2026-02-04: A Breach of Trust
- Log: A Breach of Trust
- Cast: Shinjiro Aragaki, Mitsuru Kirijo
- Where: Iwatodai Dormitory
- OOC Date: February 04, 2026
- IC Date: September 20, 2012
- Summary: Shinjiro meets with Mitsuru to tell her about Strega, giving her what info he has on their membership and telling her that he traded them info for suppressants. While she is angry, Shinjiro's defeated demeanor leads to the two working on a plan to push forward. While Mitsuru suggests shouldering the burden of blame herself, Shinjiro refuses, and they make an agreement to talk to Akihiko together about everything that's happened.
<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
Shinjiro's been dreading this day, ever since the Strega attack on the dorms. Ever since he told several of the others what was going on. Ever since Suzume told him he needed to tell her *everything*.
Case in point: he sends Mitsuru a simple series of text messages. It may seem to have taken only seconds or minutes. He first drafted it an hour ago in a notes app.
>are you free today?
>we need to talk about strega.
>command center?
Shinjiro has changed out of his school uniform. He's been attending diligently since the semester began, keeping his promise there, but his coat is much warmer than even the winter uniform he's wearing in the summer and so is preferred.
He's already there at whatever time they arranged. He isn't seated yet, standing near the table, and he's quiet. Lost in thought, perhaps.
This can't be a pleasant conversation. But he's hoping it's better than he thinks it will be.
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
She should have been there.
More than anything, that - of course - was the overriding thing dominating Mitsuru Kirijo's thoughts in the aftermath of Strega's attack. She was quick upon her arrival after the fact to see to medical needs and any repairs that needed to be done throughout the building -- quick to apply the bandaids when the wound was already struck.
But she wasn't there, when they all actually needed her, and her failing simply infuriated her.
It's not the only thing that made her angry, of course; just the lion's share. There was also just the simple fact that Strega would be so brazen as to attack a school facility - a facility that had children residing there now. It was beyond the pale - beyond anything that their previous behaviors might have suggested - and instantly put SEES on the back foot.
Outpaced. Outplayed. Threatening her people in their own home.
Mitsuru has much to be angry about. And that means she has to be as active as possible to make up for it.
So when Shinjiro sends out that text, the response is immediate, full of that impeccable formatting and grammar Mitsuru employs even in casual exchanges.
>Yes. We do. Now.
>Head to the command room. I will be there promptly.
Shinjiro isn't waiting long before the wide double doors leading into the command center crack open with the softest groan of hinges and the nigh-imperious clack of heels.
Mitsuru's arrival is prompt; her expression and bearing is as regal and uncompromising as ever, even still dressed in the school uniform as she is. It'd take someone who knows her, and the little nuances in her body language - the stiffness of her posture, the sharpness of her stare, the fact that she, too, does not sit - to know she was still upset.
Or the simple fact that she engages immediately in business mode, eschewing formalities entirely for a simple question that cuts to the quick:
"What do you have for me, Aragaki?"
<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
Shinjiro is snapped out of his thoughts by Mitsuru's immediate words. Her anger is something he knows well from two years ago, and her quirks haven't super changed in that time, from what he's seen. They fought a lot.
He's expecting another one, even if he doesn't have the energy to fight about it. His body is tense. His expression is worn.
"Information on who attacked us... and an apology," Shinjiro says after an exhaled sigh. He doesn't know if having info will soften the blow, but that doesn't really matter. If anyone can do something with it, it's Mitsuru. Protecting SEES is the most important thing here.
He reaches into his pocket, pulling a prepared notebook out. He reaches to hand it over. He'll let Mitsuru scan through it before he speaks - it isn't long.
It describes the members of Strega who were there by appearance, and their names. Takaya Sakaki. Jin Shirato. Chidori Yoshino (who did not fight). Niko Kirisaki. Tatsuya Sudou, or, the Joker Killer. 'Okaga?', the only one he's uncertain of. It describes the abilities he knows, which are mostly Niko's reliance on striking force and psychic blows due to their multiple fights, as well as Chidori's jamming, and a whole writeup on the Joker Killer that is basically 'fuck that guy he's scary'. There's a street in Shinjuku marked, as well as a description of the Port Island back alleys... former meeting places?
"...this is all I've got off the cuff. But... there's something you need to know. Strega used to have me trade information for doses. It started with just stuff on the supernatural I'd hear about, or things I'd pick up on the street."
A sigh, as he rolls his shoulders. "But in exchange for the Evoker I used to help Yamagishi... they wanted information on Persona users I knew about. Mostly names. A little bit of capabilities. A general vibe on cohesion. I gave this to them the last time I ever met with Shirato, which was right before my arrest."
In exchange for his last dose, it seems...
Shinjiro closes his eyes. "I'm sorry."
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
Information on who attacked us... and an apology.
It's the last part - of course - that has Mitsuru furrowing her brow to a quizzical point. She says nothing at first, those sharp, dark red eyes of hers regarding the exhaustion and weariness writ large on his features.
"..."
The notebook is taken without a word. She cracks it open as Shinjiro speaks, pouring over the names and the details with the swift comb of that steely gaze that Shinjiro can be sure is picking up and committing every fact to memory and extrapolating how to use those facts. Her gaze pauses, briefly, on a name.
"Tatsuya Sudou? Tatsuzou Sudou's son? Then why..."
It's a simple, incidental reveal of a name tied to a nightmare that answers so many questions and yet leaves so many more in their wake. Most importantly: does this deepen her father's theory that Strega was supplied by the NWO -- or does it just call the entire idea into question?
Scarlet lips draw into a thin line. She's analyzing the details of the one named Chidori Yoshina by the time Shinjiro's voice reaches her.
Bits and pieces at first. Doses. Trade information. Supernatural things he'd hear about...
... the Evoker...
"... What?"
Mitsuru's gaze snaps instantly up from the notebook to affix a shocked stare on Shinjiro. All that poise evaporates for a brief few precious moments to reveal naked surprise and confusion writ large on expressive features that do not often betray their existence.
Right before his arrest.
The Evoker.
She knew it came from Strega. Shinjiro told her.
Why didn't she ever ask what they wanted for it--
"You gave them their names," she repeats slowly. "You gave them _names_. Of the people under my _care_."
The clench of fingers on that notepad tighten to the point that they begin to tremble. She works so very hard to maintain a sense of composure and decorum, but--
"Why?! Why didn't you come to me, instead of -- instead of -- putting even more people at risk!"
She knows why. After all, they've talked about it. Extensively. But even so--
"If you had told me this sooner, we could have prepared! Known about the threat! Done something -- anything, than this!"
Anger doesn't deal in the rational, all too often.
<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
"I've been investigating the Joker Killer for months. I've seen his face. That's definitely who it is," Shinjiro insists.
But as he eventually speaks up, as Mitsuru is not only shocked, but angry, Shinjiro sighs. Mitsuru may be expecting him to fight back. Argue. That's what Shinjiro Aragaki would do, after all. Defend himself.
Instead, he seems... defeated. Like he expects the worst, though he probably does every single day of his life. "Because I was a coward, Kirijo. I didn't want you, or Aki, or anyone to know what I'd done to myself. There's no excusing it. I may not have thought it actionable intel, but it was intel."
He grimaces, gritting his teeth. "And now in exchange for a handful of pills, people I love, people I care about, they have been hurt. They gave them my name, told everyone that I helped plan this attack. They want to destroy us, all because of our mission." At the least, that sounds like something that hurts him. It's definitely not true that he planned it.
"I fucked up...! And now I don't know how to fix it."
And boy, does he want to fix it.
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
She's expecting an argument. Like how it always goes. Even in a situation like this, where the stakes and the consequences are so much the worse than any of the other things they would bicker about -- she still expects it. Prepared for it.
So to see Shinjiro just deflate, like a balloon giving up on the last vestiges of helium keeping it aloft--
"You..."
It takes Mitsuru aback, like a pugilist prepared for the counter swing only to duck beneath empty air.
Anger still boils inside of her; and yet for a moment it's clipped back as the Kirijo heiress watches the way Shinjiro grimaces and - for a moment, a depressing moment - sees the weight of Shinjiro's self-destruction and how much it has already ground him down. The redhead's reared back posture settles towards more standard decorum, just a little, tensed shoulders easing a fraction of an inch and drawn back leg stepping into place besides its other half to bring her to a fuller stand.
She watches him for a moment.
_And now I don't know how to fix it._
And then her eyes squeeze tightly shut. A tensed exhale slips past her lips.
It takes an interminable three seconds of silence further before she offers three, calmer words: "... Sit down, Aragaki." She steps forward, even draws one of the seats out for him to take -- before she takes the next, on the sofa, notepad closed and folded into her lap as she crosses one leg over the other and tries to wrestle through the maelstrom of emotions making it so difficult for her to focus now.
"How many people know about the extent of your involvement with Strega?" she offers a question, for now, instead of an immediate balm or further condemnation, even as her mind works.
Trying to think of a solution.
<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
Shinjiro is waiting for the condemnation, even as Mitsuru is taken aback. He doesn't expect a balm, he's not even sure he wants one. He doesn't think he deserves it.
What he gets instead is a chair, which he takes as instructed. He's staring at her, now the one with a quizzical expression for the briefest of moments, before letting just a tiny bit of that tension in his shoulders to ring out, to let it bleed out of him enough so that he can think on the question she asks him.
"Not many. You know, obviously. Fukura questioned me after the attack. I told her about it, as well as my condition. Same with Takeba, Mandai, Kawase, and Aomori. There's Umie Akabane, who gave me the name 'Okaga', though she's unaware I've ever given intel, and we're not sure if that name belongs to someone NWO or Strega, but I'm leaning on the latter. And then there's Strega themselves."
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
Not many.
Mitsuru is already weaving together an idea, a kernel of one. Something to, at least, ensure the peace is kept in the dorms while they figure out how to address the overarching problem. One can see the gears turning behind her gaze even as she asks that question, because her plan hinges on it.
THe others look up to Shinjiro. Trust him. More than anything, she doesn't want to - can't afford to - compromise that.
She already sees a way: to simply put the onus on Kirijo, instead. An information leak. Trust among SEES in her family's company is already tenuous at best -- she'd have to be blind not to see that. If she can spin a story that puts the sin on her company name instead of tainting the way the others see Shinjiro.
The plan is already formulating in her mind by the time Shinjiro starts to list names. As long as it's contained, as long as there's no one who will balk against the story she's fabricating--
... Same with Takeba,...
... And he only manages to reach the second name before the jenga tower of Mitsuru's cobbling thoughts just topples in on itself.
"Zut," she mutters, elbows to knees, thumbs pressed against her glabella.
She's silent for a long time after that exasperated curse. Drawing in a long, slow breath, she releases it all in a slow, steadying exhale.
"... I can shoulder some of the responsibility for this," she finally says. She'll think of a way. She can do it. But...
"... But..."
Her hands lower from her face.
"... You are right. You did make a mistake. A great one. Perhaps you owed no... loyalty... to us, after we went our separate ways," her teeth grit just to say it, "... but innocent people were hurt. And it could have been much worse."
She refrains from bringing up Ken. It'd only be salt on the wound, wouldn't it?
"We can't... 'fix' mistakes like this when they happen, Aragaki. What has been done cannot be undone. All we can do is try to earn back what faith and trust has been lost for our actions. Build it back, one brick at a time. I am... still, trying to figure that out myself."
Fingers thread on top of that notepad. She's still angry. Frustrated. But for now...
"... I'll inform the others of what happened. We will need to adjust how we handle patrols during the Dark Hour. I doubt it will simply stop with this."
She simply tries to focus on what's most important.
<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
Shinjiro listens to Mitsuru's immediate response. It's a plan. It's certainly a plan, perhaps even a good one. If they put the onus on Mitsuru and her company instead of Shinjiro... it might keep the trust up.
"...I don't want our bond to be built on a lie. I... don't think it's fair to them, to treat them like people we have to keep secrets from, and I don't think it's fair to you to shoulder the burden," he admits, and it's *painful* to admit, to broach the same argument they often have of who should shoulder the burden.
"...we can't tell them everything that's ever happened, but this is something they deserve to know. ...Aki, especially."
But he can't tell them about Amada, which he feels would just irrevocably remove all trust the group has for their senpais.
A sigh is exhaled. "It wasn't like that," he insists when Mitsuru talks about loyalty. He's a little more firm on this, because he *is* loyal to Mitsuru and Akihiko. He also just is a coward and a fool who doen't know what he's doing, ever.
"I understand. I'll try to be the person everyone's counting on. ...thank you for allowing me to remain." His face softens at that. Before, he might have taken advantage of this to bow back out.
But he has things he needs to do. He cares about the people here. He's finding a place, as terrifying as that is.
Shinjiro doesn't want to lose another home.
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
Some habits truly die hard.
A protest forms on Mitsuru's lips, as Shinjiro starts to shoot down the basic premise of her plan. Even if the initial one was untenable, she's certain she can make it work; yet, before that protest can truly form -- memories for Yakoshima float back to the surface.
The words of her father's scolding settle at the back of her mind as Mitsuru Kirijo bites back her words and draws up against the couch.
"It isn't..." she begins, and then...
... sighs.
"... I simply don't want them thinking less of you," she says after a time, her voice taut.
Angry though she is, she knows that she couldn't stand for it.
Not after everything he's sacrificed.
Her fingers thrum against the cover of that notepad, twice in slow succession. She can't answer his words of thanks, discourteous as it is -- not right now. Too many thoughts; too many conflicting feelings. Instead, she finally looks up again, gaze focusing squarely on Shinjiro for a quiet, searching moment.
"You need to tell Akihiko," she echoes his own sentiment, before emphasizing a simple word: "Everything. You can't put it off any further. If you wish me to come with you, then I can, but it must be done now. The more people who know, the more likely it is he will find out. Believe me.
"He can't hear it from another person."
<Pose Tracker> Shinjiro Aragaki has posed.
Mitsuru tries to protest. Shinjiro frowns, but he lets his words stand for themselves.
"If that's the consequence of all I've done... so be it."
Even if, perhaps, they will not. Reiya still believed in him, as unfair as it seemed. They were angry, sure, but they were also worried about him. Perhaps Mitsuru really had found a good team.
But, as Mitsuru stares at him, tells him what he needs to do, he nods once, as still as he can be, the fear welling up again, tensing his body.
"I know. I... know. I'm so afraid. Even if he's stronger than I am... I've just been scared to tell him."
He weighs the offer. Shinjiro wants to be stubborn. He wants to say he'll do this on his own, but he's sure he'll fuck it up. That he'll just hurt them both, or run away, or not say what he should.
"...then I'll ask for help a little too late. Will you come with me when I tell him, Kirijo?"
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
They should never have had to be put in this position to begin with, but of one thing Mitsuru is certain:
Regardless of that unavoidable truth, there is not a single member of SEES that does not deserve to be here.
Even if sometimes they make mistakes. Grievous ones. Even if sometimes...
"... I understand. But this is about more than your fears, Aragaki."
... she has to say the harsher things she does not relish saying.
"He is strong. He will want to fight for you, however he can. ... He deserves to."
But still, as Shinjiro takes her up on her offer, that lone visible eye shutters out a blink of muted surprise -- as if sure he would tell her he would handle it himself, like he so often has in the past. She hesitates a brief moment.
The smile she wears is a small thing. A brief thing. Easy to miss.
"... Very well."
But touched, all the same. Despite the circumstances...
"I will."
Some things are more important.
Maybe it's something she herself should take to heart.
Sometimes it's okay to let other people help.