Disclaimer: I do not own Persona 3—or any version of the Persona series, really. I just own this rather shameless piece of work.

Other Notes: My living soundboard for this work told me, after reading the chapter, how funny he thought it was to put two characters with such passive personalities in this situation. "It helps to keep the plot intact," he said, "but not for really, actively changing stuff. Are you going to?"

Who knows? Status Quo Is God. Except when it's not. You'll see.

Also, WARNING, there will be some slight ribbing on Yukari in this and some future chapters (and maybe some other characters later on; here's lookin' at you, Junpei). Personally, I like her just fine, having watched her growth from the Journey to the Answer and back again for P3P's Girl's Side, but that does not change the fact that characters will have opinions that may be less than favorable at the start, especially considering first impressions.

I do not like to bash characters personally and do not go out of my way to do so. That's much too troublesome. This is just here to warn you all ahead of time so I don't get the nagging reviewer that doesn't know how to differentiate character opinions from writer opinions. Thank you.

Symbiosis

Chapter Four

It was late into the afternoon when Minato finally set out, bidding his aunt Sayuri goodbye as he left. She was kind enough to pack him a bento to eat on the way, insistent on giving him one last home-cooked meal.

He smiled faintly in thanks and took it gingerly. He was honestly grateful. While he had lived in many relatives' houses, this was the one he had stayed in the longest. Even when she was having financial hardships, this aunt had welcomed him into her home and didn't insist on shipping him off as soon as possible. Even if he'd had to move out again for a while when it got particularly bad, she always invited him back when her life was relatively stable again.

It had been… nice. Like he wasn't just some extra baggage or a box of half-remembered mementos of his parents, shipped from place to place because no one knew what to do with him but couldn't just throw him away either.

"Do you have everything? You should hurry to the station soon, dear," his aunt said, looking at the sky with a worried furrow in her brow. "There's no direct route from here to the Iwatodai Station, so you'll have to do some walking to get to the train route that stops there. And even then it may take time for you to find that dorm of yours…"

Minato nodded, patting his new uniform's jacket for the pamphlet that came with his transfer papers. It had a map of the area as well as the address of the Iwatodai dorm that he had been assigned to. It was a bit of a walk from the station, but nothing he couldn't handle.

His aunt smiled, encouraging. "All right, then. Off you go." She waved as he started down the path. Though she had offered to drive him to the station, he declined, mindful of her work schedule. "Take care of yourself, Minato-kun!"

He waved over his shoulder, adjusting the straps of his bags until they were rearranged more comfortably. When he was a sufficient distance away, he slipped on his headphones and pressed play. The heavy beats flooded in and soon he was immersed in the flow, letting the music carry him onward.

The train ride was long, but he'd dealt with worse modes of transportation and for far longer travel times. He could only be thankful for his mp3 player for keeping him relatively occupied and awake enough to listen for his stop. If he had fallen asleep, he might've missed it.

Of course, if he wanted to he could have probably bugged Tamamo into a conversation. Rare was the time that she wasn't willing to chat, likely even more bored than he was, stuck in his head. But the past few days she had been rather quiet, and he was reluctant to interrupt.

When he had asked if something was wrong, she told him only that she was fine and was simply concentrating on something.

Curious, he had wondered if he could "dive in", as she phrased it, and see what kept her so busy. Is it something big? Another ability?

The ones that she developed were pretty neat, in his opinion, especially after she practiced with them a while. The ability she used to shield him from nightmares while growing up, for instance, had progressed from plain shields to what seemed like a full barrier, lighting up the dark space of his mind like a makeshift starlit night sky.

"No, not really," Tamamo had replied, tone distracted. "Don't worry, Minato. I'm pretty much just introspecting at this point." He felt her presence brush against him—her version of pushing him along. "Just focus on yourself for a while. Get used to your new surroundings and whatnot. I'm just fine."

Thus, he was stuck with only his music for company, watching the scenery of Japan rush by. He was all too eager to get off the train and stretch his legs when his stop arrived, grabbing the directions he wrote to get to the other train line that would take him to the Iwatodai station.

The streets were busy as he passed, crowded to the point of making him feel mildly claustrophobic. Minato focused on ignoring them, pausing briefly to turn his music up louder before continuing on his way.

By the time he boarded the train, he was all but sighing in relief at escaping the crowds. There were so many people… Too many, in his opinion. They crowded the streets like ants, gathering to the point that their numbers seemed endless. Not for the first time, he wondered if they would react the same way as ants if he introduced a little chaos in their midst and scatter, wildly breaking formation in their panic.

There was a light tap from the back of his mind and Minato stifled the urge to grin. It never failed to amuse him when he could manage to exasperate Tamamo enough to deliver her little mental slap upside the head.

(She had worked so hard to get the feeling right, too.)

Still busy?

"Nope," Tamamo said airily. "I wasn't really busy in the first place. Just… distracted."

Minato cocked his head to the side. With what?

She sent him an image of something (that was another of her little abilities she'd honed over time; she called it "projection"). Minato frowned when the image entered the forefront of his mind, trying to make sense of it.

It looked like a school blackboard, covered with writing. The shapes of the characters she used were familiar, but they certainly weren't in Japanese. Was that English?

He sent the question to her. She hummed in response.

"Yes. I default to writing it, it seems, though I can read and understand Japanese thanks to you." It sounded as if she was muttering, making him wonder if he was meant to hear all that. Then, somewhat louder, she explained, "I retain a lot of memories of… well, different things. I was just trying to get them all organized to refresh myself."

It was times like those that it occurred to Minato that his Other—as he still secretly called her sometimes simply because it was habit—was quite an enigma. All the readings he'd idly done over time, plus all the shows and movies he'd watched, had told him much about people with voices in their heads. He had done the research initially in order to keep her voice in his head, so terrified he was of being abandoned by his only constant since childhood (which was probably worrying in and of itself).

Just about none of what he found meant good for him and for her.

And yet, while she was definitely a voice in his head and not an imaginary friend, as some of his ruder cousins liked to tease him about, Tamamo often felt like something much more. She wasn't just a mish-mash of random or disturbing utterances and, while she instructed him on what to do sometimes, she didn't try to force him into anything. She thought and considered and learned, often to both their benefits.

Minato didn't know exactly what his Other was. Couldn't define her. And he respected the fact that she wasn't willing to tell just yet, fumbling around with halfhearted answers that told him she wasn't quite sure either. He only told her once that he believed they had a symbiotic relationship. She blandly told him that she was flattered he compared her to a parasite, but ultimately agreed. It was the best description either of them could come up with thus far.

Shaking his head from his thoughts, Minato ruefully added this instance to his ever-growing list of questions to ask her about later, when she was willing to answer them. Then, filing the list away, he settled further into his seat.

So what do you think this Tatsumi Port Island place will be like?

"It'll absolutely change your life," Tamamo drawled before pointing out, "You've lived there before."

I know, but I hardly remember it.

She chuckled. "True. Still, I think it'll be fine. All I know about it are bits and pieces, but even on that pamphlet it looked like a nice place."

Yeah… He sighed. I guess what I'm most worried about is the new school. Been the new kid so many times, but…

"You'll be fine, Minato." There was a small brush on the back of his mind; a gentle pat on the head. "Your new school might have a few… surprises, but just take it in stride."

There was something odd about the way she said that last part, but Minato didn't dwell on it. If she wanted to clarify, she would.

It was dark when the train finally rolled to a stop at the Iwatodai station. Tamamo grumbled about delays all the way out of the train and he resisted the urge to laugh.

What're you complaining about? At least you didn't have to sit through the extra time on those godawful seats.

"Maybe not, but the stronger emotions and sensations you experience, the more likely it is to drift back to me—shield or no shield," Tamamo said. He could almost see her analyzing the barrier in his mindscape, frowning in the way she did when she thought something was inadequate. "Besides, it looked uncomfortable. Imagination is pretty much all I need to feel sore."

Minato snorted, about to reply, but was interrupted when the power cut out all around him and the world was bathed in a familiar green hue. He blinked in surprise when it happened and peered around at the clock set up on the station, ignoring the blood-like substance that dripped down its surface. Midnight.

Oh wow, it is late.

"And you've got class tomorrow. So let's get a move on and find your dorm so you can sleep." Despite her casual words, his Other sounded uncomfortable.

Deciding not to point it out, Minato shifted his bags and started walking. His footsteps echoed eerily along the still streets, coffins lining the buildings and sometimes scattered along the roads themselves. Minato paid them no attention, weaving around them almost carelessly as he kept track of what street he was on relative to the directions he wrote out to find the dorm.

Eventually, the Iwatodai dorm building came into view. He double-checked the address, confirming it for what it was, before walking up to the doors and tugging one open. Stepping in, he set aside his bags and was mildly surprised when someone called out to him.

"Welcome." It was the high, childish voice of a young boy. Turning his head, Minato found the child standing by the counter to the side. Blue eyes, almost too bright to be real and practically glowing, stared back at him, a slight smile on a cherubic, paper-pale face. "You're late. I've been waiting a long time."

It was creepy, Tamamo thought. Even creepier than watching it happen in the game, when Pharos was just the "Mysterious Boy" whose identity was, as stated, a mystery.

And if she couldn't hear his thoughts broadcasting right now, she would have found Minato's lack of reaction just as creepy. She certainly had while playing the game. As it was, she just had to refrain from snorting when he thought, louder than he probably wanted, What the absolute hell?

The undercurrent of disbelief shone through like a beacon, bright and strong. She could pick out the scattered thoughts of him being more tired than he thought he was from travel if he was hallucinating now.

After all, this was the first time he'd seen anyone active during this time besides himself, his thoughts read, and what would a kid be doing in a high school student dorm anyway, especially so late at night?

A swing and a miss, Tamamo thought, but c'est la vie.

"I see him, too. He's there," she assured Minato. Then, blinking, she said, "Actually, I wonder how hallucinations would work on us since even though I'm in your head, we still have separate minds."

In some ways, she still didn't understand how that worked. Not that she was complaining. Even she wouldn't want to fully share a mind with herself if given the choice. She was rather glad Minato had not been subjected to it.

You're not helping, was Minato's bland reply.

Tamamo shrugged, remorseless, as she watched him take the pen to sign the contract Pharos produced. The single most important line, so innocuous and yet so binding, stood out against the other text as Minato printed his name below it.

Then, Pharos took the contract, bade Minato farewell, and faded into the dark.

As he melted away from Minato's sight, Tamamo spun around, spooked, when she heard Death's door creak open behind her. It stilled when her eyes fell upon it, as if acting innocent.

Uneasy, Tamamo watched the door for several long moments more, only vaguely listening as Yukari confronted Minato—another person still awake and moving? he thought—and pulled out her Evoker—his alarm rang high and clear—before Mitsuru's voice halted them.

By the time Tamamo felt comfortable enough to turn her back on Death's door again to watch the events play out, the Dark Hour had ended and Mitsuru was approaching, looking every bit as calm and poised as her in-game counterpart.

To be honest, Minato wasn't feeling entirely certain, or safe, being unarmed in a room with two girls bearing guns. As the red-haired, older female drew closer, he edged back as subtly as possible, angling his body for possible escape.

The girl in pink still had her gun drawn, after all.

The redhead gave a distantly polite smile, all business. "I didn't think you'd arrive so late. My name is Mitsuru Kirijo. I'm one of the students who live in this dorm."

Minato could only nod warily. He didn't bother to apologize or offer excuses for his lateness—not after that fiasco of a first meeting. Maybe that was why the kid made a run for it.

The girl in pink (still holding her gun), moved just the smallest bit closer to the older woman, eyeing him suspiciously. She asked, in a low tone, "Who's he?"

"He's a transfer student, Minato Arisato," Mitsuru replied at a normal volume. Her red eyes, darker than Tamamo's and less warm, more analytical, glanced over at him in a speculative fashion before returning to the other girl. "It was a last minute decision to assign him here. He'll eventually be moved to a room in the boys' dorm."

The brunette shifted uncomfortably. "Is it okay for him to be here?"

Minato wondered if he should bother with feeling insulted by the fact that she was still talking as if he wasn't right in front of them. At least Mitsuru seemed cognizant that he was quite clearly listening in.

"I guess we'll see," Mitsuru said before turning more fully his way. She made a short gesture to the girl beside her. "This is Yukari Takeba. She'll be a junior this spring, just like you."

Yukari, thus introduced, sent him a grimace of a smile. "…Hey."

Minato eyed her, careful not to give any tells on his face. When she shifted her weight, looking awkward, he asked the question that had been burning away in his mind since their appearance. "Is there a reason why you have a gun?"

…that you seem to be ready to pull on a hair-trigger? he finished silently in his mind.

Tamamo snorted. Minato was actually surprised at how quiet she was being. His Other was normally such a worrywart about everything even remotely related to his health that he would have thought the sight of a gun would have her railing at him to leave immediately. Maybe she was in shock?

Yukari gave a very shaky explanation about a hobby that was not a hobby and Minato could only think that she needed to work on her lying skills. Thankfully for Yukari, Mitsuru smoothly intervened, citing self-defense and excusing it with the fact that it was, apparently, not an actual gun.

Minato eyed it dubiously as Yukari tucked it back in its holster. But he flicked his gaze to Mitsuru and gave a short nod in understanding. He didn't quite accept it, but, well, he had no proof otherwise. And he didn't exactly want to give her a chance to prove it, either.

Mitsuru nodded back before turning, eyeing the clock on the dorm wall. "It's getting late, so you should get some rest. Your room is on the second floor, at the end of the hallway," she informed him. There was a short pause before she added, "Your things should already be there."

The two girls then seemed to share a small conversation in a look. Yukari jerked. "Oh." She stepped forward with a hesitant smile. "I'll show you the way. Follow me."

Gathering the last of his bags that he had left on the floor by the dorm's entrance, he followed Yukari to the back of the lounge, giving Mitsuru a courteous nod as he passed, and climbed up the stairs behind her.

His weariness rose the closer he got to his assigned room, piling on the hours of sitting on stiff seats and other traveling aches and pains. The little adrenaline rush that appeared the moment he saw the gun drawn had mitigated that somewhat, but now that it was gone he was feeling even more exhausted than before. He could barely listen to Yukari talk—something about a key?—and, oh. She asked him something.

What a time to zone out. Ignoring the girl that drew a gun on him for entering the dorm late was probably hazardous to his health, wasn't it?

"She just wants to know if you have any questions," Tamamo told him softly.

God bless his Other.

"Mm…" Minato tilted his head, trying to keep the urge to sleep at bay. "…Does that kid live here, too?"

Yukari sent him an odd look. "What kid? What are you talking about…?" Her face went strangely pale. "C'mon, it's not funny."

"…Oh! That's right," Tamamo said with all the air of one experiencing an epiphany.

What's right?

"I just remembered something, that's all," she replied. She began muttering to herself in distracted tones (something about ghosts), telling him that her attention was elsewhere. Was she working on that blackboard thing again?

"…hey. Hey! You in there?"

Startled, Minato refocused and found a hand being waved in his face. Yukari, noticing he was back in reality, lowered said hand with a small frown.

"Wow, you must be really tired. Sorry, but I just have one more question," she said. She looked troubled. "Was everything, er, okay on your way here?"

Minato blinked slowly, trying to think of anything out of the ordinary that happened on his way to the dorm. Nothing in particular came to mind. "Yeah."

"I see…" The anxious expression on her face didn't fade even as she shook her head. "Never mind, then. I'll just be going. Goodnight."

Too tired to think of doing anything more, Minato entered his room without further ado and all but collapsed on his bed. He didn't even bother changing out of his uniform, despite the wrinkles that were sure to accumulate when he woke up.

As he sank into sleep, he felt Tamamo's presence rise up to meet him, pulling him deeper into the safety of his mind. He didn't resist. She would watch over him, as she always had. The silent sentinel of his dreams.

Distantly, he wondered if she still dreamed.

It was a good thing that Minato had been so exhausted that he fell asleep almost instantly when Tamamo met him in his mind. It allowed her to guide him safely to the deeper levels of his subconscious just before her little neighbor decided to finally make his appearance. Outside of the Dark Hour, too, she noted. Though she supposed that didn't matter, as they were both in Minato's head.

"How strange," said the avatar of Death. "You are here just as I am, and yet we are not the same."

Tamamo eyed him, not quite wary but not fully relaxed either. He didn't have his memories, not yet, but he was not at the point of understanding humans either. He was still otherworldly in a way that her human mind could not fully comprehend. If she could still be called human, at any rate, parasitic spirit that she was.

"That's true, I guess," she said eventually. She spoke slowly, testing the waters. The yet unnamed Pharos only looked back at her, that slight and empty smile on his face. She smiled wryly in return. "We're very different, actually."

Not-Yet-Pharos's bright blue gaze left her and instead took in the mental barrier system she had in place around Minato's mind, visible by the faint shimmer they gave in the dark space.

Sometimes, Tamamo thought about changing the look of Minato's mindscape—now that she had a handle on mental construction it would be easy even without Minato's help—but the dark had grown comforting over the years she had existed there. Which was a surprise, as she had not been very fond at all of being in the dark, physically or metaphorically, in her past life.

However, as she saw Pharos's eyes trace the shimmering mental shield, it was nearly worth it if it managed to put that look of intrigue on his face. The first time she had constructed the barrier and set it up, she thought it looked as though she was surrounded by a field of stars.

She wondered if Pharos had ever seen the stars. Or taken the time to appreciate their beauty if he had.

"You protect him," Pharos spoke up once more, eyes still on the shield but focusing on a certain spot where it glowed particularly bright. "You are here, but you choose to stay and help him instead of leave." His head tilted, cat-like. "Why do you choose to stay?"

Tamamo looked away this time, gaze linking on to the same point his was. "I don't really have a choice."

What else could she say?

Pharos looked back at her, the smile on his face widening. "It seems we all have something that we must learn about ourselves."

His tone was full of implications, but try as she might, Tamamo couldn't seem to grasp what he was trying to say.

He chuckled. "As you said, we are very different. And yet, we are still similar. You should… keep that in mind." And then he faded, his presence returning to Death's door.

Tamamo stared at the spot he previously occupied. Then, hypocritical as it was, cursed how everyone in the Persona universe had to be so cryptic.

The introduction to Gekkoukan High didn't go half as badly as Minato had expected it would. He had wanted to go alone to get a fresh look at it while attracting as little attention as possible, but Yukari's (and Mitsuru's, he supposed) good intentions kind of ruined that. It made him uncomfortable to already be approached with weird (and unsubtle) questions during the welcoming ceremony and hear whispers throughout the day, but he supposed he'd heard worse.

Then he met Junpei Iori. There were some ulterior motives behind the other guy approaching him, sure, but at least he had the guts to approach Minato upfront rather than in hushed conversations where open retaliation would be frowned upon.

Minato could respect that sort of forthright behavior.

Yukari's approach just then was a bit of a downer, though. Minato wasn't sure if he could tolerate the rude tone she used, but then again she and Junpei apparently knew one another. Maybe that was just their dynamic?

"Looks like we're in the same homeroom," Yukari started, looking his way and all but dismissing Junpei.

Minato wondered what she wanted. "Yeah, I know." It was kind of hard to miss, really. She was seated right in front of him.

Despite his dry answer, she smiled. "Funny, huh?"

He didn't think so, but thankfully Junpei spoke up again, interrupting whatever he could have said. He got straight to the point, too, asking them to tell him about why they came to school together.

"High schoolers," Tamamo scoffed. "You gossip about the weirdest things sometimes. It's your first day here at this school and everyone wants to know what? The transfer student coming in with the popular girl. Of course. How… cliché."

Better than being told I was haunted, he reasoned.

"At least that one was somewhat truthful," Tamamo shot back. She paused. "And done with good intentions."

Then, Yukari said something stupid ("Oi, Minato. That's rude."). Or rather, she asked something stupid. "You didn't say anything to anyone about… you know what, did you?"

Honestly, she was just saying that she was worried about people talking about them coming to school together and then she words a question like that. Couldn't she have phrased it any other way?

He didn't reply, thoroughly speechless, which only seemed to perturb the brunette more. "Seriously! Don't say anything about last night, all right?"

That was even worse.

"Hey now, it's just foot-in-mouth syndrome at its finest," Tamamo said. She sounded far too amused. "Maybe a bit of word vomit, too."

And now Junpei was staring at them with wide eyes.

Shit.

"You should… be careful about how you say things," Minato suggested, with difficulty, before things could devolve any further.

Yukari blinked at him. "Huh?"

"'Don't say anything about last night'…?" he parroted before jerking a thumb in Junpei's direction.

The brunette appeared to visibly soak in her own words, following his gesture to the gaping Junpei. She colored. "H—Hey! Wait! That's not—I mean, no! Stop it! Don't get the wrong idea!"

"I got to the dorm we're assigned to late last night," Minato cut in with a small sigh. "I was tired, but she and… Kirijo-senpai apparently thought they saw something when I arrived." He shrugged.

Junpei relaxed, comical expression melting away. "Saw something? Wait, you guys live in that one dorm kinda near the station, right? It was probably just a bunch of punks stumbling home drunk."

He sounded a little sour at that, but Minato didn't comment on it. "Probably."

Yukari, still looking flustered, left soon after for club activities, but not before warning Junpei to not spread rumors.

Junpei watched her go, looking partly amused. "She's so paranoid. Like anyone actually takes rumors seriously." Then, turning back to Minato, he grinned. "Anyway, it's your first day here and things are already picking up! This is gonna be a fun year. I can feel it!"

In the back of Minato's head, Tamamo laughed. "He doesn't know the half of it."