A/N: This is the chapter that has caused me to add "Slow Burn" to the AO3 tag list. We're on our way to the big boom, people! Thanks to you all for reading!

Chapter 2: Best Foot Forward

Yukari frowns, eyes on the strange blue-haired boy smiling at her. Clearly, he's able to be in the Dark Hour, and clearly he hadn't been attacked by any Shadows. Did he walk all the way here from the station during the Dark Hour? But even being in the Dark Hour is enough to wear her out, she sleeps like a rock any time that she must stay up through it.

So how can this person be here, looking all… cheerful? Like all is right and simple in the world. Either he's horribly oblivious, or scarily optimistic.

In either case, it's weird.

"Well, we certainly weren't expecting you so late. But I can admire your bright attitude." Yukari looks over her shoulder to see Mitsuru descending the stairs, making her way over to Yukari's side. Her expression is as hard to read as ever, the glacial and practiced expression of a Student Council member. For a moment, her senior's eyes flick over to her and Yukari feels she's trying to say something. It could have easily been 'don't worry,' but Yukari got the sense it was more 'don't say anything.'

The boy gives an airy laugh, "So sorry, really. There were delays on the train, someone kinda jumped in front of one earlier on. You know how it is." His smile remains easy and relaxed, despite the morbidity of his words. Yukari blinks at the news, opens her mouth to say something, but remembers Mitsuru's glance.

"Ah." In fact, it seems that Miss President-to-be herself was caught off guard by that, the mask of formality developing a minor hairline crack, "Well, I'm… sorry for the trouble." Mitsuru shifts in place, looking to the floor. If the boy realised the shift in atmosphere, he didn't react at all. "That aside… My name is Mitsuru Kirijo. I'm one of the students who live here."

Good recovery. Yukari takes her eyes off Makoto, "So, who's he?" She treats Mitsuru to a look of her own, and there's a little venom in it. She could've at least told me someone was coming.

"He is right here." The boy raises a hand again.

Yukari rolls her eyes, Oh great, another Junpei. In answer, Mitsuru gives Yukari one of her 'I-know-more-than-you-do' smiles, "He's a transfer student, as I said." Yukari resists the urge to scowl, "It was a last-minute decision to assign him here. He'll eventually be moved to a room in the boys' dorm."

"Is it… safe for him to be here?"

Yukari notices the hard edge to Mitsuru's eyes as she looks back to Makoto. Her lips turn up in another small smile, but it's like a painting on a wall. Meaningless and fake, "I suppose we will see." That's 'Mitsuru' for 'Stop asking questions, Yukari.'

Ugh. Like she knows everything.

She probably does, about this at least.

The transfer student watches this conversation, not privy to the non-verbal details. His smile hasn't faltered the entire time. Noticing the two of them have stopped talking, he meets Yukari's eyes, "So, if she's Miss Kirijo, you are… Miss Takeba, yes? Do you have a first name?"

His eyes have the same veneer as Mitsuru's, a wall which only allows you to see a certain depth. All that Yukari can glean from his expression is an oddly relaxed attitude, "Oh uh… yeah. I'm Yukari. Hey." She tries to insert a bit more energy into her voice, trying to make sure he doesn't pick up on her concern.

Even she's unconvinced.

Second time tonight.

"She'll be a junior this spring, just like you."

Makoto nods at that, his eyes trailing a little down Yukari's body as he does so. Something about his gaze unsettles her slightly, but he looks back up before she can say anything. His smile twitches, getting a little wider. Another raised hand, and his expression changes to something a little shyer, "So uh… Why d'you have a gun?"

He seems almost apologetic as he asks, his eyes flickering down to the holster strapped to Yukari's eyes. She follows his gaze and sees her hand still open, hovering over the weapon's grip. Oh. She tries to tell herself to relax, letting the hand drop behind her back as she puts on a smile. Okay, gotta come up with a good reason. How much does he know? Has Mitsuru told him anything before he got here? "Oh, w-well it's uh… sort of like… a hobby?" She damned how unsure she sounded.

The boy's eyebrows lift a little, his smile turning a little less fixed and a little more playful, "A hobby? What kinda hobby do you have which needs a gun?"

C'mon, don't get all flustered! Think of something! She gives a light laugh, waving a hand, "Oh, well, you know, it's not really a hobby but…" To her chagrin, she finds herself looking to Mitsuru for assistance.

"It's for self-defence. You know how it is these days, it's important to protect yourself." Mitsuru pats the gun at her own hip, "It's not a real gun, of course."

Not going to thank her for that. Though, Yukari should've thought of it first. She has to get better at this. Technically, she's not even lying. Tch… Guess she's got practice making speeches. But to be fair, Yukari wasn't expecting to run into someone she didn't know during the Dark Hour. Despite her disappointment in herself, she spots Makoto's shoulders drop a little at Mitsuru's clarification.

"Well, like I said, I'm Makoto Yuki. Thanks for giving me a place to stay."

"Speaking of which…" Misturu nods at Makoto, "You're probably feeling rather tired, since it's getting late. Yukari can take you up to your room."

Yukari blinks and looks to Mitsuru once more, Oh, can I?

"Your room is up on the second floor, at the end of the hallway." Mitsuru steps to the side and nods towards the stairs, "Your things arrived a little while ago, and we had them placed inside." She reaches into a pocket on her skirt, withdrawing a small key, "This will unlock your door. Be sure to keep it safe."

Makoto crouches and lifts his bag onto his shoulder, then walks over to Mitsuru and takes the key from where it dangles in her fingers, "Thanks, Miss Kirijo." He tosses the key into the air with a flick of his wrist, catching it and placing it into his own pocket.

"Takeba? If you would be so kind." Mitsuru turns her smile to Yukari, who nods awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah, sure." The junior starts making her way to the stairs, gesturing for Makoto to follow her, "This way, Yuki. Sorry for making you wait." She tries to give him an easy smile, but anxiety still jangles about in her chest. Calm down. The Dark Hour's gone for now. We're okay.

As they climb the stairs, Yukari glances behind her. His eyes are on the steps between them, focused upon them as though they were revealing some sort of secret. The smile has left his face, making him appear almost grim. Weiiiird. "So, uh… are you hungry?"

"Huh?" He looks up to her, seemingly surprised by the question.

"Are you hungry? We've got a kitchen here, but it's really just us who do the cooking. So, if you want something, I guess I could see if we've got any leftovers…" Yukari doesn't quite know why she's trying to make conversation. It just felt awkward to traipse him to the room and not say anything at all.

There's something in the smile he gives her, something mischievous and secretive, "Oh uh, don't worry about it. I ate on the way here." The smile becomes a smirk as he glances away from her.

"Right…" C'mon, think of something to say! He's gonna think you're… weird. She doesn't quite catch the irony. Her mind replays a scene of her seeing him lurking in the lobby, and her pulling her Evoker on him. Well… weirder, I guess. She inwardly groans. Talk about ruining a first meeting, "It's really only me and one of the other students who use it. Kirijo can't really cook at all. She once tried to make dinner for us, and it was…"

Bad? Lacking in flavour? Too much flavour? Poisonous? Could probably take out a Shadow? Made Akihiko take a day off school?

"Not great."

Makoto chuckles, "We all start somewhere." He looks up at her and gives the same bright smile he gave with his introduction, "I'm actually a fairly good cook, myself. I'd be happy to make us all a meal some night, Miss Takeba."

"Oh uh… that'd be nice."

They make their way down the hallway, passing a few doors as they go. Makoto looks around at them as they pass, eyes trailing on each of the brass plates that are affixed next to each room. One reads 'Aragaki, Shinjiro,' another 'Sanada, Akihiko.' The rest are all blank, "So, is it just the three of us staying here?" It was said very casually, almost as though Makoto had no interest in the answer in the first place.

Yukari shakes her head, "No, there's another student here." She indicates the door with Akihiko's name, "Akihiko's a senior, same as Kirijo. He's probably asleep by now though, so you'll meet him tomorrow." In truth, she knew that Akihiko was likely only just about to head to bed. He always stayed up through the Dark Hour, waiting for the chance to dive into a fight. He might even be listening now. "Oh, and the school's Director visits sometimes. Other than that, it's pretty much just us."

Makoto tilts his head at that, "Guess it's not really a popular dorm then." His lips take on that odd bent again. He doesn't seem to realise.

Yukari shrugs, stopping at the end of the hall, "Well, this is your room. Pretty easy to remember, right? Since it's all the way at the end of the hall?" She gives an awkward laugh, Oh my god you sound so stupid uuuugh, shut up shut up!

"Oh, yeah. But if I get lost, you've gotta promise to help me," He grins, taking the key out of his pocket and heading for the door.

"Right… Oh and make sure you don't lose that." She nods at his key, "If you do, you'll never hear the end of it from Kirijo." Yukari watches him turn his back to her. Should I ask? If he knows anything, it'll be the easiest way to find out. But if he hasn't mentioned it… She scowls momentarily. If she asks and he isn't thinking about it, would it make it more suspicious? Whatever. "Any questions?"

Makoto pauses and glances over his shoulder, giving her a long look, "Questions? Sure… Who's that kid, downstairs?" There's something in his eyes which makes the question seem more ominous than it sounds.

"Mitsuru…?"

"What? No, the kid." He turns and levels a hand just below his chest, "About yea high. Really blue eyes. Kinda creepy."

What the hell is he talking about? "Uh…" Wait… She feels her eyes widen, Wait, did a Shadow sneak in? B-But I didn't see anything! Her hand twitches towards the Evoker again, but something brings her pause, No, that can't be possible… If it was a Shadow, Mitsuru would have sensed it. Right?

"Uh… Miss Takeba? You okay?"

So, not a Shadow… A small kid… Something in the back of her mind whispers the word 'ghost.' She feels a chill creep across her skin. No way. No. Way. There's no such thing as ghosts. No such thing.

"Miss Takeeeebaaaa?"

Yukari blinks, focusing on Makoto's hand, which is waving back and forth in front of her eyes, "Oh uh… what?"

"You good? You kinda spaced out there." He gives her a half-smile, eyes betraying his concern with just a hint of judgement.

"No, I was just… thinking." She shakes her head, "I-I don't know what kid you're talking about. You're probably tired or something."

"Sure… I guess." He shrugs and turns back to the door.

I gotta ask now, or I won't have a chance!

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

She thinks she catches a low sigh from the transfer student. He turns again, and she takes half a step back. There pleasant smile and gentle look had gone, replaced with irritation. But, in a moment, it swaps back again, and his gaze is soft, "Sure, Miss Takeba. What's up?"

Now or never. "On your way here from the station… Was everything okay?" She tries to hide the implication between the words. If he recognises that they were both in the Dark Hour, surely, he'd ask her about it, right? Or at least talk about it. The world fills with coffins! Water is blood! Who wouldn't want to talk about it?

Makoto raises an eyebrow at that and frowns, placing his chin in his palm. "On my way here… Hum…" He rubs at his chin, holding the hum thoughtfully, looking off into the ceiling. It goes on for far too long, and Yukari is about to tell him it doesn't matter, when his eyes flick down to meet hers. That glint returns to them, "Nope. Nothing worth mentioning."

"Oh." Did he really not see anything? He must have! "Are you su-" Mitsuru's warning glance comes back to her. "Uh… I see. Well, never mind then."

She takes a breath and shakes her head, If he doesn't want to talk about it then… fair enough, I guess. "Look, I'm sure you've got other questions, but can we leave them for later?" A yawn crawls up her throat and escapes her, "I should head to bed."

Something like relief crosses his face for the barest second. Makoto nods, "Sure thing, Miss Takeba. Sleep well, yeah?"

"Yeah, you too. I'll come get you in the morning, okay? For school. Make sure to be up on time."

"You got it. G'night, Miss Takeba. Sorry for all the trouble." He gives a slight bow, turns, and unlocks the door. As he steps in, Yukari turns away, not catching him giving her a steely glare out of the corner of his eye.

Okay, that was weird, but he doesn't seem… bad. He even seems a bit nice. Just… weird. Yukari rolls her shoulders, working some of the anxious tension out of them. It had been a long night. She makes her way for the stairs, thinking over the meeting. He's… got a nice smile. As she reaches the landing, sounds from downstairs catch her ear.

"- for waking you, Chairma-"

Mitsuru? Yukari takes a couple steps back down to the first floor, trying to listen in. She leans to see under the ceiling, spotting Mitsuru standing by the doors to the dorm. In her hand is a sleek looking mobile.

"Yes, he arrived not lo-" She's turned away from Yukari, making it hard to make out what she's saying. Yukari takes a few more stairs, straining her ears to here. Her heart leaps out of her chest as one of the boards creaaaak under her foot. Crap! Mitsuru turns to look up the stairs, spotting Yukari quickly standing and trying to look casual. "Yes, I'll call you again in the morning, Chairman. Good night."

Yukari runs her fingers through the ends of her hair, taking a few more steps down. "Kirijo."

Mitsuru gives Yukari a tired smile and inclines her head, "Takeba. Is he in his room?" She looks down and taps a few buttons on her phone before returning it to her pocket. Yukari couldn't quite tell for sure, but it was almost definitely one of the newest models. Tch.

"Yeah, he is." She looks back up the stairs, in the direction of Makoto's room, before starting to walk down them, "You could've told me he was coming today, you know?"

"I'm… sorry?" Mitsuru blinks, crossing her arms under her chest. She isn't putting up the perfect alabaster mask of the high-school heiress. Instead, she just looks tired.

"You could've said something, senpai. Especially since you put me on guard for the night." Something bubbled up inside of Yukari. Maybe it was just the stress from earlier in the day, but it was cruel and wanted to lash out, "I thought he was a Shadow or something!"

Her senior closes her eyes and rubs the bridge of her nose, "I'm sorry, Takeba. I am. Honestly, I expected him tomorrow since it was so late." She gives Yukari something approximating an apologetic look. It would look more genuine on someone else's face, "It really was a very last-minute decision by the Chairman. I hope you weren't too surprised."

She means 'frightened.' "I'm fine, Kirijo. Not that yo-" She cuts herself off. It's not worth the trouble.

"Good." Mitsuru takes a breath and nods towards the ceiling, "So, what do you think?"

Yukari shrugs, "He seems nice, I guess. A little weird."

Mitsuru lets out a chuckle and nods, "Well, we shall see. He's certainly unique, from what I've read."

Read? "So, are we going to talk about how he can be in the Dark Hour?"

"That's why the Chairman wanted him moved here." Mitsuru steps across the room, heading for the stairs, "Judging by conversations with professionals, it seems he is no stranger to the Dark Hour. With Tartarus so close, the Chairman felt it would be best to have him here. With us."

With Persona users. Right. She recalls being in the bathroom and feels the cold kiss of her Evoker's barrel against her forehead. Not that I really count. Yukari steps to the side, letting Mitsuru climb the stairs. "Wait, so he knows about the Dark Hour then?"

"We don't quite know the extent of his knowledge. But he's certainly been conscious of it." The senior sighs, "We don't really know much outside of that." As she passes Yukari, her eyes meet her junior's. There's some warmth hidden in the tiredness within them, beneath the ice, "The Chairman will be here in a few days. Would you mind waiting until then to be filled in, Takeba?"

Yukari shrugs, "I guess." Not like she would tell me now anyway. "Night, senpai."

"Good night, Takeba."

Makoto closes the door behind him and falls against it limply, letting his bag drop against the floor. He waits until he hears Yukari walk away before letting out a long groan. "Ohhhh my goooooooood." He covers his eyes with has hands and lets the Ordinary Face melt off his skin. "They would not. Stop. Talking." He shoots a glare at the door, in the general region of Yukari. What was with all her questions? And what is she doing in my hidden hour? Hell, what about that other chick?

He grits his teeth, lifting himself off the door. Still, learnt a bit at least. He took a moment to reel through the events of the night, particularly those within Iwatodai Dorm.

One, Yukari does not like Mitsuru. Bad blood there, past disagreements? Maybe she's into her? Maybe it's mutual and they hate each other? Mitsuru wasn't exactly warm. The shared looks, the bite to Yukari's words. It spoke for itself, really. It wouldn't be too hard to turn them against each other, probably. Something to remember.

Next, the guns. They're lying. Or at least, Yukari is. A hobby? Unless she's a hunter, she sucks at lying. What kind of hobby could you have in a city that involves guns, other than murder? A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. A potential partner in crime? At least, they both know where to get realistic looking guns. That could be good to know.

The memory reels forward to climbing the stairs with Yukari. The image of her slipping, stumbling, and crashing into the step, head first. Thump, thump, thump as she falls down the stairs, landing at the bottom, right in front of Mitsuru. The senior would shriek, calling for help. Makoto would be shocked, and they would both watch as Yukari's blood began to pool under her, staining the whites of her staring eyes.

Something clawed at Makoto's insides. He couldn't tell if it was disgust, or delight.

It was probably both.

Moving on. All the questions. She didn't know about that weird kid. So, I must be going even more crazy than I already am. He barked a dry laugh, Didn't think I'd ever get to hallucinations.

Time delivers us all to the same end. Might be something to that. Some of us sooner than others.

Yukari knows more than she's letting on. About me? Or my hidden hour? He looks up to the ceiling of the room, just about making it out in the darkness. What if this is a set-up? What if they know everything, and are just waiting for someone to come cart me off to a facility for people like me?

Unbidden, he yawns, and his muscles slacken. I can speculate more later. If it happens, it happens. I gotta get some sleep.

He fumbles around near the door, his fingers eventually catching on the light-switch. With a click a ceiling fixture blooms a warm glow and Makoto blinks until his eyes adjust. He casts a look across the room which will be his until the end of school, his death, or his removal to a facility. Whichever comes first.

His first impression of the room is… passable. Better than his last room, which had been little more than a hole in a wall with just enough space for a futon. The owner of the house had said that he should consider himself lucky to even have that much, before tossing his belongings in an entirely separate part of the house. Makoto scowled as the memory managed to fight its way out of the tarpit of repression.

Still, this place wasn't bad, really. Not too small, spacious enough. Three exterior windows, all currently covered by deep blue curtains. A simple rug on the hardwood floor, some currently empty shelves attached to the pale cream walls. A desk stands against the outside-facing walls, Probably a good place for my laptop. Or maybe studying. Makoto pulls a face at the thought.

As far as appliances, the room was pretty bare. Another boxy television on a small stand in the corner. Makoto couldn't tell if it was plugged into a satellite, but hey, it's 2009. This place should have some sort of modern technology. Makoto steps a little further into the room, noting a small refrigerator next to a sink and a mirror. He gives the mirror a sharp look before his eyes drift over to the bed.

It looked soft enough, but his eyes were more drawn to the collection of cardboard boxes both on and around it. There were four in total. Those, plus the few items in his bag, were all his earthly possessions. He eyes each box, noting the one marked 'Clothes,' the next marked 'School stuff' and the third marked 'Miscellaneous.' That one contained a few decoration pieces from previous houses. A lamp, calendar, some cushions. Nothing major.

The last box had black masking tape sealing it four times over, long strips closing each edge, looping around and around. On what little cardboard remained visible were scrawled the words 'Do Not Open!' Makoto twists his jaw. This was one of the boxes where the contents hadn't changed from the day it was closed. He walks over to the bed, hefts up the box and places it onto the floor. At least they listened to the sign.

"Where to put you…" Close to the door, one of the walls has a closet set into it, with a large sliding door. Perfect. With his foot, he slowly pushes the box across the floor and opens the closet. The stale scent of dust and mothballs leaks out. Note to self, buy an air freshener. He shoves the box into the bottom of the closet and closes the door. As far as he is concerned, it can stay there until the next time he moves.

Why do I even bother keeping it…?

A part of him knows the answer to that. A small, quiet, hopefully part of him. That part usually goes ignored.

He looks to the other boxes, then heaves the one remaining on his bed onto his floor. "I'll sort you all out tomorrow," he states, fighting through another yawn. "Speaking of…" He heads back to the door and takes up his bag, setting it onto the chair near his new desk. The laptop and its cables are placed on top. Then, out comes a black outfit bearing a crest on the left breast. His new school uniform. It's a little wrinkled from being shoved into a bag and carted about, but it's not like anyone would care.

Next, out come a few more outfits, a bottle of saline and a lens case, his phone charger, the charger for his MP3, a spare set of headphones. A warm winter scarf, a scrappy looking notebook, which is set next to the laptop. Too tired to write into that. Later, maybe. A length of rope follows, and lastly, he extracts a few packages of sweet treats with a grin. Ah, it's the little things. Reaching in, he takes out a hard candy and unwraps it, tossing it into his mouth. Strawberry flavoured… nice.

As he sucks on the sweet, he wanders over to the mirror. Let's see… He leans forward and runs his hand through his fringe, lifting it to see the very base of his hairline. He squints and reaaaaally peers close. For a moment he thinks he sees a little discolouration near the bottom of the hairs, right against his skull. But no, must just be the light. "Still…" Another thing to add to the shopping list.

Makoto reaches over the lens case and solution on the desk, placing them near his sink. Right. Time for the fun part. He opens the case and fills each divot with just enough solution. He washes his hands, then reaches his fingers up to an eye. Despite doing this so often, a part of him still wonders about what could happen if he slips, or just applies a little too much pressure. Would he lose his vision? Could he dig right through to the back of the socket?

Not right now. Even so, his heartbeat picks up as he delicately plucks each contact out of his eyes, then blinks at the slight sting. He drops the contacts into the case, one at a time, then carefully seals them up. The first time he'd put them in, he hadn't taken them out until he woke up the next morning, and that… that was a mistake. For days after that he felt like his eyeballs were itching and scraping against his eyelids. Never again.

He splashes some water into his face, dries it off and glances at the mirror for just a moment. Makoto feels his stomach tighten and rumble, his heart beats even faster and a cold fire began to burn in his gut. His skin prickles and burns, and he starts to feel something dig into him, like needles or knives. Something in the back of his head tells him to reach up to his eyeballs and pluck them out, crush them and pour the goo into the sink.

He tears his eyes away from the mirror. Every time. Exhaustion washes over him as he changes into his nightclothes, then switches off the light. With each movement, his body calms, each sensation being replaced with another wave of tiredness. The last thing he does before settling into bed is to lock the door and rattle the handle to really make sure it won't be opening.

With that, he flops underneath the covers and cocoons up, closing his eyes. Sleep descends on him, a heavy weight upon his chest. As his breath begins to slow and the tension leaves his body, he can almost hear the softest thrum of music. Something slow, and sweet, and peaceful. Strings that promise sorrow and success in equal measure. His headphones lay on the small surface behind his bead. The music drifts through his mind, interrupted by only a single thought.

You can't plug your ears and cover your eyes?

Well, I sure as hell can try.

And so, the darkness takes him. But only for now.

A/N: Thank you once again for reading, everyone!

I know this chapter went on a little overlong, so I do apologise for that. The next few days should be able to be wrapped up in the next chapter, and then we've got the fun stuff coming!

All the same, hopefully you enjoyed this update. As always, your comments and reviews are welcomed and appreciated!

Love,

Avalon