DISCLAIMER: ATLUS owns the whole Persona series. I do not.

Yakushima.

It was a private island owned by the Kirijo Group, and on paper was the location of a vacation home for the current head Takeharu Kirijo and his family. The coverage of the whole island, with a mansion, forest, and large beach, was practically part of its property.

Needless to say, secrets run deep into the Kirijo—and so it does as well within the island of Yakushima. 700 meters below the Kirijo Manor built into the heart of the island was a subterranean facility dedicated to Shadow research, ASW development, weapons manufacturing, and the study on Personas.

As revolutionary as the ASW technology was, however, the number of androids they had were only limited to a hundred models. A reason for this was the rarity of the material they had used in order to sustain the vitality and individual development of the ASWs:

Plumes of Dusks.

The scientists had only been able to gather these materials off of some very rare Shadows that they had captured during the early days of the study about the mysterious creatures existing outside of pure imagination. What surprised them was the fact that the Plumes were constantly attracted to one another and could grow through the consumption of another Plume. This was the fuel for their idea of pitting the ASWs against one another, in order for those which would be left to gain tremendous development through the absorption of multiple Plumes from the ones they would eliminate through battle.

As such, the number of ASWs had thoroughly declined, numbering to about 70. Out of that number, fewer still were left for actual combat—the rest had become very unstable after their Plumes grew into huge ones for reasons unknown to the Kirijo researchers.

Shuji Ikutsuki marveled at the multiple ASW units lined up in front of him like infantrymen being surveyed before a battle. His expression was like that of a child eagerly staring at all the luscious treats present in a candy store; unable to contain hunger for just one type of treat.

The ASWs were of various colors and designs—befitting of the way they had individually unique Plumes for their cores. The weapons of each unit also differed from the other, thus enabling the creation of battle strategies for large-scale battles.

Ikutsuki reveled in the fact that they had been able to capture Yakushima so easily; all thanks to the fact that majority of the people in were still Nyxists at heart and still loyal to the Kirijo Head who preceded Takeharu Kirijo. In a matter of a day, they had captured and locked away all the non-Nyxist employees and infiltrated Yakushima all without a hitch.

"Aaaaah~! This is bliss! Mother Nyx continues to watch over us as we work on bringing her blessing unto this pathetic rock we live on!" the madman smiled, tearing up at his own words. Calming himself for a bit, he then called over a nearby guard. "How goes the management up above?"

"It's all according to plan, Priest Ikutsuki. Regular reports are made under the clear guise of the usual management, and we have the Group eating off of the palm of our hands. They don't even think that anything seems to be wrong."

Ikutsuki simply could not hold back his glee. "Wonderful! Excellent job! I am sure Mother Nyx rejoices at our current progress. Carry on with your duties then. Hail Nyx!"

The guard smiled full, tears welling in his eyes. "I-I am most honored, sir! To be of service to Mother Nyx, that is! Hail Nyx!"

Ikutsuki then prompted him to go back attend to his current task, further speaking of the blessings their patron would be bestowing upon them. He was confident that he was not lying—Mother Nyx is the one who shall grant them the ultimate happiness available to any human being at the moment.

"In three full moons . . . yes, that will be enough. Three months, and we shall begin the ascent towards Paradise!"

". . . "

". . ."

". . ."

The atmosphere was tense.

No, Mitsuru Kirijo believed that assumption to be the understatement of the year. She could sense that it was more than that, but being someone unfamiliar with dealing with emotions as she was always by herself, she could find any sort of remedy to the situation. She and the brunette next to her, Yukari Takeba, who was the daughter of one of his father's most trusted employees, found themselves come over with futility over how they were to comfort the black-haired boy they had been tasked with to watch over.

It had been a few days ago, when she was introduced by her father to Yukari, and what surprised the redhead was that friendship came faster between the two. It was strange for such an acquaintanceship to have hit it off so well so early; in a hospital, no less.

Their fathers were both concerned with an individual they rushed over to Tatsumi Memorial Hospital. Mitsuru and Yukari were perplexed with the situation, and all that Eiichiro had answered them with when they both queried were but one of no help—and it further added mystery to what was even happening.

Once he was stable and settled into an individual room, Yukari and Mitsuru had taken the chance to also enter together with their fathers. Both girls were left wondering in thought as they stared at the comatose lad in who had lay in front of them; bedridden and showing no signs of waking even if he was still living.

Unkempt black, locks that looked like sinister tendrils and a pale complexion that was short of someone who had just died—the boy looked as if he had just died. At least, that was what Yukari had honestly thought. Needless to say, Mitsuru thought similarly.

"Mitsuru, if you don't mind, I'd like you to watch this young man for a while; at least, until he wakes up." That was what Takeharu Kirijo had asked of his daughter, that same day the lad had been brought in.

"I have no problems, Father. But, what is his connection to Kirijo?" Mitsuru had asked.

"That's just it, Mitsuru—" Takeharu took a pause, as he sighed, taking a short moment to place a little push in his words, which seemed like even he himself had asked the same question to himself and answered back.

"—we really don't know."

A few days had passed, and it was already a routine for Mitsuru and Yukari to go to the hospital and keep watch of the lad. They'd chat about the simplest of matters, and Yukari would often chuckle when she'd find out just how sheltered Mitsuru was, which would fluster the redhead to no end. A simple friendship, nonetheless, formed between them, and it was a mutual thought between the two.

And for this day, they were surprised to have seen the lad finally up and about and shocked to see him weeping in front of the television.

Mitsuru finally took it within herself to shatter the unease in the room. "Yukari."

The brunette turned to her. "Hmm?"

"Please use the phone by the lobby. I would like you to call Father or Mr. Eiichiro, and tell them of our guest's awakening."

"O-oh, sure." Yukari had accepted the task with ease, obvious that she did not enjoy the heavy atmosphere inside the room. After the brunette had exited the room, Mitsuru cleared her throat and started a conversation with the lad.

"Mitsuru Kirijo. That's my name. What is yours?"

No reply. Perhaps she should take a different approach and talk about something else? Didn't boys like those hero shows she would often hear abou—

". . . Minato. Arisato."

A quaint, broken voice met Mitsuru's ears. His downcast eyes now looked at her, and she felt like it bore through her soul. His lips curved into a small, sad smile, probably a forced attempt at courtesy.

"Un. I see. Then, Arisato, how old are you?" Worst. Line of questioning. Ever. Mitsuru palmed herself internally. Goodness gracious, she wasn't good at these kinds of things that lacked formality.

". . . Seven, eight? I don't know anymore. Sorry."

It pained her. He was forcing a façade of courtesy to maintain a conversation with her as she stumbled on a way to somehow ease the mood, yet all that she saw in his eyes were emptiness—eyes completely void of any kind of warmth or passion. It housed nothing else apart from any similar negative feeling.

She hated these kinds of situations—times where logic cannot come into play and reason crumbles in front of emotions. Mitsuru was no expert with dealing with people other than for business, formalities, or the likes, and so she was annoyed at the idea of not being able to comfort Arisato.

"N-no, I should apologize. You had just woken up, and to see what was on the news just like that . . ." she trailed off.

". . . Ms. Kirijo?"

Mitsuru jumped a little at the call. "What is it? Oh, and you can drop the formality. Mitsuru will suffice."

The lad nodded. "If that's the case, then call me by my first name as well. Then, Mitsuru; can you take me to the hospital roof? Just for a bit, if it's fine with you."

The redhead simply blinked at him, but acceded to the request, nonetheless.

"Is that so? I see. We'll be there in a flash. Thanks for everything, Yukari. Take care, alright?"

Eiichiro hung up his phone after having conversed with his daughter. Yukari had informed him just then that the enigmatic lad they had found had finally gained consciousness. It was time to check whether or not the boy had held clues as to the exact events that had transpired during the supposed splitting of Death into multiple, weaker forms so as to avoid the Fall.

Back then, the lad appeared out of nowhere and just stopped Ikutsuki then and there, then knocked me out as well.

Nothing during the time made sense to the scientist. Apart from the fact that they did not find any sort of clue as to the current whereabouts of Death, there were no clear hints as to the level of involvement of the child.

Eiichiro sighed, deciding that all the confusion would be cleared once they had conversed with the lad. He then reached for his phone and scrolled through his contacts, searching for his boss's number to inform him of the boy's awakening.

". . . It's a nice looking sunset, don't you think?"

Minato quietly commented as Mitsuru pushed his wheelchair through the open space of the rooftop. Stopping just beside of the benches, Mitsuru had sat on the side beside Minato and then chose to reply.

"It is. Although this phenomenon really isn't all that common, no?" Strike one. She knew the lad had just been building some sort of mood for them to settle into, and she'd already break it.

"I'm s-sorry! I shouldn't be saying such things . . . You have just found out about . . . well . . ."

Way to go, Kirijo, she sighed internally.

". . . If you do put it that way, then I guess so. Oh, and your apology is unneeded," the lad chuckled. There it was again—that halfhearted expression. She understood that it was just a mask to hide what was truly inside, but . . .

"Mitsuru." She turned to look at him once more. "What is it?"

"You . . . want to protect your father, right?" Mitsuru was utterly surprised that the lad had been able to discern it; that was, if it wasn't just a guess.

That was right—she'd promise that to herself for as long she could remember. For the sake of the man who had gotten to great lengths just for her, she would willingly pay the price of her life. Sure, that was far too mature for the thought process of a child such as her, but it was what she had truly believed in.

"Yes, I do. I want to be able to protect him in turn for the upbringing he has given, and for the protection that he too has provided."

Minato looked at her, still bearing the same dead eyes and the woeful curving of his lips. "It must be nice . . . to know that they continue to breathe upon this earth, knowing that you're able to do something for them . . ."

The redhead carefully chose her words as she thought of a proper reply. "I'm sure that you have done yours as well."

"I wonder about that . . ." Minato trailed off as he looked on to the sky.

Mitsuru bit her lip, finally knowing why his expression had affected her so much.

It was the same face her father had made after her mother had passed away.

To the many who worked under the Group, even when her grandfather was still the head, her father had gained a reputation of being someone who worked with great logic, efficiency, and attention to even the smallest of detail. He was calculating, uncaring of the most meager of losses that Kirijo faced in terms of its economic stature and manpower.

Unknown to them, he was just another man who had carried on a burden—one that no one else had been meaning to take, which was why he had taken it upon himself to carry it. Sure, he seemed like the capable person for the job, but there were times at home when Takeharu would breakdown and ask himself if carrying what he had was the best course of action he had done. And who else would have been there but her mother to reassure him? She would encourage him to go further not only to accomplish his goals, but to also lighten the load on his back. Yes, her mother was also someone who would willingly share Takeharu's burden and walk the path of the Kirijo.

It was a matter of imagination then of how Takeharu had mourned the passing of an important person—someone who would remember the sacrifices he did, no matter what happened.

It was the same for this lad. Right now, in Mitsuru's eyes, Minato was definitely carrying a cross; one that he did not have to, but chose to because he saw no one else able to. And now, he was broken down; excluding any other relative or acquaintances, he would have no one to remember the amount of hardships he had undergone in order to continue up the hill with the cross on his back.

There was no mother or father to light up his path, just as there was no significant other to light up Takeharu's now dark road.

"It may be presumptuous of me, but, don't you think they'd be somewhere up there, just watching over and still remembering you? Maybe your mother and father would have told you to not just rely on them, but also for you to make more bonds—more people to share your burdens with. My mother has told the same of my father back then, when she was still . . . here."

She did not know why she was telling him this. For some strange reason unfathomable to her, she was doing her best to comfort a stranger she did not even yet consider to be on a level of an acquaintance.

It was almost as if she had known him already a long time.

As she looked on to the boy, she had found him looking at her with incredulous eyes. The boy then closed his eyes, and faced up—eyes darkened over by the unkempt hair atop him. A soft breeze blew, and Mitsuru could see the tears that slowly fell down his face.

". . . Sharing my burden . . . is something impossible right now. I'm not supposed to make bonds. I have resolved myself . . . to become unremembered for the sake . . . of everything I love . . ."

". . ."

Minato lowered his head, then wiped his tears and faced Mitsuru. "I'm sorry about that. I just . . . feel unsure about myself right now."

"Unsure about what?"

". . . I don't really know, as of this moment."

Suddenly, Mitsuru stood up from her seat. "Minato. Please raise your head up and face me." The lad complied, and found himself locking eyes with the redhead.

"My father continues to stand up and march on, even if his light has long left the world. Whatever adversary he faced, he would think of mother and what she would think if she had been watching. Isn't that enough? That they at least remembered you, even if it was just some short time in their life? You'd have to continue on with your resolve, or it would have been for naught. If your mother and father were people you wanted to protect, then do so by doing one thing—living. While you live, you resolve yourself to keep carrying the cross you carry, behind you lay the memories of those who have gone on. They stay behind you because they push you towards your goal. They'd tell you to not give up on life, because the moment you do, you also forget them . . ."

Her arms limped, and she then backed away from the lad. Why was she spouting all this? And to a stranger, no less. It wasn't because he seemed to have a similar burden that her father also shows, but it was because some part of her refused this—some part of her tugged at her mind and told her that this person isn't really like this.

She was then brought out of thought by the lad. ". . . Are you sure you would want to waste such wonderful words on someone as broken as me?"

". . . I might just be. I am . . . not completely certain. It's just that . . . I felt like it was my duty to do so. And, I also wanted to comfort you . . ."

. . . because I was never even to say those words to my own father.

Out of the corner of her eye, she then saw Minato bowing to her. ". . . Thank you." Suddenly, she was disturbed by a ringing in her pocket even before she could reply to the lad's words of gratitude.

"Yes, what is it? Oh, I see. I will be bringing him shortly. Then, excuse me." Mitsuru then moved behind the wheelchair and began moving Minato towards the exit out of the rooftop.

"News of your awakening have reached my father and Mr. Eiichiro, it seems. They would like to speak with you in your hospital room. Please forgive me if we have to interrupt our . . . little exchange here on the roof."

". . . Is it fine if we stayed for five more minutes?"

"Well . . . I don't see a reason why not."

And so five more minutes passed with the redhead peacefully staring into the orange sky together with her woeful company. Looking at it now, she could see why the sunset appeared to be much more . . . bewitching than any other.

Maybe even mother watches on right now; not only watching father, but maybe me as well . . .

Before they had completely left the roof, Mitsuru Kirijo had thought she had seen something, but was doubtful if her eyes were just playing tricks on her.

For but a moment, maybe, just maybe—

A little hope has lit up in the eyes of Minato Arisato.

He had feared being forgotten.

He had feared being alone.

Deep down, he knew that he still wanted their company, their warmth, and their help—

He still wanted his friends and his family.

He had resolved himself that he would gladly give his life for a world where he had the chance to save everyone from the misery they shouldn't have experienced, even if it meant great repercussions in the future. The consequences were of trivial matter to him as long as everyone got to live the life that they were supposed to without the interference of the Dark Hour, the Shadows; everything.

But the death of his mother and father hit him hard. It was a simple greeting from reality; that even if he did correct a few things, what was to stop fate from doing something else? What if what he did ended up all for nothing, with him only worsening things?

He hesitated. He knew that he was now refusing to look at reality in the eyes for being another witness to its brutality.

But even if that was the case . . .

Even if things looked grim . . .

Just like the girl had told—

He must continue to march on.

But for now, he wanted to just gather himself, and piece together the pieces that had just shattered.

Before he continues down the now unlit path, he wanted to just let it out for now; to cry and succumb to the pains of a world he had no true control of no matter how many things he tried to change.

He was glad for Mitsuru's presence, even if it was just for a bit.

Even if she was just eight, she's still the same Mitsuru I had gotten to know.

"It is nice to meet you. I am Takeharu Kirijo, current head of the Kirijo Group."

"And I'm Eiichiro Takeba, a scientist working under Mr. Kirijo here. Little Yukari's my daughter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Minato Arisato. The pleasure's all mine."

Just minutes ago, Minato and Mitsuru had finally returned to Minato's room for him to speak with Takeharu and Eiichiro concerning the events that transpired at the now destroyed Kirijo Laboratories over Port Island. Upon arrival, they were first greeted by a fuming Yukari, who complained to Mitsuru about her leaving for 15 minutes and forgetting her. After Mitsuru managed to calm down the resident brunette, Eiichiro and Takeharu had arrived. Yukari and Mitsuru were then asked to go and spend time together elsewhere while the three discussed matters.

"First, we'd like to express our deepest apologies for your loss. I even personally knew Makoto and Miyuki, but never have I heard them mention of you."

Minato bowed, finding the eyepatch-wearing man's words ring with sincerity. "Thank you. I appreciate it. So, what is it that you want to know?"

Eiichiro started. "Well, we'd like to know of what occurred after the time you had knocked me out."

Minato nodded, and then began his explanation of the sealing of Death within him, noting to himself to exclude the part about using the card given to him by hisa companion of his benefactor and the inclusion of sealing Nyx herself into him.

"So, you say that the Harbinger needed to actuate the Fall now rests within you?" Takeharu asked.

". . . I know you might not believe me, but that's what happened."

Takeharu shut his other eye, and cupped his chin with a hand. "To be honest, yes, I am quite skeptical about this."

"Well, I know a way we can test that, Mr. Kirijo," Eiichiro cut in. After Takeharu arched an eyebrow in confusion, he then nodded at the scientist's direction and allowed him to demonstrate just what he meant.

Eiichiro moved near Minato by his bedside, and then produced a sort of thin, silver cylinder from his coat. "This little gadget emits a light which cannot be detected in the different spectra of light. What it does is show us the condition of your eyes—if it appears the same under the light, you're normal; if your irises turn a hue of yellow, then a Shadow is inside you. We learned of this while we collected Shadows. Shadows would try to escape by bonding with a worker, and later we discovered by accident through some of the weird experiments conducted on lights by another researcher that the light produced from this small gadget revealed the change of iris color on individuals who had become controlled by the dark creatures. Other signs included the paling of skin complexion, and the darkening of hair color. Well, the last two are apparent on you, so let's just check your eyes."

"But why this, Takeba? I thought we were testing for the Harbinger," Takeharu spoke. Eiichiro then enlightened him.

"Well, the Harbinger only turned into its looks due to the combining of the captured Shadows. Since it is a collection of Shadows, it would be right to say that if it does possess someone, then the changes could also occur in the individual."

Eiichiro then pointed the light into Minato's eyes, examining it. "Yup, they're yellow, alright. He may be very well telling us the truth."

"Well, here's another important question then, Arisato. What do you intend to do with the Harbinger?"

"Well, . . . . "

". . . That's it. Nothing else."

"I understand. I will make sure no one else catches wind of this. Well then, please rest. We must have exhausted you."

Takeharu sighed, having gotten so many unexpected answers from just a child who had the mind of someone older.

This boy . . . choosing to bear such a cross for a cause like that . . .

"I'm glad you understood my situation, Mr. Kirijo, Mr. Takeba."

Eiichiro nodded. "It's fine. I . . . suppose that whatever's going to happen needs to happen, as per your cause, right?" Minato answered with a nod. "I see."

There seems to be more to the lad than can be seen.

"Well then, if you would so wish it, we at Kirijo would be willing to help you with anything. Right now, we owe—no, the world seems to owe you a great deal. I'll make sure to have you covered after your full recovery."

Minato bowed at Takeharu once more, expressing gratitude. "Actually, there is one thing right now, Mr. Kirijo."

"What is it?"

The lad's eyes moved towards the window, and then he confirmed in his mind the life he would then be changing next.

Well, maybe lives.

The lad then turned to face Takeharu, his resolution burning again. I'm still not over some . . . things, but right now I need to stay true to the path I have chosen.

"There's this orphanage I would like to be put into."

AFTERWORD

Hey guys. Here's an update. I'd like to thank the current support everyone's showing. This chapter's another one for a little emotional development with more interaction with Mitsuru. To explain some things, if you're wondering why she appears a little too mature for the conversation with Minato is that I wanted to show just how mature she'd been during her childhood. I'd like to use this as a later plotpoint to exploit for development. Also, I hope I did well enough in the talk between Minato and Mitsuru, since I feel like it's still a bit too awkward at the moment.

Also, I'd like to say that we won't be seeing action this early. I'd like to focus on Minato's development first and the task he'd like to do. A little spoiler-the battles begin during the the near end of the arc with the confrontation with Ikutsuki. Yup, he's going to be a boss that Minato's going to own for his crimes in P3. YES.

I'll be commenting on the reviews during the next chapter, so for those who took the time to review on the second chapter, I am thankful for the support. I hope you stay tuned and like this chapter even if it's still on the more dramatic and awkward side.

And, late happy birthday to me! I turned 17 last May 1st! Here's a cake for everyone! :D

~Arsony