Capítulo 11: Chapter 11: S.E.E.S.
[Third-Person POV]
The final bell echoed through the halls, signaling the end of the school day. Students in class 2-C moved with practiced haste, gathering their belongings and spilling out into the corridors. Among them, Mitsuru was usually among the first to leave.
Today, however, she lingered. There was something she needed to address—a reminder for Ruichi about the meeting tonight. The chairman himself would be visiting the dorm to explain the situation. A small but important responsibility she couldn't overlook.
But when she turned toward Ruichi's desk, she was met with an unexpected sight. A throng of students had encircled him, the volume of their chatter filling the room.
Mitsuru caught snippets of their questions.
"Okinawa, huh? Must be nice!"
"So, why'd you transfer here? This late in the year?"
"Are your eyes naturally that color?"
Some voices were light and curious; others carried the unmistakable edge of opportunistic gossip. And in the center of it all, Ruichi sat with a calm smile. His responses were casual but calculated, a wave here, a deflection there—friendly without giving away much.
It was almost impressive.
Mitsuru stood by the door, her gaze narrowing slightly as she observed him. Her initial impression of Ruichi had been a puzzle of contrasts. His appearance—unexpectedly foreign—stood out immediately. But it wasn't just his looks that set him apart.
He didn't act like someone burdened by the weight of a prestigious family name. No entourage of staff or elaborate fanfare had accompanied his arrival. No delicate furniture sent ahead for his dorm room. Instead, he'd casually shown up with nothing but his luggage. Last morning he even ate instant noodles instead of fancy dietitians approved meals like hers.
Yet, as Mitsuru reflected further, she had begun to notice a different side of him. There was a certain quiet resilience in his demeanor. Stubborn, yes, like when he insisted she not inform anyone about his… unusual circumstances. But also unexpectedly thoughtful. Those brief, sincere comments he'd directed her way—expressions of care that were, perhaps, unnecessary but not unwelcome—lingered in her memory.
And now, this. Watching him navigate the crowd with ease, it was clear he wasn't as detached from his heritage as she'd thought. There was slight experience here, and the kind of charisma that came from being his father's son, a man with influence spanning the Kirijo Group and the Nanjo Group.
Still, she couldn't shake the envy gnawing at her. Ruichi's life seemed refreshingly ordinary. Free from the shadow of family sins, from burdens she had carried since childhood. How different might she have been if her life had been simpler?
Mitsuru sighed softly. It didn't matter. Not now.
Realizing the crowd wasn't going to disperse anytime soon, she straightened her posture and adjusted her bag. Whatever Ruichi's nature, he could handle himself here. Turning on her heel, she left the classroom without a word, her thoughts already drifting back to the dorm and the evening's meeting.
—
[First-Person POV]
The chill of the evening settled into my bones as I stepped off the train at Iwatodai Station. The air felt colder now, perhaps because the exhaustion of the day had finally caught up with me. My first day at Gekkoukan had been... eventful, to say the least.
Between the relentless stream of questions—some genuinely curious, others fishing for gossip—it had been a nonstop social gauntlet. I could tell which were which; there's always that telltale glint in someone's eye when they're just digging for dirt. Still, a handful of them had been kind enough to actually want to know me. Not the transfer student. Not the outsider. Just… me.
That didn't mean I'd forgotten the other looks, though. The guarded, distant stares that reminded me I wasn't one of them, no matter how polite they tried to be about it. I'd seen it before, and I'd probably see it again. Nothing to dwell on. I'd adjust—like always.
As I approached the dorm, its familiar silhouette loomed ahead. A wave of warmth hit me the moment I opened the door, chasing away the evening cold.
Inside, the place was eerily quiet.
It felt… hollow. This wasn't the bustling hub of activity I remembered from the game. No chatter from the ground floor, no gathering of residents in the lounge. Just empty space echoing back at me. Then again, with only three of us living here so far, what did I expect?
I didn't linger. I climbed the stairs, past the boys' floor, past the girls', all the way to the top floor where the meeting room was. Pushing the door open, I found them already waiting: Mitsuru, sitting poised as ever; Akihiko, casually leaning back; and, of course, the chairman himself.
"Sorry, I'm late," I said, stepping in. "Some students just couldn't get off my back."
The chairman looked up with that annoyingly innocent smile of his. "So I've heard. You handled your first day well, Ginba-kun."
"And you're... the chairman," I said, staying on my feet.
"You are correct," he replied, crossing one leg over the other. "My name is Shuji Ikutsuki. Quite the mouthful, isn't it? Feel free to just call me 'Chairman.' Now, please, have a seat."
I sat across from him, with Mitsuru and Akihiko flanking me on either side.
"I believe you've already met these two," the chairman continued, gesturing at Mitsuru and Akihiko. "So no introductions are necessary. I do hope you're getting along."
"They've been helpful here and there," I said with a shrug.
"Good, good." He nodded, his tone turning sharper. "Now, I've heard that something… unusual happened to you recently. On Sunday night, I believe?" His words cut straight to the point.
"So it's out already," I muttered.
"Actually," Akihiko interjected, raising an eyebrow at Mitsuru, "this is news to me. Care to fill me in?"
I turned to Mitsuru, a hint of irritation creeping into my voice. "I thought I asked you not to tell anyone."
She met my gaze without flinching. "It's my duty to report anything concerning the dorm. However, since you insisted on keeping it quiet, I refrained from providing details. I believed it best for you to explain yourself."
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Alright, fine. But before we get into that, my father mentioned something when I called him. He told me to ask you all about… 'Persona Users' and, apparently, Kirijo-san's family situation. He said that's part of the reason for this whole arrangement. Care to enlighten me?"
Mitsuru's composure faltered, her hands clenching slightly before relaxing. The chairman glanced at her, then gave a small nod.
"My family situation… is a long story," Mitsuru murmured. "Chairman, perhaps it's best if you start with the basics—our mission."
"Very well," he replied, folding his hands. "Given that you'll be living here, you'll need to understand the reality of our situation soon enough." He paused, his gaze settling on me. "Tell me, Ginba-kun. Have you noticed anything unusual happening at a specific time of night? Something... unnatural?"
"You mean the part where every midnight the power cuts out and everything suddenly feels like it's dipped in dread?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"Precisely," the chairman replied with a nod. "That phenomenon is called the Dark Hour. It's an additional hour hidden between one day and the next, slipping in at midnight. However, not everyone experiences it. Only a rare few—such as yourself, Sanada-kun, and Kirijo-kun—can perceive it. For everyone else, the world seems to stop, and they turn into coffins, entirely unaware of its existence."
Akihiko leaned forward slightly, his expression serious. "But that's not all. During the Dark Hour, creatures appear—Shadows. They're dangerous beings that feed on the minds of anyone who comes across them. The people they attack? They lose their emotions, their drive—everything that makes them them. We call it Apathy Syndrome. It's usually rare, but It's been happening more often lately, especially around this city."
"And this dorm isn't just a dorm," the chairman cut in smoothly. "It's also the headquarters for our club. We call ourselves the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad—S.E.E.S. for short. We're here to fight these Shadows and stop them from preying on innocent people. Kirijo-kun leads the group, while I serve as the advisor."
"Uh-huh," I replied. "But if that's the case, then what's the deal with the spy cam in my room? Or wait—does Kirijo-san's room have one, too?"
His laugh was light, almost too polished. "Rest assured, Ginba-kun, it's nothing malicious. The cameras are for monitoring. As I mentioned, the Dark Hour doesn't come without consequences. It can have side effects, even for those accustomed to it. The surveillance is purely a precaution to ensure everyone's safety."
"I still don't like it."
"That's understandable," Mitsuru said. "But they are only used when there's something unusual to investigate. They are not active at all times."
That's why I don't like it…
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Whatever, let's just continue the farce for now. "Alright, so what about the 'Persona Users' my father mentioned?"
Mitsuru straightened in her seat, her expression sharpening. "Personas are the only means of fighting Shadows. They are a manifestation of your inner self, like an avatar that represents your true nature. Not everyone can summon one—it requires a strong will and a certain… disposition."
"To summon it," the chairman interjected, gesturing toward Mitsuru, "we use a specific tool."
Mitsuru reached into her bag and pulled out what looked like a sleek, metallic pistol, the letters S.E.E.S. engraved on its side.
"That's an Evoker," The chairman explained. "It's not a weapon, but a device designed to summon Personas. Its appearance is purely symbolic."
"And that's my family's situation," Mitsuru said, setting the Evoker on the table. "I wouldn't blame you for doubting us under normal circumstances. But after what you've experienced, I think you'll find this easier to believe."
I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Alright. Then how about a demonstration? Can you show me this... 'Persona'?"
The room went still. Mitsuru and Akihiko exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable, while the chairman simply smiled, folding his hands in his lap.
"Well?" I pressed.
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