Disclaimer: I do not own the Persona Series.

I haven't updated this in a while, (I've been busy with the demands and constraints of college) but I've been working on the project and trying to improve it. A special thanks to Mysterious Loser for all your help. :) anyway, here's my most recent submission! Please read and review and let me know how it's going!

o3.

The Ways of the Dark

It was suffocating to be trapped within the vague, grimy walls of Tartarus at night. With the ever-changing unknown and the constant worry of lurking enemies, it never stopped, and it was truly a nightmare of its own.

But for Shinjiro, it didn't go away when he drank or popped some pills.

During these times, it was real, and he couldn't wake up.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Pushing it to the limit was definitely a stupid expression. As Shinjiro sliced the last head of a cowering maya, he distantly heard Akihiko call that he'd travel ahead, and he was dimly aware of another presence as he flopped to the ground.

"Aragaki?" she said, her voice close and bathed with a hint of concern. "Are you alright?"

"No," Shinjiro gruffed, glancing at Mitsuru from the corner of his eye. "I can't take this anymore. This shit's crazy."

Castor let out some pretty defiant and unruly protests, and it was all Shinjiro could do to not whimper aloud. He curled up in a ball and squeezed his eyes shut, and he willed the damned beast to keep its power in check, though of course he didn't.

In the first two weeks of awakening to his "power," Shinjiro didn't feel gifted at all. He actually felt cursed, and with moments like curling up on the ground with mysterious monsters scattered all around him, he wished he had never been blessed with anything so fishy and shady. He wished he could be curled up in his bed, and he wished he could still be at the orphanage with Aki and Miki. He wished that everything didn't have to be so freaking insane and trippy.

As he crouched there, a soft hand gently touched the small of Shinjiro's back, but it was the following words that caused him to look up from his physical defense. "Shinjiro… You're okay. You're going to be fine."

It was first time Mitsuru had ever called him by his first name. Looking up at her, Shinjiro found himself lost in the pits of her sparkling eyes. "It's just going to take some time," she continued, her hand moving to slightly tapping his back. "The power of persona is too much for an average soul to handle. Therefore, one must be trained to work and manage it; one must get used to it in time. You've only just begun your experience, so you have nothing to fret over. Please don't get consumed with rage and shame, and please allow yourself some time to adjust."

Still staring at her, Shinjiro didn't know what to say. She was less than a foot away from him, and even without the alcohol and in the tense atmosphere of Tartarus, he felt a funny feeling stir in his stomach. He found himself staring at her hair and her skin, and the more he looked, the more his stomach jolted.

"I bet you didn't have any problems," he finally snorted, averting his eyes from hers. And in all sincerity, she probably didn't. Typical Kirijo; typical Mitsuru.

But to his surprise, the redhead sighed heavily and shifted her feet a little. "Actually, that's not true." Shinjiro's brows flicked, and Mitsuru watched him. "The truth is that I, well… That I wasn't exactly, um…"

His interest perked, Shinjiro looked up again to stare at her. She gave a nervous glance at him before looking down again. "Unlike you and Akihiko, I didn't exactly –"

Before she could finish, Mitsuru's head snapped up to stare in the opposite direction, her eyes suddenly hardening. "There are shadows coming. We'd better get moving. Come on."

"Where we headed?" Shinjiro demanded, pushing himself up and slinging his axe over his shoulder.

Mitsuru motioned for him to hurry as she sped down a hallway. "Anywhere away from here."

As if she had a goddamn map or something, the Student Council President ambled down the passage ways and then came to a stumbling, engulfing halt. They were at a dead end, and in the distance, Shinjiro could hear the slurping, oozing approach of shadows. It was either time to kick some ass or get some whipped.

"Akihiko, can you hear me?" Mitsuru was fiddling with her earpiece. "Akihiko? Akihiko, are you there?"

Shinjiro's back stiffened slightly. "It's just a bunch of static. He can't hear you."

Mitsuru nodded and then looked at him expectantly. Shinjiro brought his axe down and clutched the handle, a smirk flashing across his face.

"Alright, Aragaki," she said, her voice low and laced with a slight snarl as the twitch of a smile played across her lips. "It's time to fight."

"Let's do this," he agreed, spitting off to the side. "Come and get us, you bastards."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"You're hurt." His eyes glazing over in pain, Shinjiro looked up to see Mitsuru crouching over him, her hair dangling to the side.

"'S nothin'," he mumbled, wincing as his body lolled to the side. Laying there in the filth of some freaky tower, he was furious and enraged; embarrassed and ashamed. How could he let that happen? How did he not see the enemy's blow coming? And of course Castor didn't help.

"Stay still," she murmured, lowering herself down to her knees. Her long, pale fingers weaved around Shinjiro's side, and he couldn't help but shutter. She surprisingly had a very tender, feminine touch about her. At a glance, one wouldn't think that about her. But at a gaze, it was there, and it was real.

"What the hell are you doing?" Something hot washed over Shinjiro's flesh, and he painfully jerked away from the redhead and shoved her hand away. She didn't flinch, and she continued to burn him from the inside out with her damned, gentle touch.

"Could you please sit up now, Aragaki?"

"Sit up?" Shinjiro repeated, panting and struggling as he smoothed the sweat-infused fibers of his already-straggly hair. "What the hell are you trying to do? Kill me or something?"

"Just do as I say."

His eyes glaring into hers, he sat bolt upright. Her eyes shimmering with triumph, he let out a surprised, satisfied grunt. His previously butchered side no longer bothered him.

"Are you ready?" she asked, standing up and smoothing her skirt. "We're going to return to the entrance. Akihiko's already there."

"Yeah," Shinjiro mumbled, struggling to stand up. Though no longer bleeding and dying, he still felt a slight prick at the tender skin on the side of his torso. But Mitsuru took no heed as she swept forward, her sword perched for any oncoming attacks.

"Shit," he again mumbled, slowly trudging forward. "You're one tough chick."