The city of Kashihara lay in slumber as night enveloped its urban landscape. Twilight's last whisper gave way to the velvety darkness of the nocturnal sky, punctuated by the occasional flicker of a street lamp or the distant glimmer of a storefront closing down for the day. Residents retreated to their homes, leaving illuminated windows as the last signs of activity before the world held its breath for the enigmatic midnight event.
As the clock’s hands solemnly declared the arrival of a haunting hour, the once familiar cityscape underwent a hushed transformation. Streets, still with a few traces of activity mere moments ago, now stretched eerily and completely quiet, with every person inexplicably ensnared in a time-forged cocoon, akin to coffins that stood as statues to a paused existence. The phenomenon known by the few as the Dark Hour rendered a subtler shade of terror than in Iwatodai. Air grew thick with stagnant time, and although the predatory Shadows that lurked in the coastal city were absent here, an unnerving chill swept through the stillness, whispering of unseen forces at play.
In this otherworldly version of Kashihara, a solitary figure stood out against the paused vignette of urban life – Mitsuru Kirijo. Decked in a suit that bore the aesthetic of sport mixed with the ornate, the heiress of the Kirijo Group maintained her usual posture of disciplined elegance. Silhouetted by the dim lighting of the park where she was, she exuded an aura of preparedness, yet her mind was adrift in an ocean of concern. A gym bag as stylish as her outfit lay by her side on a bench .
Internally, Mitsuru wrestled with an uncharacteristic anxiety.Why the delay? What if he backed out at the last minute? What if he's decided that a life entwined with the Kirijo Group is too much to bear? She chided herself for the worry gnawing at her poise. Keep your cool. ‘Faith in one's decisions is the mark of a leader.’
As the greenish moon climbed higher, casting haunting shadows across her figure, footsteps broke the silence. Growing louder, the cadence cut through her doubt like the promise of dawn slicing the night.
Akihiko Sanada approached the meeting point, his gait both determined and hesitant. His clothes, a stark contrast to Mitsuru's calculated attire, were casual, speaking to the everyday life of an ordinary teenager rather than the clandestine world he was stepping into.
I should've worn something better to meet her... but does it even matter? Shinji has a good point; why am I even going along with this thing? She's probably not even co… His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of her, a lone figure defiantly facing the darkness, making his skepticism dissipate like mist. She's really here.
He joined her.
"You really came," Akihiko remarked with a touch of irony and wariness, his voice and eyes signaling a hint of surprise.
The corners of Mitsuru’s lips almost betrayed a smile, suppressed at the last moment to maintain the armor of her composure. "Good evening, Sanada-san."
Akihiko bristled inwardly. There was a brief moment where their worldviews seemed to collide – her rigurous formality against his raw straightforwardness. Sanada-san? Why does she keep addressing me as if I were some salaryman.?.. Maybe it's just how she is with everyone regardless of their age? He hoped for something different from their first encounter, yet her greeting was as structured as everything he imagined the Kirijo Group to be.
"Please, could you just call me Akihiko?" he said, attempting to close the gap she seemed to set.
While a bit taken aback by the request, Mitsuru abided. “As you wish, Sa… Akihiko-san”.
The night held its breath, the atmosphere tinged with the unspoken questions and a palpable sense of anticipation.
“When did you arrive?”, the boxer asked. “I didn’t expect you to be here before me.”
“Around ten minutes ago.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I couldn't leave my house until time stopped.” Akihiko excused himself. Eager to break the tension and finding an opportunity to keep the conversation alive, he nodded towards Mitsuru's attire. "Hey, is that some kind of training suit?" His tone carried a genuine spark of curiosity, though his nerves tingled with the undercurrent of the situation they were in.
Mitsuru, for her part, remained an icy fortress of decorum. "Yes, it's a light combat suit, tailored for mobility and protection," she explained. Her voice was steady, betraying none of the internal musings that had plagued her earlier. "It's standard for operatives within the Kirijo Group when dealing with the threats of the Dark Hour."
Akihiko couldn't help but show his discomfort at her coldness, eyeing the gym bag on the nearby bench as he did so. "You sure are weird," he remarked out loud, almost to himself, his unease manifesting in blunt honesty.
‘Weird’? The red haired girl, usually impervious to such comments, felt the sting nonetheless. She decided to return the volley. "Vous dit. You’re one to talk with your rather peculiar choice of hair dye. Tell me about it, if you don’t mind."
The boxer’s confusion deepened, as his left hand subconsciously touched his silver hair. "’Hair dye’? No, this is my hair; 100% natural,” he said, with a pinch of amusement.
The revelation seemed to genuinely puzzle Mitsuru, whose eyes flickered with a rare moment of uncertainty. She touched her chin in a thoughtful gesture.
"Strange indeed… It's very unusual for someone your age to have such grey hair," she mused aloud, her gaze analytical.
Pretending to be upset, Akihiko’s expression shifted to a frown, and retorted playfully, "Yeah, I have the hair of an old man. Do you have a problem with that?"
Mitsuru straightened, her face settling back into its more common and impassive mask. "My 'problem,' as you put it," she began earnestly, "is of much greater concern. May I elaborate?"
“Chill out. I was just kidding,” the fighter said, a bit bothered by the fact that she seemed to completely miss his joke. “But OK, go on…”
The Heiress directed her gaze toward the distant city lights that backlit the haunted stillness of Kashihara.
"The world as we know it altered irrevocably in 1999," she began, her voice carrying the weight of a dark and untold history. "An 'incident' transpired that forever changed Iwatodai. A cataclysm that touched the very fabric of our reality."
1999… Just when we started seeing the ‘Shadows’, those words quickly got Akihiko’s attention. His features became as somber as those of the girl in front of him. The prelude of the worst day of my life...
Mitsuru took a breath as she picked the next details to disclose. "It was during that year that the phenomenon we now know as the Dark Hour first emerged. A hidden, interstitial time that exists between one day and the next. It's a time when the collective unconscious becomes manifest. A time that, as you are already aware, most people cannot comprehend or even perceive."
Mitsuru paced her delivery with the poise of one accustomed to bearing heavy burdens:
"During the Dark Hour, Shadows roam in Iwatodai—a distorted materialization of human thoughts and emotions. They are a danger not just to the mind, but to the very essence of an individual. They consume what we know as the human psyche, leaving behind empty shells where there was once life. The condition the media has named as the ‘Apathy Syndrome’ is the most pervasive signature of their work."
Akihiko listened intently, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the gravity of her words, the missing pieces of his experiences starting to slot into place.
"These Shadows... they are our enemies. Each night, they grow stronger, and if left unchecked, the cost to humanity will be unimaginable. We, the Kirijo Group, with our technology and capabilities, have taken up the mantle to fight against the Shadows, to protect the unaware populace, and to search for a way to make the Dark Hour disappear."
There was a brief pause.
“I… I see,” Akihiko said with genuine sympathy and understanding. He believed that she had just finished her account.
However, she quickly proved him wrong.
“Uh?”
To his dismay, her eyes and hands announced that she was far from over:
"When the Dark Hour emerged, I was just a weak and naive child. Six years have passed since then, during which I worked hard to join my family in this fight. At 14 years old, I find myself motivated. The Shadows I have executed are numerous, but our forces have been unable to fully isolate and neutralize their main source, causing me a great deal of frustration and distress. Our current tactics based on Unmanned Anti-Shadow Vehicles are falling short. Due to our misguided complacency, you almost paid the ultimate price last week. Most wouldn't have survived to tell the tale, but you did. Your feat was the wake-up call we needed to change and try something new.”
She placed her right hand on her heart. There was a fire in her eyes that spoke of a deep-seated need to rectify a unspoken guilt.
“To protect the world from this threat, we need more than soulless machines. We need the unlimited power of the human spirit, its unwavering resolve. This is why I train, why I push my limits. This is why we, the few who can, must summon Personas to battle back the tide of darkness."
Her tone teetered on the edge of zeal as she stepped closer, the intensity of her conviction shining through.
"We need to become stronger! Strength is not just a goal; it is our destiny, our responsibility. The Shadows grow with each passing moment, and we must rise to face them head-on. I cannot rest until my mission is fulfilled, and I must keep fighting until that splendid day comes and stands before me!"
Man, I thought the monologues of Mrs. Murasaki in the orphanage were a pain in the ass, but this is on a whole new level. Akihiko, who had initially hung on every word, began to shift from foot to foot. An eyebrow raised and his mouth slightly open in perplexity as Mitsuru carried on.61Please respect copyright.PENANAONP1ftc9hK
"But we cannot do it alone," Mitsuru returned her gaze to Akihiko. "This is why we now seek others who possess the power to summon Personas. This rare gift, is our key to victory. We must refine this power, enhance it, and explore every nuance of its potential. And you have an enormous potential, Akihiko-san. Potential that, if cultivated, could play a crucial role in our struggle. The moment I saw you pummel that Shadow to dust, I knew I had to reach you out no matter what. I could not let that incredible power go to waste. Once you master it, your Persona could get as powerful as mine; even more perhaps. If only we could find more individuals like you…"
The boxer kept listening, but his initial involvement was giving way to a creeping impatience.
Mitsuru, losing herself in the torrent of her own convictions, refused to stop:
"We must cross the boundaries of the ordinary and venture into the extraordinary."
The lips of Akihiko formed a faint and desperate smile.
"With each Shadow we vanquish, we edge closer to victory. With every Persona we awaken, we light a torch in the dark. This battle is not only for me and my family, but for everyone’s souls. I’ve realized that I still have a lot to learn from others. We must join forces to defeat the greatest of evils. My dream of removing this heavy burden off my father's shoulders might soon be a reality. My father is a man who…”
"STOP! THAT’S ENOUGH!" Akihiko finally burst out, his tolerance snapped as he silenced her.
His tone was firmer than he intended, but the sprawling manifesto had left him craving concreteness.
"Please, just stop…" He quickly put himself together as he realized that he shocked her with his spontaneous reaction. “I get it; this is serious, and you want my help, but I didn’t come here to hear you ranting all night. This was supposed to be a training.”
He’s right… Mitsuru sensed Akihiko's restlessness and became aware that her fervency had perhaps overheated the conversation. I have wasted valuable seconds beating around the bush.
With a slight, and for her, a somewhat rare acknowledgment of a misstep, she showed her embarrassment. "I got too carried away. My apologies."
Seeking to reclaim the broken flow of their meeting, the Kirijo heiress turned on towards the nearby bench where her gym bag lay. She reached into its depths and withdrew a gun. It glistened strangely under the affected light of the peculiar hour.
That freaking gun again. It’s the same she showed me in the junior high…The boxer got as nervous as the first time he saw it a few days ago.What is she planning to do with it tonight?
"We will begin your 'training' at once, Akihiko-san," Mitsuru declared solemnly. “Actions speak louder than words, after all”. She offered the device a fleeting glance, sharp and poised, before turning back to face Akihiko. "I must warn you again, though: this won’t be a simple task. You are free to walk away now if you doubt your resolve. What we're about to engage in is not a game. Are you sure you can handle it?" Her grave intonation left no room for confusion about the severity of what they were undertaking.
Akihiko met her gaze, a mix of determination and thunder kindled within him. "Yeah, I'm in," he stated firmly, without a tremor in his voice, reasserting his pledge to see this mysterious journey through.
“Very well,” Mitsuru nodded, appreciating his decisiveness yet realizing that Akihiko could not fully comprehend what he was agreeing to. Now, the test begins.
Her next movement was startling: She lifted the gun and aimed it directly at her temple. It was a calculated demonstration of what he too would have to do very soon.
Akihiko's eyes widened in horror, his previous confidence metamorphosing instantly into frantic concern.
"Wait! What the hell are you doing?!"
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