only slept a few hours, he still awoke resolved and sure. It might be a mistake, but it was the decision that felt right.

He got up and ate breakfast, then packed his things and gave Abe-san his answer:

Amada Ken was going back to the dorm and rejoining SEES, and he would face whatever came at him.