...04/10/2009 Sunday; Dark Hour...
...FULL MOON OPERATION...
Hiro and Minato ran right behind the others, keeping pace as the sound of Aigis' machine guns finally came to a stop.
The barrels were still smoking when she leapt back, landing with mechanical precision as the rest of S.E.E.S. moved in to close the perimeter.
Hiro reached inside his overcoat as he ran.
The curved blade of his kukri slid out with a cold gleam.
"Minato, use Orpheus!"
Minato nodded without slowing down.
The Evoker appeared in his hand in a fluid motion.
He spun it once around his finger before pointing it at his own head.
"Orpheus!"
He pulled the trigger, and a blue flash exploded beside his head.
Above Minato, the figure of Orpheus began to emerge.
The Persona hovered over him, the harp bound to its body.
Ahead of them, the Arcana of Strength braced her hands against the ground, trying to rise amid the broken bars.
Orpheus pulled his harp from his back and ran his fingers across the strings.
A melody echoed through the street as he used Agilao.
Flames formed in front of him, slowly swirling until they shaped into a pulsing sphere.
The fireball shot down the street.
It tore through the air like a comet and struck the Arcana of Strength in the face.
The explosion lit up the street.
The Shadow let out a piercing scream as flames engulfed her, recoiling and dragging herself backward.
But something moved within the fire.
Hiro's silhouette burst through the flames with a leap.
The fire parted around him as he charged forward.
With a shout of effort, he raised the kukri and brought it down toward the creature.
The Arcana of Strength let out a startled cry.
At the last second, her body lurched to the side.
Hiro's blade cut through empty air.
The kukri slammed into the asphalt exactly where the Shadow had been a moment before.
For a brief moment, Hiro was exposed.
The Arcana didn't miss the opportunity.
She raised her hand, and one of the broken bars began to vibrate.
Then it shot forward like a bullet.
The metal bar tore through the air at absurd speed, whistling straight toward Hiro.
He yanked the kukri from the ground and leapt aside.
The bar grazed past his body—
But mid-movement, he reached out toward it.
He grabbed one of the bars.
The force nearly wrenched his arm backward, his feet dragging across the ground.
The metal vibrated, trying to break free from his grip, pulled by the Shadow's force.
Hiro gritted his teeth in irritation, then pivoted on his heels without letting go.
"NOT A CHANCE!"
With a shout of effort, he spun and hurled the bar back.
The metal projectile sliced through the air.
The Arcana of Strength barely had time to react.
The bar struck her square in the head.
The impact made the Shadow stagger backward, the bars of her body rattling as she let out a startled grunt.
The Arcana of Strength brought her hands to her face.
Her fingers trembled against the mask.
Black liquid streamed through the broken bars of her body, dripping onto the ground. Her chest rose and fell unevenly.
She looked ahead.
And saw S.E.E.S. charging toward her.
The street seemed to close in around her.
Time was running out.
Akihiko and Junpei were already pulling out their Evokers, raising them toward their heads.
The Arcana of Strength drifted back slightly in the air.
And then, by instinct—
Her chest expanded suddenly—
And a scream exploded out of her.
The sound was violent.
A sonic wave tore through the street like an invisible explosion.
Everyone reacted at once, clamping their hands over their ears.
Pain shot through their heads like needles driven straight into their brains.
It felt like their skulls were about to split open.
Then—
The scream stopped.
Silence returned all at once, heavy and distorted.
The Arcana of Strength didn't waste a second.
She turned her head toward Mitsuru.
A few meters ahead.
With a thunderous burst, the Shadow's body shot through the air.
Like a projectile.
"Shit!" Akihiko shouted, still dazed. "Watch out, Mitsuru!"
Mitsuru lifted her head, still fighting the ringing in her ears.
Her eyes widened.
The Arcana of Strength was coming straight at her.
Too fast.
Before she could react—
BOOM!
The Shadow barreled over her like a charging bull.
"AAH!"
The impact ripped Mitsuru off her feet.
Her body spun through the air and slammed against the asphalt.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Her skin scraped against the concrete, sparks of pain tearing through her as parts of her uniform ripped.
Then—
CRASH!
She slammed into the windshield of a parked car.
The glass exploded into fragments.
The frame caved in under the impact.
Her body was pinned for a moment before slipping free and falling to the ground among the shards.
Hiro's eyes widened.
"MITSURU!"
But the Arcana of Strength was already far away.
Not stopping.
Not looking back.
She shot off again through the empty streets of the Dark Hour, fleeing with what little strength she had left.
Akihiko spat to the side, biting his own lip in frustration.
"Damn it…"
He quickly looked at Hiro and Fuuka.
"Hiro, Fuuka!" His voice was firm. "We keep chasing the Arcana."
He pointed toward Mitsuru, lying near the wrecked car.
"Check on Mitsuru!"
Hiro and Fuuka nodded immediately.
Without wasting time, they ran toward her.
While the rest of S.E.E.S. had already started running down the street again.
Hiro and Fuuka ran down the street toward the wrecked car.
Shards of glass still covered the asphalt around it, while Mitsuru tried to get up.
She braced one hand against the ground and pushed herself upward, but a dry cough escaped her chest before she could steady herself.
"Damn…"
Hiro reached her side, crouching down and gripping her shoulders firmly.
"Mitsuru." His voice came out low, heavy with concern.
Mitsuru leaned against him and remained kneeling among the glass shards. Her eyes met his.
Hiro looked scared.
She coughed again, bringing a hand to her mouth as she tried to catch her breath.
"I'm fine…" she said between short breaths. "Don't worry."
Fuuka arrived, nearly skidding to a stop beside them. Her hands were already at her belt, searching for something.
"Kirijo-senpai!" She pulled out a Media Crystal and knelt next to Mitsuru. "Here, this will make you feel better."
She pressed the crystal against Mitsuru's chest and crushed it.
A soft white light spread across her body, like luminous water flowing over her wounds. The scratches on her arms began to fade. Small cuts closed before their eyes.
The tension in Mitsuru's muscles eased.
She let out a long breath, as if she could finally breathe properly again.
Her hand rested against Hiro's chest for a moment.
Then she smiled—small, but sincere.
"Thank you, Yamagishi."
Hiro let out the breath he seemed to have been holding ever since he saw her get thrown.
Relief passed quickly across his face.
He stood up and extended his hand.
Fuuka was still watching Mitsuru closely.
"Can you still run?"
Mitsuru nodded without hesitation, taking Hiro's hand.
"Yes." She stood with his help. "We still need to stop the Arcana."
Hiro pulled her up firmly.
"That bitch won't stay down…" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, before looking at Fuuka. "Fuuka, how much time do we have?"
Fuuka turned her gaze toward Tartarus.
The monstrous tower rose on the horizon, distorted as always during the Dark Hour.
Among the twisted structures, the massive warped clocks turned slowly.
Her eyes locked onto one of them.
The hand was almost at the top.
Almost midnight.
Fuuka's eyes widened.
"Oh no…" She swallowed hard. "We only have a few minutes before the Dark Hour ends."
Hiro closed his eyes for a second, gritting his teeth.
"Shit…" He looked at both of them. "Let's move. We need to catch up with the others."
Without another word, he started running.
Mitsuru and Fuuka followed right behind him, the three of them crossing the empty street as they ran to catch up with the rest of S.E.E.S. and the Shadow Arcana of Strength still fleeing through the city before the Dark Hour came to an end.
MEANWHILE...
The wind kept blowing through the alley.
Air currents slammed against the building walls and funneled down the narrow passage, lifting dust and making Ken's uniform and Shinjiro's overcoat ripple.
Neither of them moved.
Their eyes locked onto each other.
Ken's spear was still pointed straight at Shinjiro's chest.
The tip trembled almost imperceptibly.
Tears streamed down the boy's face, one after another, falling onto the cold concrete of the alley.
His chest rose and fell rapidly.
Two years holding all of that in.
And now the man he hated was right there.
In front of him.
Shinjiro simply watched.
He could see everything on Ken's face.
The fury.
The despair.
That wound that had never healed.
Slowly, Shinjiro pulled his hands out of his overcoat pockets.
No rush.
No sudden movements.
He extended one hand and grabbed the tip of the spear.
His fingers wrapped around the cold metal.
Ken stiffened.
But Shinjiro didn't pull hard.
He didn't try to push the weapon away.
With a slow movement… almost careful…
He guided the tip of the spear.
Until it pressed against his own chest.
The metal pushed against the fabric of his coat.
Shinjiro let go of the weapon. His eyes remained fixed on Ken's.
His voice came out low.
"If that's what you want…" The silence seemed to split in half. "Then finish it."
Ken froze.
His eyes widened.
The spear lowered without him noticing.
"W… what?"
He wiped his tears with his arm, still staring at Shinjiro as if looking at something impossible.
Shinjiro shook his head slowly.
"I won't stop you."
He reached inside his overcoat.
When he pulled his hand back out, there was something in it.
His Evoker.
The dark metal faintly reflected the green glow of the moon.
Ken looked even more confused.
Shinjiro glanced at the object for a moment.
His fingers tightened around the grip.
"When all of that happened…" he said, his voice low, steady. "I didn't want to accept that I had killed your mother, Amada."
The wind blew through the alley again.
"So I ran away."
His fingers tightened even more around the Evoker.
"I left S.E.E.S. And I started using drugs… just to suppress my Persona."
The words came out heavy.
As if each one carried weight.
"I didn't want to face the truth."
The metal of the Evoker creaked under the pressure of his grip.
"But that didn't get this shit out of my head."
He took a deep breath.
"Every time I did anything…" His eyes lifted toward Ken. "I remembered that day."
For a moment, silence filled the alley again.
Shinjiro stared at the boy.
Just a boy.
Carrying a trauma he should never have known.
But the world didn't care about that.
Fate didn't either.
Shinjiro's voice came out heavier.
"I don't expect you to forgive me."
He nodded once.
As if confirming something to himself.
"But this…" His eyes didn't waver. "This is what I deserve."
Ken held his spear with both hands, his fingers so tense his knuckles were white.
His gaze was fixed on Shinjiro — a look desperately trying to find some logic in what was happening.
Why?
The question echoed in the boy's mind like a hammer striking over and over again.
Why is he saying this?
Shinjiro didn't move. He just… stood there. Breathing deeply, as if the air itself weighed on his chest.
Shinjiro looked at the Evoker in his hand. The cold metal faintly reflected the light of the Dark Hour's full moon.
And then it came.
The storm.
Memories Shinjiro had spent years trying to swallow, trying to bury deep enough so they wouldn't hurt anymore — but they never hurt any less.
The night Kastor, his own Persona, lost control. The blood. The body on the ground. The woman's eyes that would never open again.
Ken's mother.
Shinjiro squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could erase the images. When he opened them again, his arm was already moving and he throw the Evoker away.
The Evoker flew through the air.
The sound of spinning metal cut through the silence of the alley until it slammed against the wall of an building.
It bounced once, twice on the dirty ground, the echo dragging through the dark corners like a lament.
Shinjiro shoved his hands back into his overcoat pockets. His eyes met the boy's again.
"But I need to warn you about something." His voice came out calm.
Ken frowned, the spear still raised, but the intent was no longer the same.
"Warn me?"
Shinjiro nodded slowly.
"If you kill me here… in the end, you'll become like me. Because all you have right now is hatred…"
The words fell between them like stones.
The spear's tip trembled. Ken felt the strength slowly leaving his arms, as if his body was beginning to understand something his mind still refused to accept.
"…but when that hatred fades…" Shinjiro shook his head, his tone now sharper. "…one day, you'll regret it."
"SHUT UP!" The shout tore through the air.
Ken gripped the spear so tightly the metal began to vibrate. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Tears threatened to fall again, but he held them back in anger.
Why doesn't this make sense?
Why isn't he fighting back?
"This doesn't make any sense!" Ken's voice came out shaky, but filled with fury. "Why aren't you doing anything?! Don't you want to live?!"
Ken raised the spear again, pointing it straight at Shinjiro's face. The tears he tried to hold back began to fall again, carving paths down his cheeks.
"WHY AREN'T YOU TRYING TO DEFEND YOURSELF?!"
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush them both.
Shinjiro said nothing. His eyes lost focus for a moment, as if searching within himself for an answer that might not even exist.
But before he could say anything—
"I have to admit…" a voice cut through the silence like a cold blade. "Aragaki is right."
Both of them froze.
But Shinjiro felt something worse.
He recognized that voice.
His entire body went rigid. His eyes widened. Slowly, he turned his head toward the darkest corner of the alley.
The place where he had thrown the Evoker.
Footsteps.
Slow. Each one echoing off the filthy walls, piercing the silence, making their bones tremble.
"You've gotta be kidding…" Shinjiro's voice came out almost inaudible, a thread of air slipping from his lungs. "Ta… Takaya?!"
A silhouette began to reveal itself, as if the night itself were giving birth to something that shouldn't exist. First, pale skin, almost greenish under the Dark Hour's light.
Then, a bare torso, completely uncovered. Long hair, gray like smoke, with a thin strand adorning his forehead.
Golden eyes glowed in the dimness.
Takaya Sakaki stepped beneath a beam of light slipping between the buildings.
In his right hand, dangling from his fingers, was Shinjiro's Evoker. He held it like something curious, something he had casually found among trash.
His gaze moved across the alley — first Shinjiro, then Ken.
For a moment, something like genuine surprise passed through his eyes. As if finding the two of them there, in that situation, was a coincidence far too interesting to ignore.
"What you have there, child…" Takaya's voice dripped like poisoned honey, each syllable carrying a weight that didn't belong to this world. "…is not just sins to bear."
He took a step forward. The darkness seemed to follow him, clinging to his skin.
"It is the purest and rawest… desire for revenge."
TO BE CONTINUED...