Disclaimer: I do not own the Persona series.

A/N: Hi, everyone! Here is another chapter. Thanks for reading!

o7.

Moonlit Mayhem

Fire erupted from his body as he threw her to the floor and towered over her, looking at his reflection in the pits of her amber-brown eyes. A growl sounded from his throat as he bent down and ripped at her clothes, revealing and gazing at her until he couldn't take it anymore.

The green radiance of the moon winked at him from the window, and Shinjiro felt his insides squirm and his desires falter as he stopped to truly look at her. Red hair was sprawled on his carpet and her clothes were shredded carelessly all around her. Staring into her eyes, he saw how frightened they were, and staring even closer, he saw how mad and wicked his reflection was.

Turning away, he fell onto his bed and punched the frame, Castor howling back with defiance. He buried his face into his pillow, covered his ears, and willed himself to sleep and to escape.

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

He had to leave; he had to get the hell out of there.

One week had passed, and it was the absolute worst week of Shinjiro's life. It was the start of the second term at school, but he hardly even went to school these days. He'd managed to barely scrape by last semester with mandatory remedial work and tutoring from Mitsuru, but now, he didn't want to think or feel anything.

His leg, meanwhile, was doing better. The poison had left his system, but his leg remained stiff and still ached whenever he put pressure on it. He refused to step foot in Tartarus, though he doubted Mitsuru and Akihiko had gone the past couple weeks. Akihiko brooded around all the time and only came back to the dorms for dinner and sleep, which kept him well away from Shinjiro and Mitsuru. Shinjiro too had become more of a recluse as he ate alone and stayed shut up from the world, afraid of Mitsuru and afraid of the damn butterflies that erupted in his stomach whenever he saw or thought about her.

It was partly that which made him feel so lost as he grabbed his coat and stumbled out of the dorm, feeling chilled at the crisp September air. It was eight o'clock, and the sun was gone and the moon omnipotent as it leered over at Shinjiro, taunting him. Trying to ignore Castor, who was whispering incoherent shit in his ear, Shinjiro set off towards the shrine, shoving his hands in his pockets.

It wasn't so much that he hated himself. He wasn't overly fond of the shit he'd done and the complete freak that he'd become, but it wasn't like he always had a choice. Indeed, Shinjiro hated the way he felt about certain things and certain people. He knew things happened and that you reacted to them, and it really was all about the reactions. He had a hard time admitting his deepest, most sacred feelings, and when he finally did, he didn't know how to handle it. He didn't want to handle it.

Pausing by the playground, Shinjiro looked up at the moon and sighed. It was waning, and that was good. The shadows were the worst when the moon was full, and he knew that he'd have to give it his all during that time to help the team keep things at bay. He sat down on a swing, his jeans chilled by the cool plastic, and he continued to stare straight ahead, getting even more lost in his train of thought.

"Shinjiro?"

Snapping through his thoughts, a figure came out from the side of Shinjiro's vision and stood beside the play set, waiting. Looking up at it, Shinjiro felt his insides grow warm and squirmy as he recognized Mitsuru. She was staring back, and she was wearing jeans and a slim-fitting black pea coat.

He didn't say anything and merely looked away, trying to push down Castor as the bastard began to whisper louder. He heard movement and sensed Mitsuru sit down on the swing beside him. "I think we should talk."

He'd known this was coming, but that didn't make it any easier. Mitsuru wasn't one to leave things hanging, and she was so blunt and professional that he couldn't even blame her. He'd purposely been avoiding her to save himself some embarrassment, but the fact that she'd followed him here made him feel both trapped and secretly elated. "Yeah. I guess so."

He expected her to plunge right in and report her intentions and her feelings and to straighten everything out, but instead he heard her sigh. Risking a glance at her, Shinjiro saw her gazing at him with soft, troubled eyes, and the sight made him turn around and directly face her. "You okay?"

"No," she said. She moved a strand of hair behind her ear. "Everything has been so dramatic and much too intense. I'm afraid that it's interfered with our work and our mission, and I can't allow that."

It was true, Shinjiro knew. Akihiko now hated Mitsuru, and Mitsuru now didn't really talk to anyone else in SEES. She certainly couldn't handle the shadows alone, so it was a rough situation.

"It's clear that both you and Akihiko have… feelings for me." Shinjiro felt himself wince. "That's brought about some tension, and that tension needs to stop. Everyone is entitled to feel the way that they do, but there's no need to lament over how others feel. You can't control that. So you and Akihiko must talk about it immediately and prepare to get back to training."

What the fuck did that even mean? Staring at her, Shinjiro marveled at how she was able to dance around such a sensitive subject with such grace and such ease. She kept her personal feelings out of it, which Shijiro could already guess and infer, and she really was trying to do the right thing. "Try telling Aki that."

"I have," Mitsuru continued, that troubled look returning. "He won't listen or respond to me, so that's why I'm leaving it up to you."

"Me?!" Had Shinjiro heard her right? She had to be pulling his leg. "I don't think that's a very good idea, Mitsuru."

"I think it's excellent," she countered, her gaze now sharp and stern. "It's you two who are acting this way, so it's you two who are going to fix it."

"Not gonna happen," Shinjiro mumbled, turning away. She didn't understand. "You know as well I do that Aki's an asshole who won't admit that he's done anything wrong."

As she continued to stare at him, action in the distance distracted her and caused her to look away. Shinjiro heard footsteps, and he then heard a loud, slurred voice. "Hey ginger, what are you doing over there with that sleeze?"

Looking up, Shinjiro saw a group of guys approach them, all holding cheap beer cans. There were four of them, and after a second, he'd recognized them as the bums that hang around the alley behind Port Station.

"You need to get outta here," he mumbled to Mitsuru, standing up.

Her eyes quizzical, she too stood up and gazed over at them. "Why?"

"These fleabags are scum and will probably hurt you." They were getting closer now, and Shinjiro felt his fists curl up.

"Ooh, trying to play hero now?" one of them called, his voice slurred. "Don't pretend like you don't know us. We see you hanging around the bar when you're supposed to be at school. You're no better than the rest of us!"

"I would strongly advise that you all exit the premises immediately." Everyone stopped as Mitsuru spoke up, her voice firm. "And I would also advise you to never speak to either of us again."

"You're full of yourself, aren't you, babe?" The guy nearest to them took a step forward. "I kind of like a girl who fights back. You guys think she'd bite?"

"Mitsuru…" Shinjiro's voice trailed off in a growl, and for the first time in a long time, he felt genuinely scared. He knew both he and Mitsuru were strong, but they didn't have their weapons, and they were outnumbered by half. It didn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together, and as the group edged even closer to them, Shinjiro took a deep breath. He was ready.

"I will not warn you again." Mitsuru's voice was even sharper now, and when the guy on the right walked right up to her and put his hand on her shoulder, it all started.

Mitsuru twisted back his arm and kicked him in the stomach, and Shinjiro tackled a guy running toward her and pounded him to the ground, giving his face an extra punch. He then jumped up and swung around to the next guy, but he missed and lost his balance before receiving a blow to his head.

Mitsuru was weaving in and out from the first guy's grasp, and she was doing her best to scratch and kick him. Shinjiro knew she felt out of place without her sword, but he gave her credit for fighting her hardest regardless. In fact, she did a good job of holding the first guy up so that Shinjiro could move over to the next two. He charged at one and grabbed him by the back of the head, and when his friend came up from behind him to grab his jacket, Shinjiro turned around and used his victim as a shield.

After another few minutes, the drunken guys started to back up and hide their faces, and they soon turned around and fled, tossing cuss words behind them. Shinjiro instantly turned to Mitsuru, who was bent down slightly as she caught her breath, and he then turned his attention down to his own body.

His leg killed, and as he stood there and felt his legs start to wobble, he knew it was coming. His eyes found Mitsuru's, and in an instant she was there, supporting him. "Are you alright?"

Her lips were right next to his ear, and he let the warmth comfort him. He grunted as she helped him back towards the swing, and he almost cried aloud as he collapsed back down. Her long fingers ripped at the hole in his pants to reveal his reopened wound. It was starting to ooze that disgusting purple shit, and as Mitsuru glanced around her and pulled out her evoker, he put up a hand, stopping her.

"Why do you always do that?" he asked, watching her as she paused and stared at him. "You're always running around trying to save the day. How come you don't just let someone else deal with it?"

He'd been wondering that for a while now, but of course he'd never asked her. Castor let out a strange sort of gurgle at Shinjiro's question, but as he ignored it and willed his persona to chill out, Shinjiro waited for her response.

"I guess I don't know," she finally answered, letting her evoker fall to her side. She was still kneeling next to him, but now she was looking at him more closely than she had before. "I suppose I feel that no one else will do it if I don't."

And that made sense. It really did. Mitsuru was one of the bravest, most dauntless leaders Shinjiro had seen, and he doubted that a good majority would indeed drop everything to help one of their teammates the way she did. She was so kind behind her wall of formality and power, and with a jolt, Shinjiro realized how privileged he must be if he's able to see that.

"That's what I like most about you." His voice was quiet, but he was looking right at her. "A lot of people might call you pretty or drool over your money and your smarts, but not me. You're a really good person, Mitsuru. Your heart's in the right place."

And at that she smiled, gazing into his eyes. Shinjiro returned the gesture, and after a few moments, Mitsuru stood and offered her hand. "I appreciate that, Shinjiro. Now if you can manage it, let's get back to the dorms to get your medicine."