PERSONA 3 DEVIL'S HERALD

...24/08/2009 Monday; Sunset...

On the dorm rooftop, Shinjiro paced back and forth, trying in vain to calm the storm raging inside him.

His footsteps echoed against the concrete floor, but every movement only seemed to agitate him further.

Until, unable to contain himself, he slammed his fist against the iron railing, the impact ringing through the air.

"Damn it! Why does it have to be *him* who has a Persona?" His voice came out strained with anger and frustration.

He stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath as he tried to control the fury burning in his chest.

With his gaze fixed on the ground, he sensed a presence behind him. Without turning around, he already knew who it was.

When he finally glanced over his shoulder, he saw Hiro approaching.

Shinjiro leaned against the railing, his eyes still filled with a mixture of pain and rage. "I knew you'd come after me once you saw me leave downstairs."

Hiro leaned against the railing beside Shinjiro, arms crossed, his tone laced with curiosity and concern. "Shinjiro, what happened? I've never seen you with that look before."

Shinjiro let out a deep sigh, as if searching within himself for the courage to speak.

The memories he tried to repress surged forward with force.

The image of that dead woman resurfaced, vivid, as if it had happened just hours ago.

He rubbed the back of his neck before finally voicing the words that tormented him. "Do you remember the woman Kastor killed when he lost control?"

Hiro nodded, recalling what Shinjiro had told him about that day.

He always felt the weight of Shinjiro's guilt, but now, there seemed to be even more layers to that pain.

Shinjiro looked down, his voice nearly swallowed by the wind passing through. "One thing I never told you… There was a kid nearby… It was the woman's son."

Hiro froze, a chill running up his spine. His eyes widened in shock. "Wait… Kastor killed the mother right in front of her kid?"

Shinjiro nodded, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Yeah. And that kid… is Ken."

Shinjiro's words cut through the air like a blade.

Hiro pushed himself off the railing, taking a few steps toward the middle of the rooftop, trying to process what he had just heard.

The coincidence seemed too absurd to be real. He stopped, turned on his heels, and pointed incredulously at Shinjiro.

"You're messing with me, right?" He asked, needing confirmation.

Shinjiro, his eyes heavy, simply shook his head.

The silence that followed screamed the truth Hiro struggled to accept.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to organize his thoughts.

Then, rubbing his face, he stood still in the middle of the rooftop, attempting to process a coincidence that felt far too unreal.

Deep down, he wished it weren't true—but he knew it was.

He looked at Shinjiro, drawing in a shaky breath, trying to summon the courage to continue the conversation.

"Do Mitsuru or Akihiko at least know about this?" Hiro asked, still in disbelief, feeling the weight of the revelation.

Shinjiro crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the ground before lifting his eyes to meet Hiro's. "They do. They might've seemed surprised when they saw Ken because they thought he was just a kid. But beyond that… they were also surprised because it was Ken."

Hiro let out a heavy sigh, almost as if he were carrying the weight of the entire situation.

He started walking toward Shinjiro—but something made him stop.

Shinjiro's face twisted in shock before contorting in intense pain.

Clutching his chest, he dropped to his knees, letting out a muffled cry.

"Shinjiro!" Hiro rushed to his side, kneeling beside him. "What's wrong?"

Shinjiro's body trembled, agony etched into every muscle. "Damn it… not now, Kastor…"

He coughed violently, and Hiro watched as blood stained the ground when the coughing fit stopped.

Without hesitation, Hiro slung Shinjiro's arm over his shoulder, guiding him to a nearby bench.

Carefully, Hiro helped Shinjiro sit down, watching as he pulled a Persona suppressant from his coat and injected it into his wrist.

The pain seemed to subside the moment the drug entered his system, but almost immediately, Shinjiro coughed again, staining his hand with blood.

Hiro sat beside him, his heart pounding with worry and growing impatience. "Shinjiro, what's happening to you? It's not just Kastor. I can see there's something much worse going on."

Shinjiro lifted his gaze to the sky, his memories pulling him back to Takaya's words: "This is destroying you from the inside, isn't it?"

He knew he had to tell the truth—at least to someone. The emptiness in his eyes mixed with a deep melancholy as he turned to Hiro.

"I… I'm dying, Hiro." Shinjiro's voice came out hoarse.

His words hit Hiro like a punch to the gut. He frowned, confused and in shock. "What? What do you mean?"

Shinjiro looked up at the sky, as if searching for strength in the clouds. "After I left S.E.E.S, I started using these Persona suppressants… so Kastor wouldn't hurt anyone else. But…"

Slowly, he removed his beanie, revealing his brown hair falling past his shoulders.

It was rare to see him without it, and that small change only emphasized the gravity of the situation.

"But every time I use this suppressant, Kastor gets angry. And when he gets angry… he starts draining my life force little by little."

Hiro fell silent, his body frozen in place by the shock.

A shiver ran through him, his emotions swirling in an internal storm—anger, despair, sadness.

His eyes burned with unshed tears. He refused to accept what he had just heard.

Someone he considered a brother… was dying.

With a desperate cry, Hiro slammed his fist against the metal bench. "Then why the hell are you still using this shit?!" He shouted, his voice raw with pain. "You should've stopped a long time ago!"

Shinjiro looked at him, his voice heavy with resignation. "I wanted to forget what I did… I wanted to run away. And this was the only way I found. Even if it kills me, at least no one else will suffer because of me… at least no more innocent people will die."

Hiro gripped the bench tightly, feeling the cold metal under his fingers as his mind struggled, in vain, to process Shinjiro's confession.

He took a deep breath, running his hands over his face, battling the overwhelming sense of helplessness taking hold of his chest.

His mind was in chaos, a familiar voice echoing in the back of his head. Igor's words sounded like a distant warning: "Your heart is fractured, Hiro Mikoshi."

Wiping his eyes, even though only a few tears had escaped, Hiro finally spoke, his voice filled with frustration and disbelief. "Even so… you're killing yourself over this… How much time do you have left?"

Shinjiro let out a deep sigh. He looked at his hands, as if the time he had left could be counted in the lines on his palm.

The doctor's words echoed in his mind—the prediction of an inevitable end. "Three months." His voice held a hint of irritation. "I'll probably be dead by November."

Shinjiro placed a firm hand on Hiro's shoulder. He knew how much Hiro hated the idea of losing someone else, especially someone he saw as a brother.

But this was reality, and there was no running from it.

Hiro exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. There were so many questions racing through his mind, so many things he wanted to say—but right now, he needed to know what Shinjiro planned to do.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked, looking at Shinjiro.

Shinjiro removed his hand from Hiro's shoulder and gazed at the sky again, as if searching for answers in the clouds.

A subtle smile formed on his lips. "I remember when you told me that if you ran from all the mistakes you made, you'd already be dead…"

He paused, adjusting his beanie over his brown hair. Then, he continued: "There were times I thought I was just wasting your time by hanging around with you."

Shinjiro looked directly into Hiro's eyes, letting a rare gentleness show—something few people ever saw. "But then I remembered… It's the good memories that keep us moving forward. I need to use the time I have left to help you guys and set things right. And that means facing my fear… and taking care of Ken."

Hiro saw the determination in Shinjiro's eyes—the fire of purpose now burning within him.

The weight of the situation was crushing, but at the same time, the spark in Shinjiro's gaze brought him some peace.

"I'll help you." Hiro said with a genuine smile. "I don't care if you complain, but you're not in this alone. I'm with you, Shinjiro."

Shinjiro smiled, a warmth filling his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time. "Alright, alright. Thanks, Hiro."