Disclaimer: I do not own the Persona series.

A/N: Hi, everyone! I've finally had some time and some inspiration to continue on with the story, and here's what I've got! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

o6.

Consequence as Evidence

Girls' lips tasted really, really good. They were simply delectable. Better than beer, even. Shinjiro never thought he could even think that, but this feeling was so goddamn intense that he couldn't even function. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and as pathetic as it seems, it was one of the highlights of his equally pathetic life.

Shinjiro took in the warmth of Mitsuru's mouth and let her sweet lilac scent waft through his nostrils in the breeze of the moment. Castor was purring, which was freaky, and in the back of his mind, Shinjiro thought about what would happen and how long this would last. But he didn't care. At least until she pulled away.

Her eyes were wide, and as Shinjiro gazed at them, her taste still lingering in his mouth, he noticed how shocked and alarmed she appeared to be. She slowly backed up, and Shinjiro dropped his gaze to the floor.

Shit.

"Shinjiro…"

"Save it." Swiveling his leg to the ground, Shinjiro forced himself to stand up, though his leg screamed in protest. Waves of pain shot down the nerves of his lower body, but he held it in. "Just forget it."

She watched him hobble forward, the lines of his face etched in highly self-controlled pain, and she looked as if she didn't know what to do. Shinjiro saw her hands reach out then back again as he turned around towards the stairs. He heard her try to say something as he dragged himself away from her - and from everything.

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

There was a single knock on the door.

Thinking it was Mitsuru, Shinjiro rolled over towards the wall and hugged his pillow. "Get lost."

"Shinji." It was a male voice, and as strained as it was, Shinjiro recognized it at once. "You let me in, you bastard. We need to talk."

There was something oddly tense about his tone that actually made Shinjiro shift uncomfortably. Akihiko was an overall mellow kind of guy, but especially as of late, Shinjiro saw how innately sour and ill-hearted he could be. He'd suffered a lot back at the orphanage, and ever since Miki died, he'd always bottled up his anger and his fear. Shinjiro had been telling him for years that shit like that wasn't healthy, but of course he never listened.

And now, it was Shinjiro that had to deal with the aftermath and the release of all his negative energy. In the end, it just wasn't fair. Not at all.

But as Shinjiro prepared to prop himself up against his dresser before waddling over to his door, a curled fist ready, another sound joined the scene. Heels clicked on the floor outside his room, and another voice cut through the tension. "Akihiko… Enough. Come downstairs with me."

Her voice made his head spin and his heart skip a beat. Even Castor felt softened as Mitsuru arrived. Shinjiro could almost picture her face, which had to be pretty Goddamn intimidating, and he wondered what she would do if he were to burst through the door to look at her.

"Why?" came Akihiko's aggressive reply, and without even having to see it, Shinjiro knew how matted and morphed Akihiko's face must be. "It's not always about you, Mitsuru. Why don't you ever mind your own business?"

"I assure you that the best thing to do is to talk with me."

"Yeah? 'Talk with you'?" Akihiko's voice was beginning to sound like a shout, and inwardly groaning at what would come next, Shinjiro pushed up against the bed and leaned against the wall, wincing and preparing to get the hell over there.

"Yes," said Mitsuru, and her voice was as icily calm as ever. "You know how irrational you are when you… Get upset."

"Upset? I'm more than upset, Mitsuru." Clutching the table by the bed, Shinjiro held his breath, waiting for it. "I feel utterly betrayed."

"Betrayed?" There was a definite edge to Mitsuru's voice, and Shinjiro wish he could just get to the damn door already. "One is only betrayed when they have something worth betraying. If this is about what I think it is, then you were not betrayed, Akihiko. Nothing was ever there."

He was almost to the door! Shinjiro heard silence as he put his full weight on his good leg and made the last few strides towards the door. When his hand reached the knob and started to twist it open, he heard a loud bang, and Shinjiro felt his adrenaline start to pump through his veins.

Wrenching the door open, Shinjiro looked to see Akihiko with his fist buried in the wall and a look of profound agony speckled across his features. His eyes locking with Shinjiro's, he pulled his arm back, but Shinjiro jumped forward and sent a punch of his own flying to Akihiko's face. He tumbled over with the effort, his banged leg caving in on him, and he found himself collapsed at Akihiko's feet, unable to move with the utter pain searing through his poisoned leg.

Get up! Castor howled, knowing as well as Shinjiro that Akihiko would soon pummel him to a pulp. Move your leg! Get up!

I can't! And try as he might, Shinjiro couldn't. He tried to push off from the ground, but he only twisted sideways and fell back on his side, practically howling as loud as his persona. Looking up, he saw Akihiko holding a hand by his nose. It was blotted with red, so Shinjiro must have broken it. Just great. As Akihiko took a step forward and raised his arm, that wild, blazing look still on his face, Shinjiro closed his eyes and prepared to be murdered right there in the hallway.

But instead, he heard a gasp of surprise, and he opened his eyes again to see Mitsuru standing over him with her sword pulled out. Shinjiro had never seen Mitsuru use her weapon outside of Tartarus, and to be completely honest, he never thought he would have. Yet there she was with an air of intense seriousness as she stood between her and Akihiko, her breaths hard and fast. "Just stop, Akihiko. Please. Just stop. Even you know better than to attack an opponent when they're injured."

If it were at all possible, Shinjiro fell for that chick even more than before. Even after all the weird shit she'd been through the past few days and especially the stuff in the past few hours, she was still as fair and as pure as anyone could be, and she was sticking up for what was right.

Shinjiro respected Mitsuru Kirijo for her grace and her intelligence along with her poise and her mastery of any situation, and he realized that there was a time where he judged her simply by her family's name. He never would have thought it, but this rich girl was different. She didn't crinkle her nose at him or look down on his rugged appearance; she didn't judge him for something out of his control and completely irrelevant to who he was.

She's not shallow like you.

Shinjiro stopped just then, and he realized that Castor was right. He did judge her, but even so, she still had the maturity and sincerity to not hold it against him. That's something a lot of people couldn't do.

When Akihiko retreated from the scene with a disgusted gape on his face, which complimented the growing red blotch on his neck, Mitsuru lowered her sword and then took a step to the side, revealing her face for the first time.

It was stone white and haggard, and with a jolt, Shinjiro realized that she probably felt extremely violated and confused. He felt a pang of sorrow as he watched her struggle to get control of her breathing and her composure, and though he could hardly even lift up his head, he wanted to comfort her somehow. "Um… You alright?"

And of course she would give a stiff nod and of course she would bend down to tend to his wound, her long fingers quickly wrapping up his wound and resealing the pressure. She did the best she could before reaching out and lifting him by the chest, Shinjiro grunting as he pushed up and let her help him stand. He then fell against the wall and used it to crawl back to his door, annoyed and embarrassed at how hard it was for him.

"Shinjiro." Right as he passed through, he looked back to see Mitsuru. She was looking at him again, and Shinjiro didn't like the look in her eyes. It was soft and worried, and something about it was just uncharacteristically gentle of her. She was normally so strong and so reserved, and he wasn't used to this side of her. "I'm calling a doctor. They'll be here as soon as they can."

"Alright." Shinjiro snorted and then turned back towards his bed.

"And Shinjiro…" He heard her heels as she crossed the floor and came into his room. He felt a light hand move to his shoulder, and feeling chills erupt from the site, he waited. "Thank you for stepping in. I… Felt better having you there."

Shinjiro didn't know what that meant, but he didn't care. All he felt was that warm hand on his shoulder, now moving back and forth slightly, and as Castor whispered warnings in his ear, Shinjiro did his best to block him out.

He'd made a bold, rash move today. He'll admit it. But in the process, Shinjiro learned more about himself, and as he stood there with Mitsuru's hand on his shoulder, he realized that this might be that achingly addicting, stupid obsession that people call falling in love.