#(yes i know this is a self indulgent fanfic and not an academic paper but i have STANDARDS dagnabbit)

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

[Previous post for October 30th] [First post for October 30th]

He finally manages to hunt down the error Kirijo had pointed out and wrangle the equation into submission. Which means he can��� for now at least– put math behind him, where it belongs.

He pushes the worksheets towards Kirijo and rolls out his wrists and shoulders while she shuffles them into order and tucks them neatly away. She immediately produces a new stack of paper, flourishing a little like she’s doing some kind of magic trick. And hell, maybe she is– he’s got no idea how she never seems to run out of fresh work to throw at him.

Shinjiro can only sigh in defeat. He did ask for this, after all.

Okay, so not nearly as bad as it could be. That might explain her little burst of showmanship, actually, if she’s presenting him with something that might have a chance to be interesting.

He’s joking, mostly, but Kirijo sighs with real disappointment.

He takes the packet from her and starts to read– it’s mostly about the political pissing contests of various Roman emperors. Not as exciting as he’d hoped; he’s always been interested in what regular people were up to more than anyone who lived in a palace, but he’ll definitely still take it over math. 

As he gets to work, Shinjiro finds himself dwelling on how nice it is, having their verbal fencing matches again. 

Back when S.E.E.S had been brand new, he’d found it incredibly annoying how Kirijo always seemed to have a prim and witty response to anything he might say. He'd thought at first that she just couldn’t stand for anyone else to get the last word, then that she couldn’t stand to let him, specifically, have it. 

It had taken him an embarrassingly long amount of time to clue in to the fact that that was just how she played. Sure, he and Aki bickered for fun more than a little often, but usually as more of a lead-up to a good, hands-on scrap. For Kirijo, though, trading banter back and forth was the whole entire game.

Once he’d figured out that he was supposed to play along, chasing after the upper hand in a conversation became fun instead of frustrating. Knowing that it was always a toss-up whether his teasing would get deftly parried or if he could manage to land the hit and fluster her enough to disrupt her pristine image– it was all part of the game to him. 

He’d tried not to let himself settle into that rhythm again when he’d come back to the dorms, and he’d done an even worse job of it than he had of avoiding his other old habits. Kirijo’s just too good at pushing his buttons, just like Aki. 

But now– Now that he doesn’t feel the need to keep himself at arm’s length anymore, falling right back into step is the easiest damn thing in the world. He doesn’t even need to think about it.

It feels good to have this back. Living his life, whatever’s left of it, means building connections and rebuilding the ones he had purposefully bulldozed before. He’s lucky Kirijo is even giving him a second chance at friendship at all, so he’s not about to waste it. 

There’s absolutely no way he’ll ever say that out loud, though. Especially not to her. 

“Given you’re reading about Rome, that reminds me.” Her voice is a little too light and airy. Someone who hadn’t been on the scheming end of that tone before might have missed it, but Shinjiro can tell right away that she’s trying to get something out of him. 

“Akihiko mentioned that you found his second awakening to be quite amusing,” she continues.

“Yeah, Aki didn’t get it,” he snorts, unable to help himself. “Bet you did, though.”

“There is a certain irony present, yes.” The face she puts on is demure, but the way she flicks a little of her hair over her shoulder looks suspiciously like preening to him. He has to squash down a smile. “You could have filled him in yourself, you know.”

“Sure. But where’d the fun in that be?” The grin he was fighting off wins and Kirijo lowers herself enough to roll her eyes at him in response.

“Yamagishi’s new Persona is Roman as well,” she tries again, casting another line. “Juno.” When he laughs, she frowns at him, apparently not a fan of his reaction. “What’s so funny, Aragaki?”

“Nothin’ at Yamagishi’s expense,” he says. “I just wouldn’t’ve guessed that for her. The whole ‘queen of the gods’ thing would’ve made me think of you, actually.”

Kirijo clears her throat a bit and pointedly does not preen again, just like how he does not feel stupidly pleased with himself over the reaction that she definitely didn’t have.

“Guess it does make sense though," he continues. "If you think about the whole ‘eyes of Argus’ thing. She have peacock feathers?”

“After a fashion, yes.” Kirijo purses her lips thoughtfully. “They are… somewhat abstracted.”

“Well yeah. Almost wouldn’t be a Persona if it didn’t get a little weird with the details, right?”

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t.” She flashes another short-lived smile and then goes back to looking thoughtful. He can practically hear gears turning as she weighs whether or not to make another attempt. “Amada’s was something of a surprise. She's called Kala-Nemi.”

He wracks his brain and comes up empty. “Don’t recognize that one. Doesn’t sound like a Roman name, though.”

“I was unfamiliar as well. And you’re correct– she’s from Bronze Age India, from a tradition that predates Hinduism. It took quite a bit of effort to find any information about her, actually. She shares her name with two other male figures from Hindu texts, and references to them are far more plentiful. From what I understand, though, she was a spirit associated with the Wheel of Time and the changing of the seasons. 

“As a Persona, she excels in healing and protection magic. The new Theurgy Amada gained from awakening to her is– it’s extraordinary.” The way Kirijo says the word makes it clear that it’s a gigantic understatement.

Healing and protection, huh? 

“That’s better for him,” Shinjiro says softly. The image of Amada from the other day, hunkered in on himself with guilt and nerves, is still fresh in his mind.

“It is,” Kirijo murmurs. She’s silent for another few seconds, clearly hoping that he’ll take his cue at last. 

And sure, he could talk about his new Persona, like she’s been nudging him to. He could also speculate about whether he’s got his own new Theurgy. But what would be the point? The next full moon is just four days away, and then none of it is going to matter anymore.

Kirijo sighs, accepting defeat. “Pardon me for distracting you from your reading. I’ll let you get back to it.”

“No worries.” He means it, too. Kirijo might push, but unlike Aki, she does know when to call it quits.

It’s yet another thing Shinjiro appreciates about her.