So just because I don't really like the fanon names, the female protagonist in this fanfiction will be called Tachibana Mizuki.

Disclaimer: Persona 3, Persona 3 Portable, their characters and terms (c) Atlus

01 - The Letters

Her room was empty now, stripped bare of everything she had ever personalized it with. No textbooks lined neatly on the desk. No brightly coloured bedsheets or gratuitously filled calender or cute fuzzy plush toys. No pictures of her many friends smiling from their frames on her desk, her vanity mirror, her nightstand, her TV, her walls. No naginata leaning against the wall behind her door, ready to be picked up on moment's notice.

No seventeen-year-old girl to claim it all, or greet them with a smile. That stupid, naive, unassuming, oblivious, cheerful, friendly, beautiful smile that could light up the universe. That could change hearts.

He had no reason to be here. No right to be here. No one did, and most especially not him. But his best friend had (quite effectively) struck him with the one thing that hurt more than the boxer's uppercut to the chin: guilt.

"If there was anyone she'd want to have something of hers, it'd be you."

So here he was, standing in her room and feeling like a complete fool. There couldn't possibly be something in here that she hadn't already given him: the leather watch that he'd given her, now wrapped around his own wrist since that bastard Takaya had basically totaled the old pocket watch he used to use - the pocket watch that she had apparently gone through hell and back to return to him. And her Mp3 player, that constant on her person like Iori's hat and Aki's plaster had been on them. That contraption stayed buried in the depths of his coat pocket, never forgotten but never used or shown.

To be honest, he didn't try really looking through the stuff that was left behind. He'd briefly shuffled through it to avoid lingering on the memories that surfaced with each item: a cluster of those barrettes she always wore, a couple ticket stubs, some make-up, a shopping list, recipes cut out from magazines. Nothing that was substantially Mizuki.

With a snort he turned to leave, but then noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Why hadn't he noticed it before? Because he'd been preoccupied. Striding over, he crouched down and - after a bit of work and cursing on his part - managed to free up a manila envelope. One eyebrow disappeared into his beanie. What the hell was this? What was it doing under her nightstand? Had she dropped it when she'd still been in this room? Hidden it? Or had someone else dropped it and accidentally kicked it underneath the furniture while cleaning up?

Shinjirou stared at the envelope a little longer, then tucked it into his coat.

The flat package stayed in his room until April first, while unpacking his luggage in his room in the pad that he and Akihiko now shared. He'd forgotten all about it; not surprising, given all that had happened. But now that he had time, he could delve into the mysteries of the strange object. Come to think of it, why had he taken it? All of Mizuki's belongings that hadn't been taken as keepsakes by the others or thrown out had all been shipped out to charity - an incredible hard decision for Mitsuru to make, as the two girls had been on rather good terms.

So why this particular envelope? It was plain, unmarked, and very unremarkable. Nothing about it seemed to stand out. Yet he had felt the need to keep it. Might as well see what's inside then. It's not like she could stop him now. Untying the string, Shinjirou was presented with a clutter of smaller envelopes and a letter. He recognized her neat writing immediately.

To the finder of this envelope:

Enclosed is a number of letters written in the month of February 2010. You probably will not know who I am beyond the former resident of this room and the author of these letters, but I ask that you would find the people - my dear friends - these letters are addressed to and give them the letters in my stead.

I thank you kindly in advance,
Tachibana Mizuki

Shinijrou was quiet as he read and re-read the message, his lips pursed to keep a neutral face. Her words had made it very clear that the envelope was meant to be found, and that Mizuki had both retained her memory and known her fate from the start. It coincided with the things they'd seen in the Abyss of Time, yet it didn't lessen the ache one bit. Upending the larger package, the man shifted through the collection of envelopes. Heck, she'd even gone and written one for Koromaru. You really are a piece of work. Weird moron.

With a grunt, he got up from his bed tucked all of the letters into his coat save for the ones marked with his and Aki's names. Well, he was the one who found it, and it was her last wish; who was he to deny the one he loved that desire?