PERSONA 3 DEVIL'S HERALD

...22/08/2009 Sartuday; Dawn...

Shinjiro walked through the streets shrouded in a soft mist, typical of the early morning—4:45 a.m.

His imposing figure, dressed in his usual wine-colored coat with black details, a brown high-neck long-sleeved shirt, black pants, and brown Chelsea boots, stood out against the quiet backdrop.

The gray beanie covering his brown hair added to the somber aura he always carried.

He slipped into a hidden alleyway, driven by a commitment that seemed unavoidable. But suddenly, he stopped.

A familiar emptiness surged in his chest. His eyes widened, and a sharp pain struck him, forcing a muffled cry from his throat.

His legs gave out, and he leaned against the wall before collapsing to his knees, struggling to breathe.

His vision began to blur as he heard the neighing of Castor, his Persona, echoing in his mind.

Shinjiro knew what this meant: Castor was furious, trying to break free. Once again, his Persona sought to destroy him.

Desperate, Shinjiro fumbled through the pockets of his coat, trying to find the inhibitor. But they were empty.

"Damn it... I left the last one in my locker," he muttered angrily, feeling the pain intensify.

Then, a sinister laugh cut through the silence of the alley. Emerging from the mist were two figures.

Takaya Sakaki and Jin Shirato, members of Strega, walked toward him.

Takaya advanced with a sarcastic, almost mocking gait, while Jin followed with a cold and calculating expression.

Takaya laughed again, a bitter sound that reverberated through the alley as he looked at Shinjiro with disdain.

There was an air of superiority in every step, as if he had anticipated this moment.

"Look at you," Takaya began, his yellow eyes gleaming with malice. "Struggling against what you wanted to suppress. How pathetic, Shinjiro Aragaki."

Shinjiro coughed, the metallic taste of blood already filling his mouth.

Even amidst the pain, he managed to summon the fury that burned in his chest.

"I wanted to suppress my Persona..." he gasped, each word a struggle. "I don't care if it kills me."

Takaya's laugh only stoked the anger within him, but at the same time, it gnawed at his resolve.

Jin sighed in frustration, opening his briefcase and pulling out a paper bag, but before he could hand it over, Takaya raised a hand to stop him.

His eyes remained fixed on Shinjiro, who was still writhing in pain.

"Not yet, Jin. We haven't been paid in full," Takaya said coldly.

Shinjiro, leaning against the wall, fought to stand. His voice was strained with pain and anger. "Oh, for fuck's sake... Didn't I pay you yesterday?"

Jin scoffed irritably, adjusting his glasses as he held the bag, which made a metallic clinking sound, as if filled with syringes.

"Yes, you paid the bare minimum. But Takaya wants more than money. We know you've returned to your group, Aragaki."

Shinjiro froze, staring at Jin and Takaya, trying to grasp the implication of those words. "What?"

Takaya kept his cold expression, his eyes gleaming with hidden intentions. "What we want is information about SEES. Who's your leader? And who's the strongest?"

A chill ran down Shinjiro's spine, alerting him to Takaya's true intent.

He realized their target could be Mitsuru, Minato, or Hiro.

Clenching his fists, Shinjiro tried to control his words, knowing any slip could compromise SEES's safety.

"You think I'd tell you anything? Not even if you beat it out of me," Shinjiro replied firmly.

Takaya gave a faint smile of disapproval. "As I thought… You wouldn't talk. But don't worry, I already know where to focus my attention."

He gestured to Jin. "Go ahead and hand it over."

Jin tossed the bag to Shinjiro, who caught it mid-air, still on his knees.

"This will be the last batch we give you, Shinjiro Aragaki. Don't forget, you're not like us. Your Persona is pure," Jin said with disdain.

Takaya's sinister smile made Shinjiro's blood run cold. "Yes, you know you shouldn't even be using our Persona inhibitors. Yours is pure, unlike ours, which were artificially created. It's destroying you from the inside, isn't it?"

The pain in Shinjiro's chest intensified, and he let out an anguished cry as he tore open the bag, finding the syringes inside.

He quickly grabbed one, injecting it into his neck, and felt immediate relief as the pain subsided and his vision cleared.

He glared at Takaya with hatred in his eyes.

"I know these things are killing me. But I'd rather die from this than let my Persona lose control and hurt innocent people!" Shinjiro snarled through clenched teeth.

Takaya sighed, turning his back to Shinjiro. "I understand. I hope that when death finds you, it's not by my hand."

He glanced over his shoulder one last time as he walked into the mist. "Until death reunites us, Shinjiro Aragaki."

Takaya and Jin vanished into the alley's fog, leaving Shinjiro behind, exhausted.

The cold caused by the inhibitor began to seep into his body, making his movements slow and heavy.

He looked at the empty syringe in his hand and dropped it to the ground, crushing it underfoot in frustration.

"Nobody knows I'm dying. But..." His thoughts wandered to the conversations he'd had with Hiro at the restaurant, where they'd shared secrets and spoken of their lives.

"But should I tell Hiro about this?"

Straightening himself, Shinjiro tucked the bag of inhibitors into his coat and left the alley, heading back to the dorm.

He was determined to keep training, even knowing his time was running out.

...22/08/2009 Sartuday; Midday ...

The dormitory was quiet, almost empty, with most of the S.E.E.S. members out preparing for the summer festival happening later.

Only Shinjiro, Koromaru, Fuuka, and Hiro remained at the dorm.

In Hiro's room, he was carefully sharpening his kukri while listening to music on his phone.

The steady rhythm of the blade against the sharpener was interrupted by a vibration: a new message on his phone.

He set the kukri down on his desk and picked up his phone, seeing the message was from Fuuka.

**Message:** *Hiro, can you come to my room? I'd like to give you something.*

Hiro raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Give me something, huh?" he muttered to himself, curious.

He threw on a shirt that had been lying on his bed and stepped out of his room.

On the second floor, he walked toward Fuuka's room.

The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear her muffled voice, murmuring anxiously to herself.

"Which one should I choose? Yukari-san said this yukata matches my hair, but… do I really look good in a yukata?" Fuuka sounded hesitant, speaking to herself.

Hiro stopped at the doorway, observing her quietly. Fuuka, with her short, teal-blue hair and soft gray-brown eyes, was wearing a light aqua-green summer dress that shimmered under the room's light.

She had on black leggings and simple black slippers, looking nervous about her clothing choice for the festival.

"Fuuka?" Hiro called softly, stepping into the room.

Fuuka let out a small yelp of surprise, spinning around abruptly, her eyes wide with alarm.

Seeing it was Hiro, she exhaled in relief, her racing heart calming down.

"Oh, Hiro, it's just you," she said, putting the yukata she'd been holding back on the bed.

Hiro stepped closer, slightly concerned. "Is something wrong? I saw your message and came right away."

Fuuka, now remembering why she had called him, had a brief flashback.

During one of her trips to the mall, her eyes caught something in a men's accessory shop—a bracelet with a Yin-Yang symbol.

The moment she saw it, Hiro's image came to mind, and she couldn't resist buying it.

The memory passed, and Fuuka walked over to her desk, picking up a small box.

With a shy smile, she extended it toward Hiro, who took it, curious.

"What's this?" he asked, examining the box.

Fuuka smiled, a little nervous. "I found a bracelet that I thought would suit you, so I bought it. I don't know if you'll like it, but..."

Hiro opened the box, revealing the bracelet. As soon as he saw it, an unguarded smile spread across his face.

"So, what do you think?" Fuuka asked, anxious for his reaction.

Hiro picked up the bracelet, still smiling. "I love it. Thanks, Fuuka."

Fuuka let out a sigh of relief, her smile growing as well. "I'm so glad. When I saw it, I thought of you… You have this balanced side, you know? Even when you're angry or fighting, it's like you're someone else. But deep down, you have a good heart, Hiro."

Hiro began fastening the bracelet around his wrist, and Fuuka noticed a different kind of light in his eyes.

She knew the promise they had made was working—Hiro was trying to become a better person, and it filled her with hope.

"Hiro," she said softly, "you seem happier."

He looked up at her, curious. "What do you mean?"

Fuuka smiled kindly. "Since you joined S.E.E.S., you've always seemed so angry... like there was a void in your chest. But now, it feels like you've lifted a weight off your heart."

Hiro met her gaze, a hint of gratitude in his expression. "Well, I guess I have you to thank for that. Let's just say that if it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't have tried to be a better person."

He raised his hand and gently placed it on Fuuka's head, causing her to blush slightly.

With care, he ruffled her hair, showing his sincere affection.

"Honestly, you're like the little sister I never had, Fuuka. And I won't forget our promise," he said with genuine warmth.

Fuuka's eyes filled with joy, and she couldn't resist hugging him tightly, her emotions overflowing.

"I'm so glad to hear that, Hiro. You're amazing," she murmured, tears of relief glistening in her eyes.

Hiro smiled and returned the hug, feeling the depth of the bond they had formed.

It was a new feeling for him, something comforting.

He realized then that he had someone he could fully trust.