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 fantastic company that created the games.

Author's Note:

I apologize for the late update. Ideally, I'd like to post a chapter at least monthly. Unfortunately, reality has a way of punching those ideals hard on the nose. You know with college, work, and bills. Anyways, this chapter focuses on the past once more. I'm sure most of you have come to understand the layout of the story. Thanks to everyone who has favorited and reviewed. Thank you to those who have reviewed. In regards to reviews, any criticism is valued to improve my writing. Special thanks to:

Erelia, prince of underbrush, KingPlotBunny, rebfan90

Before

4/13

Finding victims of Kamoshida's abuse was relatively easy. After the volleyball game, the hallways were littered with injured students in their P.E. uniforms. Perhaps an exaggeration, but Akira found more and more of Kamoshida's victims on every floor of the school. They weren't hard to identify either. Most sported Band-Aids over their faces, but a few were on crutches or had their arms in a sling.

The most disturbing thing about the situation was the eyes of the abused students. It was as if the light from their eyes had darkened, and all that remained was a deep, dark abyss. It was a complete and open display of despair. More than once, Akira found himself cringing at the sight; it reminded him too much of himself when he was charged with assault. Rounding the corner, Akira slowed his steps to listen to the conversation between two students; one appeared fine, but the other was mangled up.

"Man, cleaning up after the volleyball rally is gonna be such a damn pain…."

"Eh?"

Both students turned toward Akira upon noticing his presence.

"Whaddya want?" said the student who wasn't injured.

Akira raised his head and turned toward the students.

"What? You got something to say?" demanded the injured student.

"How did you get injured?"

The student's eyes widened. "Practice! Our volleyball team plays at a national level! To make it to the top, you've got to accept that things happen."

"Things…like abuse," Akira said, softy. Again, the injured student's body reacted truthfully, while the words tumbling out of his mouth were weak attempts at deception.

"W-what the hell? I don't want to hear this from a murderer!"

Akira sighed, walking off. Another bust to add to the many failed attempts at retrieving information. To make matters worse, every student he'd conversed with somehow managed to sneak his supposed crimes into the conversation. Luckily, Akira's phone beep brought a welcome distraction from the recent string of failures; it was Ryuji. Unluckily, the blond-haired young man was also unsuccessful in his investigation; the pair decided to meet in the courtyard to discuss a new course of action.

O

"Can I talk to you for a sec…?"

Akira turned around to see Ann something-last-name giving him an inquisitive stare. Something told him not to indulge the blond-haired girl, but curiosity prevailed in the end.

"What is it?"

Curiosity is damned, Akira thought soon after. A simple conversation quickly became an interrogation until Ryuji intervened. The blond-haired youth's appearance was enough to discourage the girl. Exchange of words later, she walked off, but not before warning the twosome of Kamoshida.

"Someone, you know?" Akira asked.

"Huh? Oh, well yeah. When we were younger, I guess." Ryuji stabbed the ground with his heel, an action that Akira was starting to notice was habitual for him.

"You got any leads?" asked the blond youth.

Akira shook his head. "No. And you?"

Ryuji smiled; it was an infectious thing. "Actually, yeah. Heard some intel before I got here. Come on. Follow me."

Ryuji led Akira to the school entrance, where a sullen-looking young man was trudging forward with his school bag. Akira recognized him immediately; he was the student who'd suffered a volleyball to the face from Kamoshida himself. And, like the many other volleyball members, his eyes were devoid of any light and hope. Akira had to look away; Ryuji could do the talking.

"Hey," said Ryuji. "Come here for a sec."

The sullen youth turned around, surprise evident on his face. "Sakamoto," he said, then glanced at Akira. "And…you too."

I have a name, Akira thought. As with the many others, the young man firmly denied anything incriminating about Kamoshida. He decided to remain silent as Ryuji began his not-so-subtle questioning.

"Mishima be real here," Ryuji urged. "Dude, we saw you get spiked in the face. In fact, everyone did!"

Mishima, Akira thought. He committed the name to memory and observed as the young man stuttered a poorly fabricated lie.

"What's going on here?"

The words echoed in Akira's mind, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from jumping forcefully. It wasn't the shadow of Kamoshida, with his hordes of monsters, but the real one walking toward them, if that was any better.

"Mishima, isn't it time for practice?"

Mishima's head lowered, refusing to meet the gym teacher's eyes. "I'm n-not feeling well today."

Kamoshida sighed, shaking his head. "You'll never be at the top with excuses." He turned his gaze to Akira and Ryuji. A slight smirk formed on his face before he stilled his expression. "And what have you two been doing all day?"

Kamoshida took a step, standing directly in front of Ryuji; the blond youth held his ground.

"Oh, y'know," said Ryuji, "just talking to my pal Mishima here. Don't see why you care, or it's any of your business."

This time Kamoshida did allow himself to smile. "Really now? Because from what I've been hearing from my students, you're talking about abuse this and abuse that."

"Maybe your students are too bruised up from practice to hear straight anymore," Ryuji quietly remarked.

The massive tension surrounding the two reminded Akira of when he'd almost drowned, swimming too far in the ocean. Instinctually, his hand raised, but he didn't know if it was to touch his face as if to summon his persona or backup Ryuji if a brawl began. Thankfully, an interruption from Mishima prevented the worst-case scenario from happening.

"Sir, I am just not at my best today. I'll…be better tomorrow."

A few seconds passed until Kamoshida stepped back. "…You'll never fix that crappy serve if you don't take it seriously, Mishima." Having said his piece, the teacher turned around but not before fixing Akira and Ryuji with a pointed glare. "Any more trouble from you, and you'll be gone from this school for sure. And you too, transfer student."

"Asshole," Ryuji murmured once Kamoshida was out of sight.

"So, you see," said Mishima, "proving that he's abusing…us is…meaningless. Everyone knows, and they do nothing. My parents…they even know."

Akira's hands tightened into a fist, but Ryuji voiced their similar thoughts on the matter. "You've got to be shittin' me."

"Well, I'm not. So just stop. You aren't going to make a difference. In fact, shouldn't you, of all people, know that it's meaningless? That nothing's going to help!" The young man turned, stalking out of the building. The twosome watched his departure in silence, a grave atmosphere over them.

"Well, shit," said Ryuji.

"What do you want to do now?" Akira asked.

"I'm not giving up if that's what you're askin'…." Ryuji shook his head as if to shake gloomy thoughts away. "Hey, I'm going to try talking to those guys again. Don't wait up!" And with that, the blond youth sped off toward the practice building.

Akira sighed. If he wanted to, he could attempt another go at investigating Kamoshida. But he didn't want to. Sore from yesterday's paranormal activities and dejected from the mummers of his supposed crime, Akira just wanted to return to the small coffee shop and the dainty attic to sleep. Perhaps he could finally clear the attic of the filth and the cluster of boxes lying around.

With those thoughts in mind, Akira turned in the direction of the boy's locker room, intent on changing and returning home, until coming in contact with short, polite, and fluffy: Haru – something-last-name.

"Hello, Kurusu-Kun. I'm looking forward to afterschool for the mentorship."

Well, shit, Akira thought. To his Senpai, he said, "Yeah, so am I."

X

They met after school. The upperclassmen had sent Akira a lengthy text message, arranging their meeting in the school library, pointing out the library's location and some topics for their get-together. All in all, the first text between them was five pages long.

Akira sent a quick OK in reply, then hurried on along. The school library was unimpressive when in comparison to his old school. So much for city schools being better than the countryside, thought the raven-haired youth. His mentor sat near the back of the library in a roundtable. On the table were books of various colors and sizes neatly arranged.

Akira walked over. He was thankful for the lack of students; fewer people meant less annoying talk about his record. Upon reaching the table, Akira murmured, "Hey."

His upperclassmen jumped, blinked a few times, then smiled brightly at him. Taking a seat across from the girl, Akira gulped, somewhat uncomfortable with how happy to see him the girl appeared. So far, only Ryuji had been remotely kind to him, but that was because they were similar. They shared the common goal of ruining the school's abusive volleyball coach. So then, why did this girl – his mentor – demonstrate kindness? What was she trying to gain?

"Thank you for coming, Kurusu-Kun," said the girl.

"No problem. Couldn't be late twice now, Senpai."

She gave him a pointed look. It wasn't precisely anger or malice but disappointment like she was preparing to chastise a child. Akira immediately realized his mistake.

"Haru…" he quickly corrected.

Her expression instantly brightened. "OK, so let's begin." She gestured at the stake of books. "This might be unnecessary, but I thought we could do a read-along."

"A…read along?"

"Oh, yes, well, my head maid and I used –"

Akira couldn't help it: he needed clarification. "You have a maid?"

"Ah, umm…yes." Suddenly Haru's enthusiasm dampened, and she looked away in silence, her body language expressing unease.

Not understanding the sudden change in her demeanor, Akira pointed at the books. "So, this read along. Um, it sounds almost like reading to someone before bed."

Haru blushed at the implication. "No! We haven't done bedtime stories for a very long time now."

Realizing she shared an embarrassing tale, Haru's blush – if possible – became a vibrant red, reminding Akira of the garments his persona wore. It took all of his willpower to not broke down in laughter. Still, his lips curved into a smirk.

That's surprisingly cute, he thought. To Haru, he said, "I'm glad reading to each other before bed is out. I don't think my probation allows me to stay anywhere else without my guardian's permission."

Haru nodded, frozen by her embarrassment. Akira continued: "So explain this read-along then."

The upperclassmen looked up hesitantly; her face was still bright red. "W-well, I propose we find a book that interests us both. Then, we will read together, or separate, and talk about our perceptions of the material."

"Sort of like a book club."

"In a way. There are many clubs here, Shujin but nothing like a book or literature club. Most of the school's funding goes to sports teams like volleyball."

Akira's jaw tensed at the mention of the volleyball team. He quietly sighed, hoping to relieve some of his tension, and asked, "Why a book reading?"

Haru explained: "Oh, well, it's too early to focus on your coursework since the school year began. Once classes are underway, we can discuss homework and exams. I've never tutored someone before, but don't worry. I'm sure we can arrange something that works."

Akira nodded, feeling the negative thoughts swirling in his head diminish as he listened to Haru speak. Like Ryuji, she managed to pull him out of his pessimism (which was not a simple feat nowadays). Maybe it was because Ryuji didn't look at him with accusatory eyes like he was a villain. Ryuji looked at Akira like a companion, a kindred spirit of sorts. Haru looked at him kindly too, but the question plaguing his mind was, why? Why? Why? Why?

While everyone else was convinced of his status as a criminal and treated him accordingly, why did she not accuse him, stare at him, or dismiss him?

Curiosity is damned, though, thought Akira. He was too exhausted, mentally and physically, to pursue the matter. Akira tuned in to Haru talking.

"…if you aren't interested in any clubs, the student council would also be another good choice. Remember, in my text (Akira had not read past the second page), getting involved can show others you are serious about behaving."

She looked at him to gauge his opinion, only to see him weary, tired, and gloomy. "Is something bothering you?"

"No, it's –"

"Is it because…your record was leaked?"

An exhausted sigh escaped Akira's lips without his awareness. "Yeah…"

"Has…anyone tried to harm you like yesterday?"

Akira shook his head. "No, it's not that…."

Haru stared at the weary-eyed young man intensely, her brown eyes attempting to find a hidden clue into the workings of his mind. Finding nothing behind his expressionless façade, she said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

This time it was Akira who scrutinized the auburn-haired girl. "Not really," he murmured after a while.

Akira expected her to give up at this point; he knew he wasn't very cooperative. What he didn't expect was what Haru did next.

"Wait here," she instructed. The petite young woman quickly returned the stack of books on the table onto the shelves where they belonged. She moved at an efficient and feverish pace. Finished with her task, she looped the strap from her school bag over her shoulder.

"I'd like to show you something," said Haru, smiling. "I think it's something you'd like."

Akira just stared at her, not understanding her intentions.

"Come on!" she urged. "I promise that it's something you'll like."

Despite himself, the raven-haired youth stood and collected his belongings. It must be Haru's childish disposition, Akira thought. That was why he was stifling a smile in her presence. He followed Haru out of the library quietly to the staircase.

She walked up the staircase to the roof, where a badly-maintained door blocked their passage. A sign stating Access Not Allowed covered the small square window of the door. To Akira's surprise, Haru completely ignored the warning and reached into her school bag for a set of keys. She attempted to slide the key into the keyhole, but the door opened with the slightest touch.

"That's strange. This door should always be locked," Haru murmured. Haru shrugged, then turned to Akira with a smile, her eyes bright with excitement. She pushed open the door and stepped forward; Akira followed behind her, blinking a few times until his eyes adjusted to the sunlight.

"Welcome," said Haru, "to the Gardening Club!"

"The…Gardening Club?"

Akira turned around, rotating his torso, to take in the surrounding area. The school's rooftop was barren, flanked on all sides by a tall fence. A giant machine was positioned behind a cluster of haphazardly arranged desks, and – Akira blinked – on top of a few of the tables, furthest from the others, were pots filled with thriving plants. Near those potted plants, on the ground, were two rectangular squares shaped by planks with soil and the beginnings of life about to flourish. Somehow, since coming to this hectic city, the small garden before Akira was the coolest thing he had seen.

"The Gardening Club isn't an official club per se," said Haru as she pulled on a loose strand of her curly hair, a nervous habit perhaps. "I'm the only member, and all the funding comes from my allowance. I think that's why the teachers don't care if I use this space at all. I'd like to think that I'm making school a livelier place."

Haru giggled to herself. It was a beautiful thing, Akira decided.

"Anyways," Haru said, turning to the garden. "Tending to plants and cultivating them is hard work. You need to be proficient and good with your hands to get it just right so the plants grow. Do you have any experience with plants?"

Akira rubbed the back of his head. "There's a potted plant where I stay. I plan to take care of it once I settle in my new place."

"I see. If you need any advice, please don't hesitate to contact me." She turned to him again. "I brought you here because when I'm feeling sad or overwhelmed, I come here. Taking care of something and working hard almost makes all the stress disappear. I-I hope bringing you here helps you if only a little."

"It does," Akira said softly. Somehow the tension he previously felt had all but melted away. Without much thought, he removed his glasses to squint at the sky. "Say," he began, "you mentioned that being involved in a club would be helpful for me, right?"

He looked at Haru, and, unknown to him, the girl was immobilized by the sharpness of his gaze.

"Y-yes," she managed.

"Then," Akira said, "I'd like to join."

The smile she gave him was the brightest one the entire day. And then Akira felt it. Once again, the buzzing that began in his chest soon blossomed throughout his body. The same sing-song voice proclaimed Empress Arcana's creation, the means of escaping captivity, and the wings of rebellion. Absolute bliss washed over him as he felt his soul moisturized like the plants under Haru's care.