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: Okay, it's been a while, but I actually have a reason for my absence in that my laptop had decided to fritz out on me a while back. It was some sort of virus? It freaked me the hell out either way because it had my laptop acting like it was possessed—the mouse was moving erratically on its own on the screen, my internet browser opened like a million pages at once, and so on. I could literally do nothing even after multiple restarts and the like. Then, when I managed to finally get some free time to get it fixed, I found out that I lost what I'd already written of this chapter and some notes I'd been making for future ones…

In short, I had a bit of a BSOD. It was so discouraging, let me tell you, and I am ashamed to say that I let it get the best of me for a while. But I've recently slapped myself upside the head and reminded myself that I mostly remember how the original chapter went and what my notes were, so I've gotten back to writing it. And backing it up. Excessively. Still, apologies for the prolonged wait and if this chapter seems lackluster (it's the mandatory recovery period, though, so I could only do so much, haha). But enough of the behind-the-scenes—onwards, good readers!

Symbiosis

Chapter Thirty-Five

When his fellow members of SEES finally arrived, it was Mitsuru who led the way, followed by her fellow seniors. Fuuka was behind them, looking apprehensive and determined, but that quickly melted away into surprise when she saw Chidori in her icy cage.

"Oh, damn…" Akihiko muttered as soon as he stepped onto the roof. He quickly removed his combat gloves and strode across the short distance to Minato. Kneeling down, he took a brief moment to look Minato over before working at the ropes that bound him.

Minato murmured a tired thanks that the upperclassman waved off, but his eyes watched the open doorway as Mitsuru and Shinjiro left it to approach Chidori. Tendrils of dread crept up his spine as Yukari appeared, her expression morphing into shock when she saw him, followed quickly by Ken, Aigis, and Koromaru. Then, finally, Junpei…

"Whoa," the other teen said as he cleared the doorway. "You look like crap, Minato!" He grinned, gaze flicking briefly to the side to where Mitsuru and Shinjiro stood, quietly conversing. "Must've been some…" His voice trailed, grin fading. Slowly, and clearly reluctant, his eyes turned back to the sight his brain must have been trying to deny. "…battle…"

Minato sighed when he saw his friend's face fall as the information of who, exactly, was trapped in the cage clearly caught up with him.

"Chidori…?" The sound of her name was both a call and a question left unfinished.

The girl herself twitched slightly at his voice—the only movement Minato had seen since her Evoker was taken away—but otherwise didn't react.

That was when Ikutsuki barged his way onto the roof. "I heard you all come up, what on Earth are you all…?" He gasped, sounding authentically shocked when he saw Chidori. "How did she—I didn't hear a thing!"

Really?

Not that Minato expected anything different, but just… really? How could he not have? They'd been fighting. Chidori had likely dragged his unconscious body up the damn stairs. Both of them had yelled out in response to their own pain, had tumbled across the roof more than once to dodge each other's attacks, and this bastard felt like he could just hide behind his ditzy façade and just—there were cameras, working cameras, on the roof during the Dark Hour and he just—!

Suddenly, Minato found himself very, very glad that Succubus was already dismissed. Between the Persona's innate cruelty, his Other's lingering anger, and his own kneejerk reaction, he wasn't sure he could've stopped himself from doing something stupid. Like trying to kick the chairman off the roof, for instance.

"I can easily change that…" Tamamo muttered scornfully.

"There we go," Akihiko spoke up, interrupting Minato before he could reply. The boxer tugged at Minato's binds in one area, shifting to another, before finally pulling them loose. When Minato slipped free of the ropes, letting out a breath of relief, Akihiko stood, looking over him with a critical eye. "Were you injured? Fuuka said you were in a fight against her." He tipped his head in Chidori's direction.

All Minato wanted to do was slink off to his room and sleep, but he acknowledged that was probably a bad idea. "She knocked me out before. Hit my head with something heavy." Not to mention the damage inflicted during the actual fight, regardless of how most of the attacks never showed up physically. But that was a given.

Akihiko nodded, turning to address the others. "Hey, Yukari!" He waved the girl over. She responded promptly, sparing a concerned glance for Minato where he remained seated. "Stay with him for a bit? Make sure he stays conscious; he might have a concussion. I'm gonna go ask Mitsuru if we can get a doctor to check him out."

Looking alarmed, the archer agreed and stayed put as Akihiko jogged away. Gingerly, she sat down near Minato, lifting a hand to beckon over both Fuuka, who hovered worriedly between the groups but gladly headed over, and Junpei, who ignored her in his distraction.

"This is ridiculous," Yukari muttered as Fuuka neared. "Dealing with these Strega creeps on top of these operations…? Ugh, I can't wait until all those Shadows are gone."

In spite of himself, Minato snorted.

If only she knew.

In the end, Mitsuru did manage to call for a doctor. The Kirijo Group consisted of many branches, after all. And with how dangerous the Dark Hour was, it was no surprise that there were numerous individuals with medical expertise who, like Ikutsuki and President Takeharu Kirijo himself, could remain conscious and aware during the Dark Hour but not have enough potential for Personas.

Of course, the Dark Hour ended before the physician actually arrived, but at the very least they hadn't prolonged Minato's suffering by making him wait until the end.

While Minato was checked out, the other members of SEES debated on what to do with Chidori—once they got her out of her little prison, anyway. According to Shinjiro, the ice was "damn tough" even without the supernatural air of the Dark Hour aiding it and didn't look to be melting anytime soon. It was actually rather perplexing to them, and the older members of SEES plus Ikutsuki were especially curious of the substance and why it lingered physically when, usually, Persona abilities faded after the initial strike.

…Or so Fuuka told him, summarizing what had gone on the roof when Minato was led down to the lounge to be better examined.

When Minato, feeling more than a little exhausted, opened his mouth to ask why she was telling him all of this when he could barely think straight, Tamamo gently hushed him. "I asked. She doesn't have Lucia summoned so we can't have full conversations without dragging you through it, but I managed to ask her to let us—let me—know what happens. This is the easiest way." She let out her own tired chuckle. "Good thing, too. I don't know how you should answer if they ask you about the ice right now, but at least we can be a little more prepared in case they do."

Unable to formulate a response, Minato could only bob his head, hoping that at least some sliver of gratitude got through to both his Other and Fuuka. He was careful not to give anything away, keeping his face straight from years of practice, but he couldn't help but feel bad. The two girls often coordinated things together, especially in Tartarus, with Minato acting as some cross of a go-between and a distraction for the rest of SEES, asking questions and requesting information so Fuuka could fill them all in without appearing more omniscient than she was. With Minato's condition now, however, he was barely coherent.

"You just went up against a more experienced Persona user long before you should have ever had to fight her," Tamamo interrupted his thoughts before he could fall further into self-deprecation. "She might not be the toughest boss around, but given that you were alone and tied up, you can easily be forgiven for not escaping unscathed."

He huffed, a wry smile forming on his lips as he pointedly didn't argue. He was honestly too tired to, and he knew she had a point.

…Can I go to sleep yet?

Tamamo chuckled. "Not yet. Just a little longer."

Taking a deep breath, Minato sagged further into his seat, blinking hard to get rid of the sleepiness from his eyes—if only temporarily. A dull throb of a headache pulsated in the space between his temples, present but not quite unbearable. He had the foreboding feeling that it would be only the first of many headaches he would be having in the months to come, but did his best to shove the anxiety that accompanied the thought down.

"One step at a time", he was beginning to realize, was going to quickly become his motto.

The verdict on Minato's health was typical of patients with head injuries. After consulting with Mitsuru and the others for a better feel of how their battles affected them, the Kirijo doctor had advised him to take it easy the next few days and play things by ear. He would have to be monitored for the first twenty-four hours whenever he slept, which was easily accepted and shared by the other members of SEES—made easier by the fact that it was Saturday (or technically very early Sunday) so at least there wasn't class the immediate next day.

It was also advised that he stayed at the dorm for a while to continue resting, rather than go to school—at least for a few days. The physician had admitted, however, that studies showed that Persona users could be anomalies when it came to healing and recovery, with some requiring the time "normal people" needed to heal from wounds while others had had accelerated healing capable of reducing their recovery time with the help of their Personas.

(Minato very carefully did not look at Junpei when the elder man relayed all this to the group, though he still wondered if the other boy was making the connections about Chidori anyway.)

In the end, with a warning for Minato to check in to the ER if he felt worse and a request for the others to keep an eye on him while he recovered, the doctor left to a chorus of thanks from SEES. Then, without anything else pressing on them, Minato was ushered up the stairs to rest with a reminder to not lock his door so his dormmates could check up on him every other hour or so.

Gingerly, he changed out of his uniform and into his sleepwear before sinking down onto his bed. For a moment, he simply lay there, just breathing. His head was still throbbing, a little worse now, but at least not at just-shoot-me-migraine levels. Nowhere near the violent and stunning pain brought by Chidori's Agidyne. Just a mocking shade of it, like sore wounds.

Tamamo hummed, accompanied by a gentle brush through his mind.

Minato closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was in his mindscape. He could tell by the feel of water lapping at his sides that he was lying in the shallow lake that now represented his Other's corner of his mind. It was cool, but not uncomfortable. He savored the feeling.

Fingers combed gently through his hair and he tilted his head back to find Tamamo all but curled around him, chin propped up on her free hand as she stared off into the distance, humming. Not quite close enough for her to be right against him, but still close. All he had to do was reach out and touch her, if he wanted to.

"Rest, Minato," she said, interrupting her humming before he could decide. She cast him a sidelong look, bicolored eyes tired and reluctantly amused. "I thought you couldn't wait to sleep."

"I will," he told her. Then, feeling distinctly like the child he had been when she first woke up, a companion and a constant even when his parents had died, he asked, "Stay with me?"

Tamamo looked at him fully then, blinking with surprise.

It was embarrassing—he hadn't asked that since he was at least nine and bedridden with the flu (the stress from moving around so much was killer on the immune system, who knew?)—but he forced himself not to look away. This was Tamamo. This was his Other. If there was anyone he could afford to show weakness to, it was her.

A wry smile slowly dawned on her face. When she opened her mouth, he preemptively braced himself for her now usual statement of how unhealthy their dependence on each other was. But she only gave a small chuckle and said, "At this point, I sincerely doubt you can get rid of me."

If he could have, he would have laughed. As it was, he simply let out a small, amused huff. "Never."

"Wha—" Tamamo's hand retreated from his hair as she spluttered, embarrassment clear even without the need for their bond to tell him. She fell quiet soon enough, muttering under her breath with quiet indignity. A beat later, though, and her hand resumed combing through his hair, gentle as ever.

And as he finally fell asleep, he smiled.

All Sunday, Minato slept with the occasional check-in by the other members of SEES. Fuuka was, predictably, one of his visitors. From what he could recall of his hazy memories of the visit, she told him that Mitsuru and Akihiko would be going to see and interrogate Chidori, whom they had eventually gotten out of the ice cage. Yukari had visited as well, reporting much the same thing and that she had gone to check him before leaving to join up with the seniors. Afterwards, Shinjiro was, surprisingly, another one of his visitors. As was Ken.

Junpei had checked in later on as well, and it twisted at Minato to see his friend look so lost and troubled when he didn't think Minato could see. A few times, the other boy had made to say something after waking Minato, but eventually he gave up, offered Minato a cheesy grin and called him "Sleeping Beauty".

I hope you're right about Chidori, he thought after Junpei left his room, making up an excuse that he had homework to complete.

Junpei. Homework. Honestly.

A contradicting blend of lingering annoyance and pity flared up at his words, but Tamamo didn't reply otherwise.

On Monday, the other SEES members went to class, with Mitsuru checking in on him in the morning. He'd passed the critical observation point a while ago so it wasn't entirely necessary, but the red-haired upperclassman had seemed amused as she informed him that she was making sure he wasn't trying to sneak off to class anyway.

Minato, who woke with a pounding in his head that couldn't seem to decide whether it wanted to stay a headache or upgrade to a migraine, assured her that he wouldn't be moving anytime soon.

That ended up being a bit of a lie, since he soon felt he couldn't stay in his room for much longer without feeling a little stir-crazy. But he didn't move far. Just to the lounge, where he sprawled out on the couch and enjoyed the silence with Koromaru for company.

He slipped in and out of consciousness, catching glimpses of the day as it passed him by—both in his mindscape and not. A breath, and he would see Tamamo teaching Pharos how to weave flower crowns. Another, and Ken would be looking over him with concern as he entered the dorm, fresh from his elementary school classes. At some point, someone forced him to drink water and shoved a plain sandwich in his hand, which he ate halfheartedly.

When, exactly, he returned to his room he didn't know—if he traveled there alone or had help. But another glass of water and sandwich waited for him on his bedside table when he next opened his eyes. He took them dutifully with more than a little gratitude for his friends and teammates for their patience and thoughtfulness.

He was drifting off again before long, the sound of a soft tune played on a lyre drifting over his ears. A voice accompanied the sound, a low and steady timbre, joined occasionally by the slightly hesitant voice that Minato recognized as his Other's. It took a bit of effort, but he eventually mustered up the will to open his eyes if only the slightest bit, even as the soothing music tempted him to return to his restful oblivion.

The scene that greeted him was a serene one. Orpheus was floating in a seated position over the shallow lake, mechanical fingers skillfully plucking and strumming the strings he was master of. Though the mask that was his face barely moved, incapable of producing fully human expressions, he provided the vocals that Minato listened to. Every so often, the Persona gave a small nod to signal Tamamo to join him from where she sat at the water's edge, adding her voice to his in gentle harmony.

The last thing Minato saw before he fully faded was Pharos, who sat completely still by Tamamo's side (and wearing a flower crown, to Minato's tired amusement). His blue eyes were deep and fathomless as he stared, unblinking, at the sky full of fake stars above.

Vaguely, Minato wondered if Death had ever had the opportunity to sit so still before. To sit and observe and simply listen.

On Tuesday, Minato went to the hospital to be looked over, accompanied by Mitsuru and Akihiko, who were taking that time to visit Chidori, who was being kept in an isolated and guarded room. The doctor, who was the same one that had seen to his injury, had given him good news: he was looking much better, so it was likely that he would be able to return to his normal routine. Gradually, of course. If he took the remainder of that day to continue resting and the next day doing light activities without any problems, then he could return to class. Any kendo for his club and "certain other extracurricular activities" would have to wait, though.

It was relieving, in all honesty. Minato didn't think he'd been so inactive since arriving to Port Island. He'd always been running around from one spot to the next, it seemed, that the sudden lack of it made him feel off.

Unfortunately, he still had two days to burn through. Even if he would actually be allowed to do more than shuffle from room to room in the dorm for one.

"From the way you just thought that, it's like you've been under house arrest for months and you've finally reached the end of your sentence," Tamamo murmured, amused. "Teenagers. Always have to be on the move, don't you?"

Don't have to, he thought, idly tracing patterns on the ceiling of his room with his eyes. I guess I just never realized how much I did that suddenly being forced to not do anything is really restricting.

"Ah, so it's the teenage instinct to rebel, is that it?"

Minato huffed, directing his exhale so that his bangs fluttered briefly over his face. But even as he rolled his eyes, he couldn't help the smile that wound its way across his face. Saddest rebellion I ever heard of… He leaned back as she laughed, letting the sound wash over him. What're you doing?

"Trying to contaminate your mindscape," was his Other's reply. The sugary-sweet and innocent tone made him raise his eyebrow.

What?

"Everything's blue!" she whined. "I mean, blue is my favorite color, too, but these days it's all I see! Oh lord, does that count as a pun? I didn't say 'sea', I swear—"

A chuckle escaped before he could stop himself, and his Other's rambling subsided. Even without diving into his mindscape, he could just see her pleased smile at redirecting his sullen and restless thoughts. Okay, okay, I get it. Everything's blue. So what are you doing, exactly?

"I'm making a pink section."

…Like your hair?

"My hair is not pink!" Tamamo cried out with mock indignation. Minato felt a spike of mischievousness just before she continued, "It's a light-ish red."

He blinked. Huh?

A huff was his answer. "It's nothing; just a silly reference. But yes, I'm aiming for something like my hair, but your trees are unsurprisingly stubborn. This one's kind of an ugly-looking purple right now."

Minato gave a thoughtful hum. His eyes trailed to the clock on his nightstand. It was still early afternoon, so it wasn't likely that many of his other dormmates were back yet. He didn't care for television either, so…

A blink, a breath, and—

"Oof! What the—Minato! Argh, I knew this would happen one day, you—"

"Wow. That is an ugly purple."

"At least get off of me first before you start commenting on the décor!"

In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea to spend the majority of the afternoon in his mindscape when he was already feeling restless. Sure, his mind was still active so it wasn't like he was sleeping and refreshing that energy, but his body still wasn't exactly doing much while he was there. This, unfortunately, led to him being unable to sleep as the night hours rolled around, and no amount of tossing and turning in his bed brought him closer to it.

Tamamo could help him, could guide him to sleep as she'd done numerous times before. But when he asked her why she hadn't done so already, she was hesitant.

"You've never had a head injury before," she told him. "Or at least not one so serious. The doctor said you should be okay, but…"

"Should" was not the same as "would". He knew that all too well. On the off-chance that something went wrong, Minato had no doubt that his Other would react… badly, to say the least.

(Whether he would be conscious to witness it or not, he'd already seen her at her most hysterical and guilt-ridden once before. He had no desire to see her like that again if she was the cause of anything happening to him.)

So, without many options left to him with the night well on its way to the Dark Hour and the rest of his dormmates asleep, he got up and decided to see if drinking some tea would help him sleep. If nothing else, the lounge was a much wider space even with the furniture, and he would have an easier time pacing around there than his room.

"It really is a shame." Tamamo hummed as he quietly made his way down the stairs and to the dorm's kitchen. "Nighttime walks were usually quite pleasant where I lived before. Or even nighttime drives, if I wanted to be away longer. Iwatodai and Port Island look like they'd be similarly nice to see at night, if not for the threat of Shadows at midnight. And Strega."

The mention of the rogue Persona-users had his mind flashing to Chidori, and how the meeting between her and the two seniors went earlier. But thinking of Chidori inevitably brought his mind to Junpei, which he had to force his thoughts off of. Concerned as he was for his friend, late night musings would do him no good when he was trying to recover.

So, he only hummed in response as he set a kettle to boil water.

Tamamo likely caught his desire for a different subject, since she went on. Blithely, as if she didn't care for it and was simply talking to hear herself talk, but he could tell. Somehow. "You know, it's kind of funny, actually. My sister, she—wait, have I told you about her before?"

Yes, Minato thought, though he had to think back to the story she'd told him and Pharos about her previous life. The perfectionist?

"Yep, that's the one!" There was a little curl of warmth that told him she was pleased he'd managed to remember. "Anyway, she lived in Japan for a while. She was part of this thing called the JET Program, you see, so she was over here to teach kids. My parents and I would have these video chats with her every so often and she'd tell us tons of stories about the place she was assigned to. I'd grown out of my 'I need to see the world and greener pastures' phase by then so I'd declined her offer to visit when she asked, but… watching life here through your eyes let me realize how similar it all is. Outside of the whole Dark Hour thing, I mean. The customs might be different, and maybe the way people hold themselves, and their history, but…"

There was no sadness, no mournful edge to her words, but the thoughtful way that they rang as she trailed off made Minato curious. Feeling homesick?

"My home is with you," was his Other's reply (and damn if that didn't make him happy and pleased and maybe a little smug). "It's just… nostalgic, I guess. Like finding an old, childhood safety blanket. It's still a part of me in some way. Helped shape me. Sheltered me. I know I don't need it anymore because I've grown up, but the memories are still there. I still cherish them." He got the impression of her tilting her head. "Does that make sense?"

Minato considered her words. Thought back to his own childhood, or what scraps of it he could remember. Those scarce years with his parents before they died—were killed. It probably wasn't exactly the same feeling, but the memory of that warmth… Yeah. I think so.

The next impression he received from Tamamo felt much like a smile. He couldn't help but return it as they lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken only when Minato pulled the kettle off the stove to pour into a cup for his tea. With the steaming beverage in hand, he shuffled his way back to the lounge to enjoy it.

It was a few minutes and a couple of sips later that he paused, listening as someone trudged their way down the stairs.

Shinjiro came into view only moments later, dressed in a strange combination of his usual outer wear and what Minato could only assume were his pajamas. His signature pea coat covered his upper body as securely as usual, but his pants definitely seemed of lighter material than what he wore when he went out. His beanie was absent.

His scowl was not.

"The hell're you doing up?"

The senior's rough voice made his shoulders jump slightly, if only for the difference it made from the previous silence. Unsure of what to say, Minato blinked slowly and glanced at his teacup as if it held all the answers.

Shinjiro seemed to take that as an answer in itself, snorting as he walked further into the lounge rather than returning back up the stairs as Minato half-expected. He took a seat at the other end of the table with heavy, almost dragging movements that rang of exhaustion.

Minato stared at the upperclassman, uncertain of why he chose to stick around or, really, why he'd gone to the lounge in the first place. He could understand the older boy heading out late at night, as he seemed the type, but, other than his coat, Shinjiro looked unsuited for a stroll.

Eventually, the awkward silence made him speak up. "What about you?"

Shinjiro's dark eyes slanted over his way, head tilting ever so slightly from where he had it bowed over the table. "What?"

Minato fidgeted slightly, but didn't look away. He cleared his throat as he repeated, "What about you? Why are you awake right now?"

The expression he earned in response was admirably deadpan. "I've been hanging out later than this at some shady ass places for years. Hard to suddenly stop and be an honor student like Aki and Mitsuru at the drop of a hat." The older boy punctuated his statement with a halfhearted shrug of one shoulder. "Then I heard you sneak down and start making a racket in the kitchen. Figured I'd make sure you didn't go and burn us all to death."

"Makes you wonder if he's had experience saving the kitchen from blowing up before, to say such a thing so casually."

Minato winced, though whether it was because of Shinjiro's words or Tamamo's was anyone's guess. "Sorry. I didn't think anyone else was awake or would mind if I…"

Awkwardly, he trailed off into silence. He attempted to ignore it by focusing on drinking his tea, but his quiet sips suddenly sounded deafening in the quiet lounge.

"…He looks exhausted," Tamamo said, when Minato glanced Shinjiro's way again.

He did, Minato noted. Although his posture could be taken as one of deep thought at first glance, further observation made it apparent that the senior's body was clearly begging for rest. From his bowed head to his sloped shoulders to the slump of his back, it looked as though he were being heavily weighed down and only sheer stubbornness kept him somewhat upright.

"Would you like some tea?" Minato asked, the question ripping itself out before he could actually think about it. "I mean, I couldn't sleep, so I made this tea—there was still some water—well, it might be cooler now, but I could warm some more up?"

Shinjiro straightened, but though he still looked ready to sleep for the next few hours or days, he actually looked a bit amused, too. The line of his shoulders looked less tense, at least. "Just finish yours and go to bed, will you?" He pushed himself from the table and stood. "I'll get my own damn tea."

He shuffled off and Minato tried not to watch him too obviously. When the senior finally disappeared into the kitchen, door swinging shut behind him, Minato slouched further than usual.

Social interaction is tiring…

"Does that even count?" Tamamo snarked.

He chose not to think about it since he didn't exactly have the best track record for such things, choosing instead to follow Shinjiro's command and drain the rest of his tea. Once finished, he took his cup to bring it to the kitchen, but as he neared the door, he froze.

Do you hear that?

Tamamo didn't reply, but there was a spark of feeling from her, like a nudge to be quiet.

Obliging, Minato leaned forward as much as he could without brushing up against the door entirely. He tilted his head so one ear was angled to the kitchen. And even then, he had to strain his hearing to catch what he swore he'd heard.

When nothing happened for several long moments, he wondered if he'd just imagined it.

But then, just before he could straighten up again and barge in, he heard it.

Coughing. Rough and heavy, from deep in the chest. Muffled to the point that if he hadn't been specifically listening for it, he'd have missed it entirely. It sounded wet, too, like it had too much phlegm or—

"Blood," Tamamo murmured.

Unbidden, Minato thought of the date. Thought of the calendar and the next full moon. Thought of Tamamo's warnings.

Shinjiro's death, if events went as Tamamo remembered them, would take place in less than a month.

"No one can escape time," Pharos had told him what felt like so long ago. Back when he'd first arrived to Iwatodai and unknowingly set forth everything into motion. "It delivers us all to the same end."

Minato's fingers tightened around the small, ceramic teacup.

Then, slowly, carefully, he backed away from the kitchen door, strode across the lounge, and bounded up the stairs, carrying the delicate object with him. He could bring it down the next day.

He had a few things to go over with Tamamo in the meantime. Rest be damned.

EXTRA

…Do you see anything?

"Nope."

Are you sure?

"Yep."

Are you really sure?

Other laughed. "Yes, Minato, I'm really sure. There's nothing under your bed. Whatever you saw, it's gone now."

Seven-year-old Minato pushed himself up from where he'd been hanging over the side of the bed, just enough to peek under it without getting caught by the monster that had been lurking in the shadows. Maybe it just wants you to think that.

"Nooooope, I'm pretty sure I scared it away."

He tilted his head, squinting with suspicion. You did?

"Mhm."

How?

"Monsters that live under the bed are really big cowards, you see," Other explained. When Minato only tilted his head further, she elaborated, "Scaredy-cats. They like to scare kids, but they run away when something bigger comes along."

Like my mom and dad? Minato suggested. There was a twinge of sadness when he thought about them. A twist of longing. But it didn't hurt as badly. He was getting better. Other said so.

"Yes," said Other, and she sounded sad, too.

Not wanting to make her sad, Minato quickly asked, But why did they run from you, then? They can't see you. Then, he blinked. Can they?

"Not like you can. Monsters just have a way of sensing other monsters."

Other monsters? That immediately gave Minato pause. You're a monster, Other?

Other snickered. Ah, I'm great. What a wonderful play on words. Minato frowned slightly, not understanding what she meant or why it was funny. But yes, Minato. I am a monster. A bigger monster than the one under your bed.

There was silence as Minato soaked this in. Then, hesitantly, he said, No, you're not…?

"I am," she insisted.

But, he protested, confused, you don't act like a monster? And—And if you are a monster, then why do you live in my head?

"Everyone has a monster that lives in their head," Other told him sagely. "Some more than others. But most don't realize it because not all of those monsters are as friendly and talkative as me."

That… made sense, Minato thought. So you're a friendly monster.

Other hummed in agreement, and with it came a small tendril of warmth, unfurling like a flower. The familiarity and comfort it brought had Minato curling back up on his bed, dragging the covers up.

And you're a bigger monster than the one under the bed?

"Much bigger," she assured him. "And now, that monster knows you're my friend, so they won't bother you anymore."

Really?

"Mhm. But if any others bother you, you let me know, all right?"

Minato could only murmur his own agreement as he rapidly started to fall asleep.

Other chuckled. "Goodnight, Minato."

(Later, when Other asked for a name for herself, Minato would look to his books on mythology and think, very hard, for something suitable. He was eight by then, and was much too old to believe in things like monsters that crept under the bed, but even so, he found himself remembering what Other had told him.)

(Maybe she wasn't quite a monster that lived in his head, as he still had doubts no matter how convincing she'd been. But the thought was a comforting one to turn to. To know that he didn't have to fear anything because he had her, monster or not, and she would be there to help him deal with it.)

(So, with all that in mind, he named her "Tamamo".)

(…And, okay, also because he thought it was funny, in its own way. Other had funny reactions to things that surprised her, like "culture shock" or whatever that was.)