Disclaimer:
I do not own the story and the concepts represented in the fiction written. This fiction and all Persona-related fictions belong to Atlus, the wonderful company that created the games.
Author's Note:
As you can tell, these chapters will be pretty short, capturing small scenes from the game, featuring different perspectives, and eventually diverging from the canon. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and liked my story. Special thanks to reviewers:
PRemington900, prince of underbrush, Handsomistic1, and rebfan90.
Before
4/10
"You have to do more. You don't do enough." Were her father's words to her that morning.
A student, a delinquent no less, was transferring to her school. She was up so early, attired in her school uniform under her pink cardigan. She was told, or directed, by her father, from the school to be the new student's – what did the school say – mentor.
This sudden and off-putting arrangement was because her father, Kunikazu Okumura, believed she didn't do enough. To appeal to her oh-so-wonderful suitors, yes, there were a couple; she had to distinguish herself as someone valuable. Value meant service, intelligence, beauty, power, and so on. The list was ever-expanding, and so were the obligations required to achieve perfection until she was sold off.
So that was why Haru Okumura was disposed of near her school a day before the school year officially began on this sullen, early morning. She'd meet this delinquent student, occasionally mentor him, guide him, and measure his progress. They couldn't have chosen a more ill-fitting person for this responsibility, Haru thought. How was she to rightfully influence anyone when she was nothing but a marionette, pulled by the whims of others. Maybe by doing to him as she had been done to by her father. Demanded perfection only to complain about her failures (when, in actuality, she succeeded every time).
She met the delinquent and someone wearing a white suit by the school gates. Haru bowed politely to the older male, then turned to the troublemaker himself to say some words. The words stopped in her throat. She felt a sharp restriction of air.
"So, you must be this kid's mentor, right?"
Haru snapped her attention to the older male. "Y-yes. Nice to meet you. My name is Haru Okumura."
"Likewise," said the man. "My name is Sojiro Sakura." He glanced at the boy. "This here's the kid. Come on, tell her your name."
"Nice to meet you, Okumura-san," the young man said. "My name is Akira Kurusu."
Akira Kurusu, Haru thought to herself. What a peculiar name.
She looked at the boy and felt the sharp tightening of her throat again. While at times slow at understanding the events around her, Haru was perfectly aware of her own emotions due to her sheltered lifestyle. For the first time in her life, she felt a sudden attraction for a boy her age. He was taller than her with shaggy black hair, an angular face, round dark eyes, and glasses; the school uniform was stylish on him.
"Ah, Okumura-san," said Sakura.
Haru jumped. "Y-yes, um, Haru is fine."
The older male chuckled, casting a knowing look at the somber-faced young man. "Haru-chan, then. Shall we proceed?"
"Yes, let's. I believe the teacher and principal are waiting inside."
"Good. Now come on, kid," Sakura said gruffly.
Haru trailed behind the twosome, watching the back of the troublemaker's head intensely. The meeting between the principal and Ms. Kawakami was more uncomfortable than she expected. They treated the young man as a stain on the establishment. More than once, she found herself almost speaking up to defend Kurusu, but she quickly repressed the unexplainable urges. Her thoughts were clouded. It didn't matter how innocent-looking he appeared. Akira Kurusu was a troublemaker, she reminded herself. Of course, she received the shallow praise adults always gave her when she offered her time to others unwillingly. They would most likely remain on her father's good side and continue to receive some form of donations throughout the year.
Ms. Kawakami explained to Kurusu the procedure for the first day of school. Kurusu was to meet Haru before the school day began to proceed to the facility office. There, he'd receive a lecture; then, time would be allocated to plan the mentorship. The mentorship would include tutoring, advice, and assistance in whatever else would help the young man in his rehabilitation. All in all, Haru was to be a life coach. It was almost laughable, considering how she needed so much assistance to maintain the pristine image her father expected of her.
With the meeting over, Sakura and Kurusu waited for Haru by the entrance. As suggested by the principal, it would be beneficial for the two of them to exchange numbers. Something so casual had Haru's head spinning. She had never exchanged numbers with someone unrelated to her father's business – much less a boy. She didn't have any friends.
With the deed done, Haru said, "If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to contact me."
To Haru's disappointment, the boy nodded and said nothing. He was even quieter than she was evidently. Sakura, however, thought differently from the boy's silence.
"Hey, your upperclassman is doing a lot for you here. Show your appreciation, or is gratitude something you'll have to learn too."
Haru wanted to tell the older man that it was ok, that anyone would be silent in this situation. Still, secretly she was pleased when Kurusu turned to her and said, "Thank you very much, Okumura-senpai."
"Haru," she said.
"Hm?"
The young woman cleared her throat, which felt tied in knots. "Please, call me Haru."
Kurusu smiled. It was a delightful thing, Haru decided.
"Thank you very much, Haru-senpai."
The twosome departed, and Haru walked in the opposite direction where a black limousine was waiting for her. Her father would perhaps want a summary of how the meeting went. Most likely, he wouldn't and completely forget about the promotional activity. Haru was satisfied with whichever outcome. She just wanted the boy with unkempt hair to speak again in his soft, clear voice. So much that she was looking forward to tomorrow.