Chapter 39

Minato stared, mouth agape and eyes wide at the set of clothes and items before him, too surprised to hold onto his stoic façade from where he stood in the dorm's Control Room. (Even though he'd started to warm up to S.E.E.S., he still didn't want to fully let loose in front of them, lest he somehow jeopardize the future or - worse - embarrass himself.) But despite that, he couldn't shut his jaw, or tear his eyes away from the array before him.

"I take it you're satisfied, Arisato?" Mitsuru said, standing next to him in the Control Room with just a dash of smugness in her voice.

"This…" Minato said. "This went way farther than I expected."

"Well, you did have many good points in your 'Combat Tips for the Dark Hour' briefing." Mitsuru smiled, hands clasped behind her back and legs shoulder width apart, like she was standing at attention. "But after discussing it with my father, we decided that we could use the Kirijo Group's resources to bring your ideas to their logical conclusion."

Said conclusion was, apparently, cranking every idea up to eleven out of ten, and stuffing it full of Kirijo cash.

Minato's original ideas about body armor? Forget them. He was looking at some serious special-agent, black-ops, super-soldier gear - including even a suit styled for a dog. The suits were all black, reinforced with kevlar, and it looked like the center and back of each suit was specifically reinforced to be bulletproof (something which Minato was unbelievably thankful for, holy shit). The suits were also designed with several buckles covering each suit in several places, allowing for a high degree of customization as each strap could be fitted with a different pouch, weapon slot, etc. Minato saw that, within some of the pouches, there were a multitude of healing items: high-value Medical Powder, mana recovery, status-effect-recovery items, etc. For the weapons, there were straps designed to hold a smaller, one-handed sword like Minato himself favored, but he also noted one clearly designed for an enormous broadsword, a naginata, and other weapon types.

(Only later would he notice one such strap holding a bow and a quiver of arrows, off to the side of the room, not included with the other items but still clearly part of the whole set.)

Next to each set of armor was a black helmet, only covering the top of the head, but with a small, tinted visor able to be flipped up or down as needed. There was also a small, black box on the back of each helmet.

"That is a battery pack for a GPS receiver and a communicator for your phones," Mitsusu explained when she saw him looking at it. "GPS shall only work during normal hours, of course, but the communicator may link with your normal phone or your Dark Hour phone, so you can use it during the Dark Hour if you must."

Minato nodded as he moved his eyes over the various gear and items once more. Everything that he had suggested was there… plus extras, of course. The Kirijo Group only did a top notch job, especially where Kirijo Mitsuru was involved.

"Do you have any questions, Arisato?" Mitsuru asked, expression still toeing the line between polite smile and smirk.

"How did you get them done so fast? It's only been a week."

That got a brief frown from Mitsuru. She looked at him curiously. "Exactly, it has been a week. And - unlike the situation with my motorcycle - we had most of the parts already on standby for the suits. It was quite an easy feat."

Minato shook his head, not making any noise, but eyes not leaving the black kevlar of the suits. Even if they had most of the parts on-hand… customized suits, designed with specialized resources, all sorted and ready to go on such a limited timeframe? And a specialized collection of rare and odd items?

Kirijo Group, you are scary.

Interpreting his silence as 'No, no more questions for now, Kirijo-Senpai' (and being correct), Mitsuru spoke up again, continuing to gaze at the objects before them. "It seems that you are still processing this. Feel free to ask me any questions whenever." She paused. "I am still accepting new suggestions, too. From you, of course, but also from the others. We have been far too static in our Dark Hour preparations, and I would be intrigued to see what ingenuity we can get from the group."

Finally wrangling his emotions into some semblance of control, Minato nodded. "Good idea, Senpai."

Mitsuru hummed, seemingly content to bask in the radiance of the suit designs. (Minato didn't blame her.) After a moment, she turned back to her companion. "I apologize, Arisato. I believe you came in here for another reason, yes?"

Minato nodded again. "Yes, Senpai. I was wondering: what was your plan for Fuuka-chan's S.E.E.S. training?"

"I see." Mitsuru quirked a small smile at him. "Perhaps you mean, have I started to train Yamagishi in the use of an evoker?"

Minato resisted the urge to clear his throat or otherwise look abashed. "...That'd be part of the question."

"Of course," Mitsuru said. Minato ignored the all-too-knowing tone. "In short, we will do it when she is ready, Arisato. I have told her to let us know when she feels prepared - and when that time comes, we will add her strength to our own."

Satisfied, Minato remained silent, hesitating for a few moments longer as he tried to think of any other questions. A few seconds later, Mitsuru looked over to him and smiled. "I'm glad you approve of the choice, Arisato. Though I am not surprised, given how close you and Yamagishi seem to be."

At Mitsuru's comment, Minato's mind reeled. Because he hadn't nodded, or hummed, or given any other direct sign of affirmation, and he had thought that his expression had been totally blank… but there was Mitsuru, correctly guessing his exact thoughts after just a few moments.

Somewhere deep in his soul, Minato had a sinking feeling that this was the beginning of the end of 'Minato, master of emotional disguise.' He had known for a while that anyone who really knew him could easily figure out his emotions or intentions, but he had suspected it would take a little longer before it actually happened for the people in this dimension.

...Though, in hindsight, perhaps he should have seen this coming a long time ago. How long ago had Rio told him that he was 'easy to talk to?'

In the midst of Minato's mental ramblings, Mitsuru spoke. "Although I am glad that you approve, I do wish to clarify why I made this choice. I believe that S.E.E.S.' operations are necessary and vital to the safety of the overall populace of Port Island and Iwatodai. I would not ask for anyone's participation in these dangerous activities otherwise." As she spoke, Mitsuru's voice strengthened. "However, I must admit - Arisato, I am more than happy with our current strength. Every person on the team already brings a certain skill set which, all together, makes us immensely powerful. That is why I do not necessarily want more Persona users to join S.E.E.S. to increase our strength - I want Persona users to join S.E.E.S. so they can stay safe."

Minato's chest filled with warmth. Field leaders may change and S.E.E.S. roles and responsibilities will fluctuate, but there was a reason that Kirijo Mitsuru remained the overall leader of S.E.E.S. For Minato, this was the reason why he followed her first.

"Got it," he said. "I'll be extra sure to direct any new Persona users your way."

Mitsuru chuckled, with an odd smile on her face. "Please do. You seem to have a knack for… finding them."

Narrowing his eyes for a brief moment, Minato nodded. (Mitsuru's odd smile remained unchanged.) Then, after a beat, he lowered his emotional barrier - just by a hair. "...Thanks. For the gear."

Mitsuru blinked, then widened her smile, turning her head slightly away from Minato. "You are welcome. Frankly, Arisato, we should have done this much sooner. You were - are - right to request it. My father was hesitant at first, since it was odd for the Kirijo Group to create… ah, adolescent-sized combat gear. But our safety comes first - I am sure that I can handle the rest."

Again, Minato dipped his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Mitsuru's cell phone rang, its noise shrill in the enclosed space. Mitsuru picked it up and checked the front-facing screen. Her eyebrows immediately raised up, and the smile on her face grew softer.

"Arisato, could you excuse me? I must take this - it is my father." She chuckled. "Ironic, given the conversation and his recent assistance, but I have not talked to him directly in a few days. I would love to talk to him with some privacy."

"Sure." Taking one last look at the neatly lined suits, Minato took his exit, tossing one last "Thanks again, Senpai," over his shoulder before he left.

As the door shut behind Minato, Mitsuru hit the accept call button and raised the phone to her ear.

"Father, it is wonderful to hear from you." Mitsuru's expression was still warm as she spoke. "How are you?"

"How're we? How're you doing, hot shot!" came the reply - though thankfully, not from Mitsuru's father. (The day that Kirijo Takeharu called Mitsuru "hot shot," she would abdicate S.E.E.S. and give command to Koromaru.) But it was a voice she recognized.

"Shoji?" Mitsuru asked, confusion fading the smile from her face. (She then had to hide a wince as she realized she had called him by his given name, too baffled for the moment to follow proper procedure.)

"Mitsuru. Hello, love," came a new voice. This one was about as deep in tenor as Shoji's, but unlike the doctor's gravelly voice, this person's words were as smooth and rich as wine. This was Kirijo Takeharu - Mitsuru's father. "The old-timer and I are both here."

"'Old-timer,' he says. Have ya looked in a mirror lately, Takeharu?"

"Shoji, I am still your boss. You could have a little respect."

"Oh, so you can call me old-timer, but I can't diss ya back? Rude, Takeharu. I am far too old for that kind of nonsense."

"...You literally just said-"

"Father, Sho… Hashino-san," Mitsuru broke in, her brows now furrowed and a frown casting lines across her face. "I am happy you both called, truly, but this is rather unusual. I must ask: why are you calling?"

"Well, ain't that just the thing, Mitsu-chan," Shoji said, glee ringing in his voice. "We just wanted to confirm something that you might've been up to recently…"

"Shoji, stop teasing her when she does not even understand why. You and I both know that there is no way she has done anything of the sort." While Shoji sounded like he had been given a free all-you-can-tease-Kirijo ticket (one which he appeared to be cashing in), Takeharu just sounded exasperated.

"What are you both talking about?" Mitsuru said, trying not to lose her temper at the two men arguing on the other side of the phone. (Please, she told herself, beating back her mounting annoyance, don't snap at your own father, for god's sake!)

"...I cannot believe I am about to ask this… but, Mitsuru, have you ever gone near Shirakawa Boulevard, for any reason?"

"Shirakawa Boulevard?" Mitsuru frowned. "I do not think so. I have not heard much of that place, Father. I believe it is a… hotel, of some sort?"

"It is- Shoji, be quiet - it is a hotel. But not the sort of hotel that you or anyone your age should frequent."

"It's a hotel for sex, Mitsu-chan!"

Mitsuru's face flushed. Her hand tightened on the phone as she attempted (and succeeded, thankfully) to not squeak in surprise.

"Shoji!" Came the sharp crack of Takeharu's reprimand.

"...Hashino-san," Mitsuru started slowly, face still bright red, but her tone like a tiger crouched before unsuspecting prey. "If you are ever that crass with me again, so help me, I will find a way to execute you."

It was unclear if it was the sudden, impending threat on his life, or the knowledge that he had crossed a line that made Shoji finally back off, but he did indeed apologize and settle down.

"That is absolutely your last drink, Shoji. Good god." Takeharu's voice was muffled at that comment, and Mitsuru found herself somewhat nonplussed at the realization that her father and Shoji were apparently drinking together.

...But also, that did explain some things about this conversation.

"Mitsuru, I am very sorry for this," Takeharu said. "Normally, I would have called you tomorrow, but it was urgent enough that I wanted to call you now."

"Urgent? How so? I do not understand how this… hotel… is urgent at all."

"Mitsuru, during your missions, did you ever lose your motorcycle helmet?"

Mitsuru had begun walking towards an armchair in the room, feeling the need to sit from the madness of the conversation, but at her father's question she stopped. "My… helmet?"

"Yes. I have a vague recollection of you requesting a new helmet for your motorcycle a month or two ago. Was that because you lost it on a mission for S.E.E.S.?"

"I... yes. Yes, I did." It took a moment to brush the dust of time from her memories, but once she did, she could remember: it was on the evening of the full moon fight involving the train. The same night she had flown on her motorcycle to make it to the train operator's station to change the tracks of the train so it wouldn't crash and kill all her teammates inside.

She remembered that night - distinctly, now. Her jaw clenched as she recalled more and more details. However, until this moment, she had forgotten that in the midst of her flight to the station, she had flung her helmet off.

"It was in a back-alley of Iwatodai, during the Dark Hour," she said, slowly. "I took it off while riding my motorcycle to improve my visibility during one of our… larger-scale Dark Hour operations."

"...I see." Takeharu's voice was suddenly tired, more than anything else. "Unfortunately, it appears that someone has found it, and realized its owner."

Takeharu continued talking, and as he did, dots began to connect in Mitsuru's mind, painting a picture that she saw in all-too-vivid detail.

"The helmet was found near a dumpster in the back of this hotel - Shirakawa Boulevard. It was only within the last few days that someone found it, and - while that fact brings up serious concerns about the establishment's trash-collecting schedule - the important point is that someone recognized it, and eventually reported it."

"When you say, 'reported it…'"

"To the media. They are certainly creating some interesting implications out of it."

"...Implications?"

"Whenever you feel you are ready, I would turn on the television."

Mitsuru immediately grabbed the remote and turned on the TV in one of the room's several monitors, flipping to one of the local news channels. As the sound faded in, Mitsuru caught the latter half of a news report, showing an eagle-eyed, raven-haired reporter speaking directly to the camera.

"...ijo Group has not yet been reached for comment. But we have evidence suggesting that the young heiress to the Kirijo Group, Kirijo Mitsuru, was here at Shirakawa Boulevard, the famous love hotel at the center of Iwatodai's nightlife. We do not yet know the full details, and I personally would find it shocking if such a young lady was indeed taking advantage of the facilities here. But facts are facts, and it appears the Kirijo Group, and Kirijo Mitsuru herself, have some explanations to make. For News Channel 8, this is Iwa-"

Mitsuru changed the channel with a hard press of a button. Now, a man in a suit grinned at the camera, seated behind a wide, wooden table, and clearly having the time of his life.

"...ell folks, it seems that Miss Perfect may have a few skeletons in her closet! Not sure about you all, but I can't think of many other reasons why Kirijo Mitsuru would leave her helmet behind a love hotel unless she was trying to get outta there fast, right? I mean I can't blame her, with all the stress and responsibilities of being the heiress to the Kirijo Group, who wouldn't want to relax and live a little? Plus, the motto of the Kirijo Group is, 'Two in Harmony Surpasses One in Perfection,' so maybe she's just taking that a bit too litera-"

The television switched off. Mitsuru's finger stayed firmly clamped down on the remote's power button.

"...I do not want you to worry too much, Mitsuru," Takeharu said. "But I did want to inform you of this because the media will be watching you very closely over the coming days. We can handle the media in general - what they are suggesting is absolutely ridiculous, and people know that. But for your own sake and, secondarily, the company's, I must request that you stay away from Shirakawa Boulevard for the time being."

Counting to ten in her head, Mitsuru quietly let out a slow exhale, ignoring her tense, nearly shaking hand clasped around her phone. "I understand, Father. That should not be an issue."

"Very well. Then, I apologize for interrupting your night - and I apologize for your doctor's absurd behavior. It seems I must take him home now, but I hope you are doing well."

"You as well, Father."

Mitsuru, still stunned, didn't hang up, responding mostly on instinct. But in the intervening silence, Takeharu spoke up again.

"…Mitsuru?"

Mitsuru had to take a breath before responding. "Yes?"

"Have you had the opportunity to look further into the situation we discussed the other night?"

Trying to break her thoughts free of the new situation she found herself in was nigh impossible, but Mitsuru managed to tear her focus back to her father's question - back to an enlightening conversation she had several days prior. She distractedly looked down at a closed journal on her desk, the one outlining various details on her topic of research. A few pages of neatly folded loose-leaf paper stuck out of one end, too long to be fully enveloped by the journal's cover.

"…Ah. Yes, I have researched it, though I have not confirmed anything with him yet," Mitsuru said, her mind still all too eager to focus on the new situation.

"I see," replied Takeharu. "Please keep me updated as to your findings."

"...I will."

Takeharu paused again, as if about to speak, but then he hung up. And so, Mitsuru was left alone in the room, holding her phone in one hand and the television remote in the other. Her heart was racing, and her face was flushed, but for an entirely different reason than before.

A media storm. This was not her first time dealing with one, but it was the first time one was centered solely around herself. And an assumption that she… that she-

The previous glory from revealing the new suits to Minato was gone. The cold ice running through her veins erased the earlier feeling without a trace.

God, this was such a foreign situation. How was one supposed to deal with it? How could you deal with the whole world thinking that you…

She shut her mind down as best as she could. This was important, but she would have to deal with it later. There were just a few scant nights left until the evening of the full moon, and while her reputation was important, her comrades' lives were far more important. She had to finish her preparations - including informing the whole team about their new gear - and otherwise ensure everything was in place for the night of their next massive fight.

This whole… situation… could wait. It must wait. She would inform her team of it in brief, as well as her promise to stay away from the location, but otherwise she would focus entirely on the impending battle.

She had to.

A few nights later, Mitsuru stood surrounded by her team in the Control Room, the Dark Hour's putrid shade of green light slithering in through the window. Most members were there, with the exception of Yukari, Fuuka, and Akihiko. Those three were in the hospital, after Akihiko had been sent off (somewhat begrudgingly) to guard Yukari and Fuuka. With the rising occurrences of Iwatodai Shadow activity leading up to the full moon, S.E.E.S. had decided to not leave things up to chance in the event of a surprise attack on their injured teammates. Akihiko, as someone with a lot of fighting experience and who didn't need to sneak a weapon into the hospital, was chosen for the job.

Meanwhile, Hamuko was once again acting as operational leader - a rather simple choice given her improvement over the past several days. Despite this improvement, though, Mitsuru had told Minato to keep an eye out for the team during the mission. While Hamuko was well enough to be operational leader, Mitsuru felt more comfortable knowing that there was a secondary leader in the wings should anything happen.

All other members were fully suited in their brand new combat gear (even days later, Junpei was still admiring how well it fit him), with the visors of their helmets raised up and clearly showing their faces. She knew that outside the walls of the command center, the full moon had risen like a haunting spirit, imposing and unwanted. On the monitor before them, a location was indicated with a glowing circle on a map - displaying the area where a large Shadow reading had originated, and the most likely place where the full moon Shadow was located.

As she stared at the screen, Mitsuru could only barely hold her composure. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked at the display, her stomach falling to her feet. Because of course this would happen. This was the natural conclusion of the past few days. Of all the places in Iwatodai, every single possible location that a Shadow could be, there was only one reasonable place for the universe to place it tonight.

Opening her mouth, Mitsuru tried to keep her voice steady as she said:

"...There is a large Shadow reading coming from Shirakawa Boulevard."

Shout outs to:

Whaymustibenamed, Santiago1235, BlueSynth, Epic Zealot Productions 2 [point] 0, Reaper4425, and MorgantheGrandmaster for fav'ing;

Whaymustibenamed, Santiago1235, and MorgantheGrandmaster for fav'ing;

0lcra, Da Etan, and blarg7865 for reviewing;

and my phenomenal beta Disasternoj for editing!

Thanks as always for reading, and see you in the next update!

[Next chapter drops on July 23, 2024!]