Whew, I'm glad to see that this fic ain't going in the pits. I thought it would, but I am just very glad that it didn't. :D
Anyway, thanks for all for your reviews, everybody. All of your support has been really motivational. And thank you to those of you who pointed out the spelling mistakes, I had just fixed them. Everything is touched up. . . Hopefully.
Anyway, here is the new chapter, from me, to you. Please, enjoy! Sorry it came late! I just got back to school! It's very time consuming! Please don't pelt me with apples! Now lets get this chapter rolling!
Disclaimer: Persona ain't mine.
~Chapter Two: To that of Which Cannot be Seen!~
He swore that the bandages that wrapped around his torso were going to kill him first before the bullet wounds did. But he didn't care. He didn't care about the pain in his chest as he was scaling the steps that Gekkoukan High had. He didn't care that his peacoat was snagging and nearly flying off his shoulders, or how some of his hair was sticking to the nape of his neck. Running and running, he grabbed the hand railing of the last steps and swung himself over, landing on the top step.
"Shinji! Wait up!"
He could hear Akihiko, and he could hear everyone else's calling voices. They all wanted to see them to, as it seemed. Shinjiro knew they care. After all, they had just gotten back their memories of what had happened. Even when he was in the coma, he remembered everything that morning, a week after he woke up, and he had snuck pass the doctors and nurses of the hospital, knowing that he had to get to the top of the school.
Yanking open the door, he ran all the way where he could make out three people. Aigis was always recognizable. But the two next to her had more memorable appearances.
At same hieght, skin-tone, and similar facial structures, the twins differed. The boy had a pair of cat-like, midnight-blue eyes that usually held haunting expressions, his hair a shade lighter than his eyes. Shinjiro knew that this guy was weird. But in any sense, he and the blue-haired boy were close. Close like brothers, like he was with Akihiko.
The girl laying beside him was another case.
Her eyes were the color of maroon gerbera daisies, and they were already closed half-way, similar to her twin's. Her hair, usually tied in it vibrant-brunette, high ponytail, was undone and spilling over her shoulders, the white barrettes that formed the Roman numeral twenty-two on the side of her head were now piled up near her lap. The twins' headphones, one of blue, another of red, were held together in their intertwined hands, content smiles on their faces.
When he finally made it to them, the boy gave a slight smile, nodding his way.
"Good-haw~" The boy paused, having a large yawn before going on, "Good morning, Shinjiro-san. I'm glad to see that you're healthy." he said kindly.
"Y-Yeah," Shinjiro felt tongue tied, and he had no idea why, "Good to see you too, Minato-san." he said. Minato smiled at him again, before he looked at the girl and nudge her side slightly with his shoulder.
"Mina. Minako, there's someone here." he whispered gently. Minako gave her own yawn, and her hazy red eyes looked up and instantly lit up.
"Shinjiro-senpai."
He couldn't control his actions. Once Minako had whispered his name, he knew he lost it. Shinjiro dropped to his knees and gathered Minako in his arms, holding her tightly and shutting his eyes and his face buried in the crook of her neck.
"Senpai? . . . Hm~" Mumbling softly, Minako nuzzled her head to his shoulder, smiling softly, "I knew you were alive. Thank you. . ." She gave a muffled yawn, her thoughts turning as warm as lukewarm milk, "Thank you for. . . For being alive. . ."
He embraced her tighter, so tight that he knew it would probably hurt her. But he knew it didn't hurt her. She and her brother were becoming lighter and lighter by every second.
"Minako. . ." He gave a shuddered breath, before smiling with a little sadness, something wet stinging his eyes, "Don't make a sick guy push himself too hard. It's. . . pretty pathetic of me to forget the way I did. . ." His eyes caught Minato's over Minako's shoulder, and the brother smiled before nodding slowly, as if giving his blessings. Holding back another breath, Shinjiro leaned forward, his slightly chapped lips kissing Minako's forehead, his nose brushing her auburn bangs, "But even then. . . My feelings for you were the same as always. . ." Pulling away, only to look face-to-face with the tired girl. Shinjiro fitted the bridge of his nose with her's, his usually cold eyes holding immortal devotion, "Heh. . . I got one thick-skull huh?" He asked.
"Y. . . Yeah. . ." Minako, her own eyes suddenly turning glassy with familiar tears. Though they weren't of sadness. They were of nostalgic remembrance.
"I want to tell you something," whispered Shinjiro, his thumb brushing under Minako's eyelid, taking away the tear, "The girl I saw in my dreams. . . It was you. . . You were crying, and laughing like usual," Laughing the slightest, Shinjiro leaned back, his free hand now supporting Minako's head with his other arm wrapped around her waist. She was feeling so light, almost feather-like. He held her more secure to his chest, his hand now moving to her chin, "Yeah. . . This ain't a dream. . ." The pad of his thumb caressed her pale pink lips, and staring into her beautiful eyes, he leaned forward, chapped lips merely brushing her soft and supple ones. He then fully-kissed her, sighing and closing his own eyes when she kissed him back.
The warmth he felt was so great, it warmed him to the core and it gave him a feeling of assurance. Never in his life did he think he could feel this happy. Here, with Minako in his arms, their lips moving against each others, their arms around each other, this is where he felt complete. He always wanted to do this, even when she had admitted that she was in love with him and he told her not to. This was their first kiss, and possibly. . . Their last.
"Hey, guys! We're here! Aigis! Shinjiro! Minato! Minako!"
Pulling away, Shinjiro gave a deep chuckle, his eyes looking to the doorway on the staircase.
"Man. . . Those guys sure know how to ruin a moment." He whispered.
"Senpai. . . Shinjiro. . ."
Sighing and nuzzling her once more, Shinjiro laid down his love next to her brother, the girl's hand once again looped with Minato's. The brother, strong, silent, but kind, smiled kindly at him before closing his eyes, resting his head on his sister's shoulder. A noise came from Minako's throat, the sound caught between a cry, and a sigh of relief. She looked at Shinjiro, eyes adoringly looking into his own, before her free hand clasped his.
Shinjiro stared at it, a mournful sound chocking his throat, and the wetness of his eyes growing stronger. His hand squeezed Minako's back and his true love gave a weak giggled before her head fell to the top of her brother's, and her eyes finally closed. Allowing the wetness to leave his own eyes, Shinjiro leaned forward, bringing Minako's lifeless hand to his lips, and kissing the pale limb. His eyes watered to the fullest as he stared at the red leather watch around her wrist.
". . .I'm glad I met you. . ."
"Sh. . ."
"Shin. . ."
"Shinjiro. . ."
"Shinji!"
Intro:
Shiro: "For as long as I could remember, I was told to see the day to the end, to last through it. Each and everyday of my life, I did what ever I could to see the sun set and rise. But then I got to thinking; What's the point? Everything dies. And one day, I shall die. So what's the point in striving towards the next day?"
"I've heard of something that's been done millions of times. The quickest way to kill yourself. Shoot yourself with a gun. And I must say, it seems to be the most effective. Sure, you're in a state of terror when the moment comes. But when the trigger is pulled and the bullet is launched, the terror is gone. You won't need to be afraid anymore. You're dead."
"But this case is not for myself. With the gun and the abilities I have, I don't die. When I pull the trigger, I do not 'get my brains blown out.' I live. Or rather. . . I am reborn."
"Carpe Diem. . ."
"Memento Mori. . ."
". . . Persona."
(0\U3 1NTRO)
(Day Fifteen. April 15th. 5:00 PM. Moon phase: Half-Full)
~ Shiro's Status~
Intelligence: Average (+1)
Charm: Adequate (+1)
Bravery: Timid (+1)
Understanding: Minimum (+1)
Snapping his eyes open, Shinjiro sat up and bit back a grunt as his nerves began to prickle with a needle-like sensation, his conscious not being the only thing asleep. Yawning, he rubbed the back of his arm over his eyes and he looked around, confused to see that he was in a pale blue room with a few desks, light green curtains, and a table decorated with flowers, balloons, and a small get well card. He also noticed that his backside was aching from sitting on a small seat and that his shoulder was being shaken by Akihiko, a white paper bag and a dual cardboard cup holders that held coffee cups in his free hand.
"Had a nice sleep?" asked the silver-haired cop, easily handing the other man one of the cups of black coffee before taking a spare seat and unrolling the bag. Shinjiro cracked his neck, rolling his shoulder to relax them.
"Aki, where are we?" he asked, taking a sip of the caffeinated drink.
"The hospital. You fell asleep after the doc had a check-up on Shiro," Akihiko suddenly gave a knowing half-grin, "In fact, you wouldn't leave the kid's side these past two weeks. Remember? You stayed by his side. Even now, see?" He asked, before drinking his own coffee. Shinjiro gave a puzzled look before finally noticing that his hand held a grip on a smaller one.
With his eyes traveling the other arm, he saw that the owner of the hand was none other than Shiro. The boy's eyes were close, his prescriptive glasses, pendant, and hair tie lying by the nightstand, his long and bleach-brown hair pooling around him. Instead of his well-dressed clothing, he now wore a blue hospital gown, an IV needle pricked at his wrist with a clear-fluid filled bag attached, stabling food for Shiro. Releasing the strong hold, Shinjiro stared at the high schooler.
"Oh, yeah," Turning away to protect his pride, Shinjiro placed his finished coffee down and he looked at his feet, "Right. They said he's only exhausted. Shit, wouldn't blame him." he mumbled.
"You have to admit, he's got a Hell of a strong will," Looking over Shiro once, Akihiko nodded to himself, "He's just like. . . Well, you know. . ."
Grunting, Shinjiro looked back to his pal from the orphanage.
"So, you guys gonna train him, right? Something's still up with Tartarus and the Dark Hour?" he asked.
"That's what Mitsuru said," sighed Akihiko, resting his temple on the side of his head, "All of the kids who are living in the dorms need to train, and since that's already been done twice, Mitsuru hired the rest of us to watch over them, coach and train them, you know?" Leaning back in his chair, Akihiko raised a brow, "Aren't you here for the same reasons?"
Shinjiro rolled his eyes, arms still crossed.
"No. I didn't even know about this whole thing till Mitsuru called me." he said.
"But, it look's like you've known all about it before the rest of us, Shinji-"
"Like I said, it has nothing to do with any of that crap," interrupted Shinjiro, sighing and slumping forward in his chair, "It had much more to do with that. Mitsuru did ask me. Well. . . You could sort of say I've been like a. . . Intelligence officer."
"Intelligence officer?" Akihiko was now intrigued, and he leaned forward on his seat.
"Look, this just stays between us for now, OK Aki?" asked Shinjiro, getting a nod from his best friend, "Alright, you better not snitch. Listen, there have been some weird things going around for a long time. You remember the start of those cults, right?"
"You mean that small group that's been turning into branches? Yeah, I have. Those guys seem to be everywhere around the world now. The news has been going off with their rallies about their way of life. What do they have to do with what we're talking about?" asked the brown-eyed man.
"They're a group that believes that two Gods of Death will arrive when the year ends and begins, and the whole world will be plagued in darkness," Of course, as any sane persona would, Akihiko gaped at Shinjiro as the man went on, "Now, a lot of people would see this as some sort of scam, but Mitsuru has been looking more into it. She found out that someone from her own company stole the old research notes and video sessions that the Kirijo Group had right after the Shadow Breakout of '99. She didn't want a rise in the public. So, she asked me to look into it."
"So that's why. . ." Akihiko leaned back in his chain, his own arms crossed, "So. . . That's the reason why you left Shiro in Yukari's care, right? I mean, having a kid with you while doing that kind of work."
"Not one to beat around the bush, eh Aki?" asked Shinjiro, his eyes drifting to Shiro's sleeping form, "Yeah. I didn't want anything bad to happen to the kid. At first, I just thought of giving him to Yukari when he was a baby. But. . ." Shinjiro clenched his fists, his jaw held firmly, ". . . I just. . . Couldn't. I. . . He. . ." Unable to find his words, he sighed again.
"Shinji. . ." Looking at the darker-haired man honestly, Akihiko placed a hand on his shoulder, "Come on, it's obvious why you didn't. Shiro's your son. He was an infant then." he pointed out. Giving a dry laugh, Shinjiro nodded with a bitter smile.
"I guess you're right there. This kid," He gave another dry laugh, shaking his head, "Even when I came back late, tired from getting information and working late, he'd rush up and smile, talking about what went on during his day and wondering new place we were going. He was just a little ball of energy."
"And then you left him in Yukari's care." finished Akihiko.
"I had no choice," Sitting up, Shinjiro looked at Akihiko seriously, "The cult already knows that someone is observing them. If they had found out that I had a son, they would have taken him from just like that. I did it for his own good." Looking at his son again, Shinjiro's eyes softened the slightest.
"I don't blame you. He's a good kid," Opening the white bag he brought, he handed a cup of ramen from a health shop from the strip mall, and tossed it to Shinjiro, "By the way, how did you end up with him? You said you didn't, well. . ."
"Can't tell you. Made a promise." muttered Shinjiro, already at work with breaking open the chopsticks that came with his cup of ramen and pulling open the lid. Akihiko wanted to ask more, but he kept quiet and he went to his own drinks. For a few minutes, both men ate in silence, minus the slurping noises coming from their ramen. They heard a small sound, and they looked over to see Shiro roll to his back, still asleep and snuggling into the bed.
"Good. Looks like he broke out of his coma. It'll be a while before he wakes up." said Akihiko, watching Shinjiro's son, "Must be dreaming." he mused.
"Dreaming? What gave you that?" asked Shinjiro.
"It's the same look you had when you dreamed. Remember? You'd fall asleep faster than anyone else back at the orphanage." laughed his old friend. Rolling his eyes, the darker-haired man just looked at his son, watching his sleeping form breathe quietly. Akihiko held back a knowing chuckle, glad to see that Shinjiro was allowing one of the those times for his heart to be on his sleeve.
Something tickled his nose. Scrunching up his nose, Shiro sneezed and blinked as his vision was blocked by something blue. Shaking his head a little, the teen watched as a metalmark butterfly flutter around his head, it's aqua-blue scales speckled with black, white, and purple.
"Wow. . . It's beautiful." he whispered, watching as the winged insect hover in front of him. Holding out his hand, he smiled as the delicate creature landed on the palm of his hand, opening and closing it's beautifully patterned wings.
"Wait. . . It's so clear, yet I don't have my glasses. . ." Brushing his fingers close to his eyes, he didn't feel the metal wires of slim lenses that were usually over his eyes, "I can't even see five feet without my glasses. How come my vision is so clear right now?" he asked himself, the butterfly fluttering up his arm and to the side of his head, resting right there and keeping still. Shiro quietly tired to look at his little guest but something heavy around his ankles caught his attention more. A silver gleam blinded his eyes for a second before he looked at his feet.
Silver and heavy chains rattled and locked around his ankles, the thick anklets of the chains imbedded with tiny sapphires, the lock in the shape of a clock. 'What the. . .'
A cold wind blew over his body and he gave a shiver as something now fluttered around his toes. Spreading out his arms, he observed that he was know dressed in a white cloak that trailed to the soles of his bare feet, his long hair undone. Crouching, Shiro tested the lock on his ankles, wincing when that seem to tighten the anklets.
"Just. . . Where am I? All I can remember was being on top of the roof with that weird. . . thing and Zero, and Heru. . . Wait, just where are they?" Looking upright, the grey-brown-haired boy looked all around him, a mask of surprise now crossing his features as he stared at the area.
Wooden pews covered in purple leather and plush lined up one by one, separated by three aisles that were carpeted with a thick and silky blue tiles that tickled his feet. Candles standing on violet-felt stands with three curling stands stood near the aisles, vases of black stone filled with hydrangeas, barriroses, proteas, and lotuses blessed with pure-white petals with ever-green leaves standing by and glowed by the dark blue and purple velvet walls of the room. Following the twirling links of his chains, Shiro stared at the glowing alter with a statuette made of blue-marble presented on the wall. He squinted his eyes at how the statue was standing.
Arms spread apart with one knee propped up the slightest, Shiro determined that the marble-curved human was being crucified. However, the expression on the person's face was calm and desolate, not horror or mournful. In fact, the person's face was carved oddly, one side with long and flowing hair and the other short, as if two people were sharing the body.
"Am I in. . . a church?" Shiro asked himself, staring at the statue.
"Actually, you are in your sanctuary."
Jumping (Or only straining his chains more, in his case) at the sudden voice, Shiro spun around and saw that a man stood a few feet away from him. Shiro was caught under the hypnotic gaze of the stranger's amber-gold eyes.
"Master?"
Blinking, Shiro snapped out of his daze, cocking his head.
"I beg your pardon?" he asked, now taking in more of the stranger's looks. His skin was pale and unblemished, a smooth and aristocratic face framed by ivory-white hair blown wispily around his head till it stopped at his neck, layered with platinum-silver highlights that caught the glow of the room. His attire was a light blue, long-sleeved dress shirt with a white cravat tied around his neck, his pants a shade of dark grey and tucked into black houseman's boots. Dressed heavily and in the shade of azure-blue was his box coat, a shoulder cape a shade darker than the coat draped over his shoulders with both the coat and cape designed with black lines connected to circles sewn with golden buttons. With his left arm pressed to the middle of his abdomen, said arm was covered in a black cape. Evidently, the hand on his side was bare while the other was covered in a white glove with the brim of a black bicorne held between his fingers, a midnight-blue ribbon curled and attached to it along with a white plume.
The man smiled kindly, a chuckle escaping his lips.
"Forgive me, I was told by my master to title you as that. However, if I may have your name, please?" he asked, his tone deep and rich with a New Zealand accent.
"Master? Wait, I don't even know who you are. Who are you? Where are we? Really. . . What's going on here?" asked Shiro, more shaken then calm. The man walked over to him, his free hand suddenly reaching past the lapel of his coat. From out a breast pocket, he pulled out a silver key crafted with the same gems on Shiro's chains, and he knelt down and unlocked Shiro from the anklets, the latter letting out a sigh and bending down to rub his reddening and sore ankles.
"Again, forgive me for frightening you. I am actually quite impress of how mannered you are, asking my identification before giving your own," Pressing his hat now to his chest, he gave a humble bow, "My name is Christopher. We are in the Alter of Momentum, a space created by dreams and the subconscious. When I referred to the Alter as your sanctuary, I meant it was a place where you would be most comforted. It truly is a lovely place," Raising to his tall stature, Christopher looked at Shiro's ankles, "I apologize for the abysmal welcome. The cloak you are wearing is needed for the harsh weather outside and the chains that were upon you were crafted by an unknown force. It seems I was blessed to be given the keys to your lock. However, I fear that you will be locked in these chains for each of your visits." He said thoughtfully.
"Visits?" asked Shiro.
Christopher lightly smacked his forehead, "Ah, I am being so scatter-brained this night," Scolding himself, Christopher shook his head, "Yes, visits. My master does plan for you to visit, since you are our esteemed guest. Oh yes, since I have given my name, may I know of your own?" he asked.
"Sh. . . Shiro. Shiro Takeba." whispered Shiro, bewildered that his own voice was wobbly.
"A pleasure, Shiro-sama," greeted the white-haired man, smiling pleasantly. They both suddenly heard the charming sound of a bells and Christopher now pulled out a golden pocket watch that was attached to a diamond encrusted rosary, "Drat, I've completely forgot the time. We'll miss our ride if we keep dawdling." Fitted his cape to his neck and placing his feathered hat on his head, Christopher walked over to the front of the church, his hand on a curved knobs of dark blue double doors. He looked over his shoulder and gave a wondering look Shiro's way, "Coming?"
His first response wanted to be 'no'. But seeing that Christopher didn't look or act to be someone dangerous, Shiro attentively walked to him and nodded. Smiling his ever-so brilliant smile, the mysterious man pulled open the doors, a bright streak of lightening nearly blinding Shiro.
Cold winds with pelting rain howled and Shiro was soon taken under something thick and heavy. Opening his squinting eyes, Shiro felt himself being dragged by Christopher with something murky and sticky as mud sliding and dirtying his feet. A thunderous roar gave his heart a leap and Shiro tried his best to keep up with the taller male's long and fast strides.
"Chris! Chris, over here!" A prominent and light voice was calling out through the thick rain and Christopher halted. Seeing past the wool coat, his accompaniment could see and gape at the stunningly beautiful vehicle they were coming to.
An 18th-century, horse-drawn carriage was before them, glowing as blue as the Altar of Momentum with it's windows curtained by glossy purple shades, the four wheels black with silver rims. Shiro's eyes widen to see that the horses attached to the carriage were the skeletons of actual horses, their hollow eye sockets dark and blank with their heads tilted curiously at him.
"Do not be afraid, Shiro-sama," Turning Christopher's way, the older man smiled at him, "Though they look frightening, they are quite dolce, and they know exactly where they are going. After all, I am the driver and horseman that watches over them." Stepping away and leaving Shiro with his cape, the man walked over and regarded another male that stood by the door of the carriage.
Shiro was sure he was seeing double, for the other man next to Christopher shared the latters looks, Everything from the eyes to his high cheekbones in the exact place Christopher's were. His eyes were the same mesmerizing color of gold like Christopher's, yet his silvery-white hair was combed to his shoulders, giving a sort of rebellious look. He was dressed in a color scheme that the horseman had. He also wore a box coat, similar to Christopher's, stopped at his thighs with black shorts hidden by his open coat, his white thigh-high riding boots polished and unstained by mud. His dress shirt was the same as the other white-haired man's, but the cravat around his neck was black with a single golden button in the middle. On the top of his head was a cavalier hat, also black with a dark blue ribbon and a white feather.
The other man looked at Shiro, grinning wildly and waving at him excitedly.
"Nice to meet ya, Shiro-sama!" His voice was light and flighty, accented with a Wales accent, "I'll be your footman, Clayrence! Feel free to call me somethink' else, though! My twit of a brother here gave me my name and I would like somethink' cooler-oof!"
Clayrence held his stomach as he doubled over, Christopher glaring knowingly with his elbow held near him, from striking the smaller in the gut.
"Shiro-sama, please don't be afraid. I'll admit that my little brother here likes to scare people, he's as harmless as a grapefruit," Ignoring Clayrence's scowl, Christopher cleared his throat, "Please, follow him into the carriage. The weather is awfully terrible, isn't it?"
A rumble of lightening made Shiro agree, and with slightly tripping feet, he walked over and let out a yelp as he was lifted by Clayrence, the other male giving a wide smile.
"No need to 'be 'fraid, Shiro-chuubou," A little shocked by the slang, Shiro gave an odd look, which made Clayrence laugh, "Like I side, I'll be your footman for this trip, and I'd be the best footman you'll see in your damned life!" Nodding this affirmatively, he hefted the small high school student into the carriage, climbing in himself and calling, "We're all in, Chris! Lets get a move on!" At the sound of a snapping whip, the horses gave whinnies from outside out the carriage began moving.
Dazed, Shiro only manage to sit and blinked confusedly.
"Welcome, to the Velvet Room."
Shaking his head, Shiro now stared at the well-dressed man who sat across from him and Clayrence. As if he had came out from a still-life painting, the man looked like he was ten years older than the twins, his light green hair brushed and tied, a slim ponytail reaching to his pelvis. His skin was the color of olive-copper, and his eyes almost invisible shade of white. His suit was pressed and smooth looking, in the shade of off-white with a black rose pressed to the lapels of the suit. His shoes were grey and spit-shined and the small monical covering his left eye had the same chain as Christopher's pocket watch. Held in his hands was a deck of blue cards.
The butterfly, who had forgotten about, suddenly flew off his ear at to the man, landing on the man's neck before it glowed and morphed into a broach in the shape of a white dove.
"A pleasure to meet you, Master Shiro. My name is Oelso, and I am delighted to see that you are well." greeted the stranger, swiftly shuffling the cards in his hands.
"I'm. . . I'm where exactly?" asked Shiro, after a long time, his body still shaking. Oelso sat back.
"You are in a space, a ripple of the fabric of time caught between Dreams and Reality, Mind and Matter. Physically, you are sleeping. However, your wandering mind has taken the form of this horse-drawn carriage," said Oelso. He moved his hands this way and that, displaying the glowing blue entire of the room, that looked much larger than from the outside. The seats they sat on were soft with purple cushions and pillows and the floor bellow them transparent, as if it weren't there at all. Shiro was surprised to see that the muddy floor from outside was now a multi-colorful aura that glowed and shined. Above them glowed a purple-crystal chandelier, a glass container filled with glassed goblets and different sorts of drinks close as well, a simple table between the older and younger males, "What you see here in this room was created by you, and the path in which your life will take. Right now, as we are traveling through this path, it reflects upon your own life. You are confused, and the storm in your mind is very dense and overwhelmed."
"It. . . Feels that way," mumbled Shiro, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on his kneecaps, "So. . . If this place was created by. . Me. . . Then, why? How. . .?"
Oelso sat back, deck kept still in his grasp. Suddenly tossing the cards in the air, he snapped his fingers and the deck formed a blue orb before changing into a scroll with a candle-oil seal. The scroll plopped onto the young boy's lap. Taking it with uneasiness, Shiro broke the seal and he unrolled the scroll, staring at the cursive words spelt in gold ink.
"Though the Velvet Room is shaped and formed in what a person sees it as, only a few who are bound to a certain contract may enter this room. According to the date of this contract, two weeks ago, you had agreed to accept the absolute power within in you, ready to receive any reward, or punishment, that draws from this power," Picking up the scroll, Oelso pointed to the line at the very top.
'I, Shiro Aragaki, give my word that I will take full responsibility for the consequences of my decisions.'
"That was when. . . I was with Heru. He made me say it. . . So that I could save Zero. . . Aragaki. . ." whispered Shiro, the name that left his mouth so alien, yet so familiar. The contract vanishing and turning back into the deck of cards.
"It seems that you have a unique spirit, Master Shiro. And with an interesting sort of character as well," Oelso plucked a card from the top of the deck, flipping it to reveal a image of a laughing jester, a dog chasing after him. Inspecting the card closer, Shiro could see himself as the jester with Zero chasing him, the two of them looking joyous, "You are the wielder of the Wild Card. A New World Fool. Those who have this card are very special. Their meaning is zero. Never a beginning, and never holding an ending. But, even more so, with what it holds, the New World Fool can hold endless possibilities," Placing the card back on the deck, the man in white offered a sincere smile.
"Master Shiro, have you ever dreamed?"
"I'm. . . Sorry?" Shiro was confused, more than he already was. Why did Oelso wanted to know if he dreamed?
"Dreamed, Master Shiro. Have you ever held onto a dream that you could never let go, no matter how inconceivable it seemed, or how far it was from your reach?" asked Oelso. From the corner of his eye, Shiro looked at the parted curtain of the carriage's window, and he saw the faint outlines or a boy and man, walking hand in hand. He could hear a faint sound past the thick rain.
'Daddy. . .! Daddy. . .!'
"Yes. I do have dreams." confirmed Shiro, nodding.
"Good. Dreams are powerful things, young master. Very powerful." said Oelso, closing his eyes and sighing dreamily to himself. Shiro shifted in his seat.
"Ah, yes," Shiro jumped when the man spoke, "It seems that you have nearly met those here who live in this room. You have already met the twins, Christopher and Clayrence. But there is still one more. However," A sigh came from Oelso, and he shook his head with a bittersweet smile, "He is not here with us today. Probably off sketching, the little rapscallion." Fondly laughing, the green hair man removed his lense and wiped it with the lapel of his suit.
"Keh, that little 'welp all-hways causes a ruckus, I tell ya," Chastised Clayrence in his light accent, "Been only a guest for few 'hweeks and he just acts like one of those, err. . . Hey, Chris? What are those strange people humans call in the real 'hworld? Ya know, the one's with green skin and ripped out organs?"
"I believe they call them 'zombies.'" Said Christopher from the small window that lead to the horseman's booth, the large canopy over him keeping his safe from the wet weather.
"Yeah! A zombie! The 'icckle one's a zombie!" said Clayrence firmly.
"Now, now, no teasing our other guest, Clayrence. He is just frighten. We all are the first time around." Defended Oelso. Puffing out his chest with a light 'Keh!' Clayrence glowered at the chandelier.
"Master Shiro, shall we discuss more later? Here," From his breast pocket, Oelso handed Shiro a small key wrapped in blue velvet, "This will allow you to use any door of your choosing to enter the Velvet Room. We do hope you come and visit."
"I-I will visit," Taking the key, Shiro looked at the man seriously, "All that's going on right now. . . I want to know more about it. If it involves me and all this insanity, then I think it was the right choice for me to sign that contract." Nodding his head, the sable-grey-haired boy clenched the key in his fist.
'My, what a good spirit.' Oelso chuckled quietly to himself as he nodded.
"Then, until our next meeting, farewell, Master Shiro."
A bright light radiated off the key, and in a flash of blinding light, Shiro felt his head begin to throb with pain before he heard voices.
"Is. . . Wake. . . OK?"
"First time. . . Might throw-up. . . Get the. . . Bucket nearby."
"Don't be a. . .! Hold on. . . His eyes. . . He's waking up!"
"Shiro?"
His eyes had opened.
Vision turning foggy for a second, Shiro sat up in the bed he laid in, his bangs only obscuring his awful eyesight.
"Shiro, thank goodness you're awake." said Yukari, having arrived in the room a while back with Mitsuru, Fuuka, Taiga, Yukino, and Shuma. He looked at the five of them, along with two men he had never seen before.
"Wow, I can't believe you're sitting up on your own. He's not even throwing up." Commented Yukino, though smiling.
"Just. . . Ouch, why does my head hurt?" asked the surfer, holding his head for a second before shaking his head, surprised that the pain was gone faster than it came.
"Huh, that's interesting."
"What's interesting. . . Miss, err. . ." Shiro stared at Mitsuru confusedly, who in turn gave a smooth chuckle.
"I am Mitsuru Kirijo, head of the board of administration at Gekkoukan and your dorm supervisor. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Shiro-san." she said.
"You, too, Kirijo-sensei," said Shiro, now looking at Akihiko and Shinjiro, "Who are you?"
Shinjiro, voice held in his chest, could not speak, his eyes caught in the kind pair of Shiro's mismatched eyes. However, Akihiko nodded to him.
"Akihiko Sanada, head of the athletics department for Gekkoukan. And this," He patted Shinjiro's stiffened back, "Is Shinji Hanshou. You should be thanking him. He took you all the way here when you were knocked out." He didn't even let out a grunt when Shinjiro gave a swift and hidden kick to the shin. Looks like endurance really did pay off.
"Oh, really?" With a light laugh, Shiro smiled kindly at the man, "Thanks so much, Hanshou-san! You're incredibly nice." he said happily.
"I. . . Uh. . ." It was Akihiko's turn to kick Shinji in the shin, forcing out his words caught in his dry throat, "No problem. Sure you're. . . alright?" he finally managed out, that smile on his son's face so familiar and warm.
"Yeah, I'm alright. A little confused about what went on last night, and a tad hungry, but I'm alright." He said, before looking at the sheet covering his feet, "I'd also like to know something. That. . . Shadowy thing I saw. And that guy in the trench coat. . . Just who or what, in this matter, are they?" he asked, a slightly worried look now on his face.
Yukari sighed, brushing the boy's bangs away from his eyes and slipping his glasses over her adoptive son's eyes, "There's so much to explain to you."
"Well, lets start it easy for him, Takeba-san. We're gonna tell you more about this. Trust me, there's a lot to explain," said Taiga, "Shiro-san. That creature that attacked you. It's called a Shadow. It's a sort of being that feeds off the negative emotions of people. Shadows appeared around a while back, in a place that we call Tartarus. You can call it the Shadows main domain." she explained.
"Tartarus use to exist a long time ago. The Chairwoman-Kirijo-sensei- and a handful of others were able to banish shadows years ago." said Shuma quietly.
"How did they banish them?" asked Shiro.
"Remember that man in the trench coat?" When Shiro nodded, Mitsuru went on, "He is an example of a Persona. A Persona is, well to simply put it; A Persona is a hidden power that resides in those who have the Potential. With the potential, Persona-users can call for th their Persona and engage them in combat against Shadows. And in order to summon a Persona, Persona-user awake their power by using a evoker," She said, "Akihiko, his evoker, please?"
From out of his pocket, Akihiko tossed the silver and white, small revolver. Catching it, Mitsuru held it out the Shiro, who took it and looked over it, reading five letters engraved on the side of it.
"T.R.U.M.P?" he asked, eyeing the trigger.
"That's the name of our team. It stands for 'Tartarus Resistance Union by Maintaining Personas.' Long name, but our methods are more easy to follow," explained Yukino, before she took a closer look at Shiro's evoker, "And unlike before, our evokers are designed differently according to the owner." she said. Shiro, still had his eyes on his gun.
"So. . . The group is like an extermination committee?" he asked, lightly throwing the gun by an inch before catching it.
"Something like that. You see, it's like this. What we do is eliminate Shadows and recruit members with those who have the potential," said Akihiko, looking at the shortest teen in the room rather smugly, "It's pretty interesting, since not only are we helping others, but it also tests out your strength."
"Akihiko, you're scaring him," stated Mitsuru bluntly, noticing that a panicked look washed over Shiro's face, "Shiro-san, please listen to me. This power you have, this potential within you. It's a strong and very powerful will. With your help, we may be able to rid of the Shadows once and for all. Shiro-san, will you accept your evoker and become a part of T.R.U.M.P?" She asked.
Shiro reeled and threw everything back to him. From what he knew now, this was a set series of chain reactions. His first encounter with a Shadow, summoning his Persona, entering and meeting the residence of the Velvet Room, and now discovering his power. Though the whole thing would have seemed far-fetched to him weeks ago, it certainly made sense now. Holding the evoker tightly in his grasp, he smirked slight with confidence.
"You can count on me!" he said firmly, an undying fire in his eyes.
"Awesome!" said Taiga and Yukino in unison, Shuma merely nodding with a ghost of a smile on his face.
"Excellent. It will be a pleasure to have you." said Mitsuru with her trademark smile.
"Just promise me you'll be careful." said Yukari, her charge nodding and smiling at her as he held his evoker. A grumble came into the room and Shiro hoped off the bed, everyone surprised to see he could do that, even after all he went through.
"I'm hungry," he stated, albeit bluntly, before he picked up his hair tie and pendant and slipped them on, "I'm going to get some food. I sure hope they have healthy food here."
"We'll go with you. We gotta tell the others and let everyone else know that you're alright." said Taiga, she Yukino, and Shuma walking out of the room with Shiro, all of them at his sides to make sure he wouldn't get hurt while walking.
"Hey, Mitsuru. You sure it's alright to let Shiro join now? I mean, you saw what happened," Akihiko pointed this out once the younger members of T.R.U.M.P left, "Shiro has no control over his Persona. You could see it, could you?"
"I did," replied Mitsuru, eyeing her parada-clad feet, "I could see his Persona stand behind him just now, and Shiro didn't even sense him. I'm afraid he hasn't fully mastered his potential," She then looked at her old friends calmly, "But, we don't need to worry for now. We'll take small steps for his training, as well as for everyone else since that last attack was unexpected. Also, Shinjiro-san," She turned to the long-haired man, "From what you have gathered now, do you know the name of the cult?"
Shinjiro eyed his own feet before sighing and looking at the old crew seriously.
"They're called Stregone."
"I can't really say if this is food or not."
The four of them stared at the red contents before backing away, all of the nearly jumping when the substance gave a few popping bubbles.
"This is suppose to be a hospital, right?" asked Shuma, sweat rolling down his temple awkwardly. Testily, Shiro took a sniff, instantly regretting it and pulling back with his nose pinched.
"'Bis is'th why I do noth like hosthpitals." said Shiro through his pinched nose.
"I suggest the macaroni salad. It's the only edible thing here, actually." said a light voice. Standing and looking over Shiro's shoulder was a boy that beat his height by a foot or so, actually looking taller than he should have been. His hair color was dark brown and cut in a short style with his eyes a unique shade of grey, a mole under his left eye. His lean form was clothed in a hospital gown like Shiro's, though unlike the glasses-wearing boy, he wore camouflage cargo shorts and black socks, Shiro only wearing his grey pants and barefooted.
"Seymour-senpai? It's a surprise to see you here." said Yukino, looking shocked.
"You know him?" asked Shuma, though not looking that interested.
"Yeah," confirmed Yukino, "This is our senpai, Seymour Laurent. He moved into the dorms a few weeks before you and Shiro, but then he had to leave the day he came. What are you doing here, senpai?" asked Taiga. Seymour flashed a smile.
"Nothing to worry about. Just had to go through a tiny operation, no worries." he said with a nod.
"An operation?" asked Shiro, a prickled feeling going up his spine. It was now clearly obvious that he did not like hospitals.
"N-No worries, really," Waving his hands a bit, Seymour threw a friendly smile, "Like I said, it was very tiny. Nothing major-" A hacking cough cut off the speech in his throat, and he cupped his hands over his mouth, eyes shutting and body racking with saliva and a ting of blood seeping through the cracks of his fingers.
"L-Laurent-senpai?!" Exclaimed Shiro, he and the others frighten and shocked, he and Shuma catching the older student just in time as he fell, landing on his heels.
"I'm-hck! Hck!- F-Fine!" Trying to stand on his own feet, Seymour gave one last cough before straightening his stance, his spit and residue of blood staining and dripping off his fingers and palms.
"Shit," he cursed under his breath, breathing going back to normal with his bangs messed up a little. He looked at the younger students, his small scowl mustering up to a small and seemingly forced, care-free smile, "S-See? I'm alright! O-Only a few-hck, hck. . ." he coughed, body shaking with heavy shivers.
"Laurent-san!" Heels clicking from half-inch heels, a middle-aged nurse scurried over to the young man, a scowl mixed with worry on her face, "Dr. Zozuki clearly said you are not to leave your bed after surgery. If you wanted food, you could have called for me or the other nurses." she scolded, though helping Seymour back on his feet, bringing a handkerchief from her pocket and wiping off all off the saliva-blood mixture.
"Sorry, Orisona-san. I just thought I could handle it." he apologized, the nurse already helping him stand on his shaking knees.
Sighing, the nurse shook her head, "You're body is still recovering from the tumor, Laurent-san. You still need your rest."
"Tumor?" Asked Shuma, Seymour comically waving his hands with sweat rolling down his face.
"Now, now, it's just a malignant stomach tumor! I mean, it was, at least. It's not gone completely, but I really am getting better! No worries, right?" he asked, grinning cheekily.
"I actually wasn't that worried." replied Shuma unemotionally, sweat managing to roll down Seymour's face faster.
"W-Well, it's certainly great to hear that you're alright, Laurent-senpai. And it's nice to meet you as well." Said Shiro, finally getting past the initial shock of seeing the older student hack-up blood.
Seymour glanced at him, grinning back with an air that could cheer up anyone.
"You too, Shiro-san, right? And hey, call me Seymour. We'll be living together at the dorms soon anyway, right? Might as well get use to everyone's first names." he said cheerily. Her then patted the shorter teen's head, "Hey, and no worries on your first day of school. "Trust me, Gekkoukan might seem like a big place, but you'll make a lot of good friends there, promise." He said cheerily.
"Yes, yes, well," The nurse interrupted, "Lets take you back to your bed, Laurent-san. You will be taking your leave in a few days, yes?" she asked. Sighing, Seymour nodded, the nurse leading him to the door. From over his shoulder, the brown-haired patient waved and smile.
"I'll see ya guys at Gekkoukan and the dorms! Later!" He called as he left.
"Alright, now lets get you that macaroni salad, Shiro-san?" asked Yukino, Shiro's stomach answering for him.
"Yes, please!" said Shiro with a hurried voice, Yukino and Taiga laughing while Shuma shook his head with a knowing look.
Across from the hospital, the main street of a busy open flea market spurred on with buying customers, different sorts of people enjoying their time of freedom from school, work, and their daily lives. A young, man by the age of sixteen was walking past the hordes of people, chin-length black hair strewn messily on his head and his eyes the same color. Sucking a can of cola through a straw, he walked over to a nearby park, walking silently over to three people, two in frenzy of a swordfight while the last was busy with something.
One was a girl one year his junior, her hair that normally stuck out at the side swing as her hand brandish a two-handed broadsword, two long pieces of her hair that reached her shoulders whipping along. Her lithe body was dodging the blows driven by the tallest male of three, his left hand wielding a black-bladed sword with a red trim. His long black hair flew wildly as he slashed and nearly caught the girl's torso. Their eyes, the girl's violet, the male's a mossy-green, locked on as their blades met in a strike, sparks splashing of the metal, a test of strength met.
"Fighting?" asked the visiting male, taking a sip out of his drink. The teen at work looked up, nodding him in regard with his hazel-colored eyes casting to the fighting swordsmen.
"Yeah, same as usual. Though it's more of training that fighting," Pushing away his rust-colored bangs from his eyes, he held up a few cards with his other hand pointing to a castle made of cards, "Help me out finish this, T.C?"
T.C lowered his sleepy eyes to the ground, shrugging before walking over a few feet close to the fight and sitting down, straw still slipped within his lips. One when he covered his mouth to muffle a burp did the two swordsmen noticed him.
"Oh, hey, T-san!" Called the girl, wiping sweat off her brow while the other swordsman sheathed his sword in a solid-black sheath, "Good to see ya made it. Now all we have to wait for is Sora." said the girl, walking over and taking a seat with T.C.
"That is, if he shows up," said the red-brown-haired boy under his breath, disassembling his castle of cards and placing the deck in his pocket, his left hand drafted with a single feather, "The only reason he comes around is because he has a chance to fight. Say, you seen him anywhere, Sakaki-san?"
"No, can't say I have," muttered Sakaki, leaning against one of the close trees, shifting one shoulder and his chin upward to crack his neck, "He'll show. . . Speak of the devil."
"Tch, heard that, asshole." Stalking over to them with an intimidating air, the older of the now-quintet had black hair long in the front and spiking in the back, amber-gold eyes nearly hidden by his long bangs. The scowl that seemed permanent on his mouth was set and shot at Sakaki, the latter looking calm and cool.
"Finally made it." mumbled T.C, head tilted in a sort of way that gave off that he was ready to fall asleep.
"I'll come when I want to, brat," muttered the arriving teen, presumably Sora, with a long-bladed katana in his hands, "Alright, who's ready to get their ass handed to them?"
"Alright, alright, calm down." sighed the girl, her hands ready with her sword.
"What, you're gonna fight me, loli?" teased Sora, his snickering smirk caused by how red the girl's face became.
"Call me that again, I dare you." she said dangerously.
"Now, now, Sarah-chan," speaking coolly, Sakaki tried to cause less tension, "Lets just focus on training, yeah? Draw your anger into battle, and use it." he said with a rare smile, though it could still scare a few since there was a scar on his left cheek. Sighing, Sarah nodded and she and Sora strode to the open area, Sakaki pushing off the tree and now turning his attention the other males.
"We're going out tonight, aren't' we, Sebastian-san?" he asked, the other nodding as he pulled out a book from his book bag.
"Yeah. T.C and Sarah-san need to experience the field more, and we need to see if either Sora, T.C, me, or you have any abilities in surveillance. It could provide more help while we're up against them," Offhandedly, his eyes rested on the opening of a MCM standard small bore pistol, the entire metal in a deep-red color, "They getting stronger, so we need to practice and prepare with whatever time we got."
"What if there are others like us?" Both teens were surprised by T.C's sudden statement, the smaller usually keeping out of any conversation.
"We'll. . . We'll see then. Until then, all we can do is either relax or train. And since it seems that neither of those two are going nai-to-nail here," From his pocket and with a secret smile, he held out his cards, "Anyone willing on playing some Black Jack?"
"Pass." muttered Sakaki.
"Sleepy. . ." T.C curled up in a ball and fell asleep, Sebastian shaking his head.
"Would someone remind me how I got mixed with you people?"
With a tired yawn betraying him, Seymour laid back in his bed, a little pissed-off that he was now officially under room-arrest, the doctors and nurses ordering him (Though with smiles plastered on their faces) to stay in his room with his meals brought to him, though his weak stomach not being able to even take a bite out of an apple.
Staring out of the window, he realized it was already late, the sun ready to be replaced by the moon. Golden rays from the setting sun lit up his room as he casually messed with his phone. With a sigh, he sat up and situated himself out of bed, walking over to the window as he leaned to the sill.
"Huh, just a few more days, and I'll be out of here. Well, I at least hope that school will be interesting. Hm, that reminds me, I gotta replace some of my paints. A few got mixed up during the move," Remaining silent for a while, he spoke to himself again, "I hope Oba-san, Jii-san, and Kaa-san are doing alright. I swear, when I get back home, I'm helping out double time!" he swore, nodding firmly to himself. His stomach suddenly gave a lurch and he held it, groaning as something inside him bubbled.
"O-Ok, maybe I'll take a nap first, then." he laughed weakly, moving himself to sit on the edge of the bed. Closing his eyes tiredly, he cocked his head one way to enjoy the silence.
*It's always this or something else.*
"Huh?" Pausing, Seymour opened his eyes, looking around his room. For a minute, he thought he heard his voice growling, with a deep tone that wasn't his own, "Is someone-"
*It'll either be this useless body, becoming so frail with something as pitiful as a cold, or I'll just shy away from it with a smile. Tch, what bullshit.*
"Wh-Who's there? Who are you!" Yelling, the light-eyed teen gripped the sheets of his bed, his eyes darting everywhere.
*Try guessing, you loser. I'm the voice who represents what you truly want,* Purring, the voice was now caressing it's words with dark charisma, *Give into what you desire. You don't want to be seen as a weakling, yes? You want to protect and give, without gaining anything in return? But what about some freakin' recognition? That's what you want, isn't it?*
Eyes fluttering dangerously, Seymour nodded with hazy eyes.
"Y. . . Yeah."
*Go forth. Find salvation. Before the Cosmos arrives.*
"Cos. . . Mos. . ."
Muttering and with hunched shoulders, Seymour suddenly fell forward, his entire body suddenly swept under a typhoon of black feathers, his presence completely gone.
In the dorms, around ten o'clock, with Shiro discharged from the hospital, he and the rest of the gang sat in the first-floor lounge, along with Mitsuru, this being the first time he had seen all of them together.
Zero (Who practically glomped and smothered his owner with wet-nosed kisses) Laid on his side with his paw and flank already healed, Shiro resting his head on said flank of the floor.
"So he's really joining us?" finally asked Ryuji, breaking the silence and sending a rather daggering look Shiro's way.
"Yes. Do I need to repeat myself?" asked Mitsuru, calmly though still a little annoyed that she was asked this so much.
"No, not that I'm disagreeing, but he still needs work." commented Cecelia, as if Shiro wasn't in the room.
"I'll agree to that." he said, stroking Zero's ears, the huge hound's hind leg twitching and trembling from the scratching.
"True, but you still make a valued addition, Shiro-san. Strength, character, and Persona-wise." said Mitsuru, looking at the bleach-brown-haired boy.
"By the way, what's his Persona's name, anyway? I've never seen it before." said Taiga from her seat on the couch.
"From what I've researched, it's name is Osiris." said Mitsuru.
"Osiris." The name fitted the blue-haired man. Shiro would admit that. What he wouldn't actually admit that with a shot of a gun, that thing actually came out of him.
"That's the Egyptian God of the Afterlife, Death in Western Culture," From his spot near the wall, Takato had his arms crossed with his head to the ground, "He was said to be the also called 'The King of the Living,' since in ancient Egypt, they consider dead spirit's the blessed ones for traveling to the afterlife." he said, rather clearly and as if he had just gotten that from a history book.
"How do you know that, Akatsuki-san?" asked Yukino, getting no response from the senior student.
"I'm going for a smoke." he finally stated, leaving the dorms in a huff.
"Lone wolf, as usual." mumbled Shuma, sitting on the one-seater of the room. Rolling off his dog, Shiro crawled along the floor until his eyes found pale hands writing something in small text. Following his eyes, he realized that it was Kaguya. Now that he thought about it, the two of them never really got acquainted.
"Writing a book, Kaguya-san?" he asked, smiling friendly. Looking up before ducking his head quickly, Kaguya gave a shy nod, knees drawn to his chest with his notebook filled with words on his kneecaps.
"Awesome! Can I read it sometime?" asked Shiro, eyes shinning with excitement at the thought of a new piece of litterateur. Eyes blinking, Kaguya's expressions changed with a small smile before he flipped the pages to the back and wrote something. Peering over his shoulder when he was done, Shiro read the words.
When it's done, yes. I hope you like stories about demons.
"Demons? Really? Sweet, you just read my mind!" laughing, Shiro suddenly rolled on the floor, laughing like a mad man.
'Yukari said he had emotional outbursts, but I never expected some to be from happiness,' Chuckling quietly, Mitsuru watched the boy as he was licked at by Zero, the dog curiously happy since Shiro was so happy, 'Shinjiro acts with his emotions like this as well, but not with this much happiness, out free abandonment.'
Suddenly feeling something vibrate in her pocket, the redhead pulled out her cell phone and answered.
"Yes? Mitsuru Kirijo speaking."
"Mitsuru-san! Hurry, you have to get here quickly!"
"Fuuka? Wait, what do you-?"
"Just hurry, please! You and the other students have to get here, Gekkoukan, right now! Please, there's no time to explain! If we don't hurry, he'll be lost forever!"
The line went off and Mitsuru stood up with grace that could rival a tigress's.
"T.R.U.M.P, we're heading out to the school, right now! Gather your evokers and weapons and prepare for battle!" she ordered, those who stayed inside stared at her in shock, "Don't just do nothing! Do as I say!"
With quickened movements, the teens dispersed, Shiro only managing to follow Shuma and Taiga up the stairs. Taiga looked over her shoulder and tried to give a confident look to the confused boy.
"We must be meeting with someone, so no worries, Shiro-san! Get ready Shiro, you're about to make a new friend and head on your first trip to Tartarus!"
T0 B3 C0NT1NUD3D
And that is that. I. . . Really got nothing much to say here. So, let me leave you with these words! Read and review! My school sucks because of it's IB program! I'll be off and going anime ape-shit crazy at the movies and Barnes and Noble with my pals! I ate too much pizza today :P Bye, bye!
Now, it's time to find out what's gonna go on next!
Shiro: Next time, on Live Today, Die Forever:
"For the meantime, I'll just want you to watch the others, Shiro."
"So that means do nothing, right?"
"Looks like we have a few moths caught in our web."
"Let me take care of them, master."
"Do what you will. Oh, and try not to get too much blood over my castle."
"No. . . Stop it! Shut up! Just. . . JUST SHUT UP!"
"Prepare for Hell, you little rodents!"
"Shiro, look out, behind you!"
"AHHHHH!"
"Sh-Shit. . . You're. . . You're such a. . . a goddamn pain in the ass. . .!"
"His power. . . It's going to go berserk!"
Shiro: Coming up, Episode Three: To Fight is to Protect
N. . . NO! HE CAN'T BE DEAD! HE JUST CAN'T!"
Hope you liked this!
This is me saying, Peace!