Attention:
I am merely just sharing one of the fanfic
which I somehow found while
browsing some doujinshi on Persona 3 FES
Credits to the writer
+Main Resource+
I am merely just sharing one of the fanfic
which I somehow found while
browsing some doujinshi on Persona 3 FES
Credits to the writer
+Main Resource+
---Koromaru---
Evenings for the past several weeks had been sporadically punctuated with unexplained cold snaps and momentary blackouts. A couple of times, light bulbs had exploded. I had been out on walks for these instances, but I heard the others talk. We lived in a ten-year-old brownstone dorm, not nearly old enough for strange behavior, and I had not noticed any hauntings.
Everyone would return soon. Until then, I was on my own, spending most of the day snoozing by the TV. Mmm yes. It sure would have been nice if someone put a pet door in the place. I'd have to ask Aigis to ask alpha matriarch Mitsuru about that.
As I mused, footsteps came up the front walkway. I knew them, but just to make sure—
One of the common room windows was open for ventilation. Sniff. It was a lovely, shimmery day, no hint of sleet or snow. Cold weather made smelling harder, but I could manage. A couple of black crows cawed in the front lawn, oily wings flapping. Sunlight bounced off warmed grass, carrying the sharp scents of other dogs, a stray cat darting into the alleyway to the north, rubber bicycle tire particles, gasoline fumes, oh, and hmm…two people, two sets of smells, two voices.
Mitsuru-matriarch and alpha patriarch Akihiko, back from school. Most excellent.
Mitsuru said, "So about those new pastries at the bakery—"
It was rare that the two of them were the first ones home. My curled tail wagged furiously, just as happy to see them as the rest of me. The door clacked open, and a refreshing gust of cold air tickled through my fur.
Akihiko chuckled. "Yes, they must be trying to refresh their selection. Hey, Koro-chan. We're back."
Woof! Mitsuru-matriarch was closer. I approached her to investigate.
Mitsuru had distinct fragrances that changed at different points on her body. I snuggled against her calves. The back of her knees, for instance, differed from her wrists. She generally smelled of crisp cedar mixed with aloe, charcoal, and hard leather polish.
She reached down to pet me, murmuring a greeting. Something fell free, sparkling at her throat. Ah, the silver snowflake. Her sleeves were touched with ballpoint and highlighter ink, foamy hand soap and chalk. Yukari often came home with chalky pine resin powder on her clothes; this was different, drier, like limestone.
She spoke to Akihiko. "We're back at the dorms. Now will you tell me why you were laughing back there?"
I discreetly pointed my snout at Mitsuru's crotch. Humans are a bit touchy about that area, for some reason. Polite as always, if a bit distracted today, she stood still for her daily check. I inhaled deeply of rainfall and an intriguing humid musk.
Akihiko craned his neck around the room. He rumbled his merriment. "Coast is clear. Consider their name."
I turned to greet Akihiko also, so he wouldn't feel left out. Akihiko usually possessed a good clean sweat. I leaned hard against his legs. He was pungent and salty and gritty like ocean tides and beach sand. Akihiko also carried hints of other people on him. He must have stopped by the boxing club today, if only for a moment. He reached down to scratch my back. I wiggled in delight.
Mitsuru crossed her arms under her breasts. "What about it?"
"Honeymoon donuts."
"Well, they're round like the moon. Maybe they're made with honey?"
Unlike Mitsuru, whose scents were more distinctly localized, Akihiko's smells tended to blend together into a complex whole. Most humans don't really notice these sorts of things. His dark school pants seemed ionized with spring water, his groin faintly peppery. Traces of yellow bar soap, old sweat-soaked canvas, clanging iron and slick concrete clung to him like invisible decorations.
"Take a closer look," Akihiko said. He undid the twist tie of a clear plastic bag and slid it down around a pillowy round object.
Sugar! Fresh oil! Chewable starches! The hole was a little piece of dough perforated along its edges. I smacked my lips and made tearful round eyes, hoping someone would notice.
"See? The center hasn't been"–-Akihiko thrust his finger through the center in a fluid motion—"poked out yet." A donut hole fell out. Akihiko flashed a Junpei-esque grin and popped the piece in his mouth. I watched his actions attentively.
Mitsuru dropped her schoolbag on the floor—no food in there—and stepped closer, grasping his hand as if mesmerized. She gazed at him with a half-smile on her face; he returned the smile, and I imagined my best case scenario: that someone would be clumsy enough to drop the open bag where I could snap up a sample.
Mitsuru parted her lips and licked Akihiko's fingers tentatively, like a little blind kitten, making an inarticulate hungry sound in her throat. Of course top dog gets first dibs, I thought. Oh please oh please oh please I'll take a crumb, I will. Her appealing rainfall scent had intensified. I snurfed with interest. She delicately cleaned Akihiko's hand of sugary bits, staring at him the entire time. I stared as hard as I could, too.
Akihiko had turned a radiant hue of warm pink. He seemed frozen, staring at Mitsuru-matriarch.
Akihiko-patriarch didn't seem to be aware of it, but his body was humming too. It was like a TV with the volume turned way down. Sometimes Junpei and Ken would fall asleep in front of the TV like that, especially after an all-night horror movie marathon. I snorted. If the alphas weren't going to eat the damn donut, I had a mind to bump them and remind them I was conveniently available—
"Oh, I get it." Mitsuru looked around quickly as she held his arm. She put her cheek next to Akihiko's, her lips barely touching his. He was breathing shallowly. "Not your shower," she said. Her voice was heated, sultry.
"No," he agreed. Akihiko slid his free hand underneath Mitsuru's winter school jacket. "I had to use yours for three days while it defrosted. Not that it was a bad thing—"
"Then where?"
"What about the rooftop? I'm glad that weather-making of yours mostly overwhelms my powers." His hand slipped down to grasp her wool-clad rear.
"Hmph. I'm glad we're the highest building around here. You won't be cold?" She had become a fetching tint of red as well.
"I expect I'll be somewhere warm enough." Akihiko rumbled deep in his chest, putting emphasis on the 'r's in "where" and "warm." But he didn't let go of the donut bag. I sighed.
"All right. I'll get a tarp, you get the blankets."
"Yes, Miss Kirijo."
Mitsuru-matriarch smelled increasingly sexy as she spoke to Akihiko-patriarch. She was a dizzying combination of delicious fresh abalone, a bitch in luscious heat, a spring downpour over mown grass and the promise of refreshing ice in a summer drink.
Akihiko's fragrance hinted of damp underbrush in deep forest and spicy peppercorns and lichen on rough tree bark and ozone during lightning storms—
I remembered fondly a French poodle and Norwegian Elkhound mix of my acquaintance. She had lived down the street from the shrine a year ago. Adelaide had been striking, not beautiful in the classic sense, but she carried herself well. She had been raised in Paris and her fragrance near-equaled Mitsuru-matriarch.
My tail, which often has a mind of its own, started thumping faster. It's perfectly natural that I licked myself in honor of her memory. Ah, youth.
One day, mi amour had invited me to play behind the trees, while our humans sat nearby talking to each other. She told me that she knew I had been admiring her from afar and—well, one thing led to another—let me just say she found me attractive as well. I regret that her humans moved to another city soon thereafter. C'est la vie, c'est la guerre, she had said with a Gallic shrug.
Enough of reverie. The matriarch and patriarch had gone ahead. Alas, I had been forgotten. I sauntered partway up the stairs to follow out of curiosity when the front doorknob rattled open.
Fuuka Yamagishi came through the door with a fir-green knapsack and two viridian tote bags full of groceries. A black laptop bag was strapped across her torso. The luggage made her look like a lumpy turtle. Her scent was mainly of cool moss, with an overlay of Conté crayon. I greeted her happily; she was starting to get the hang of cooking kibble, with Ken Amada's help. Only every other batch was ruined now.
Ken trailed behind her into the room. All I could see of him were two legs, and a third tote bag of groceries that he held in front of him. He smelled of pencil graphite and basketball rubber. I idly inspected the groceries he carried. A tub of miso, a bunch of leafy mizuna, a bag of mikan tangerines, metal tins—not anything that I could eat straightaway.
"Hi Koro-chan! We stopped by the store to get some of that canned food for you that you like so much," Fuuka said. Ah! Her lilting voice was music to my ears. I licked her face and Ken's, making sure they knew I appreciated their generosity. The lights above flickered, died, came back.
"Oh dear." Fuuka put her grocery bags down on the kitchen table. "Let's get some flashlights just in case, Ken-chan. Want to come along, Koro-chan?"
Ken split off to stop by his room on the second floor. I followed her to the third floor, where she switched on a small rubberized flashlight and allowed me to clamp my jaws around it. If the lights went out, I would be fine without, but I am always happy to be of assistance to humans who do not see as well in the dark as I.
My ears twitched. Two floors above, very faintly, I heard startlingly happy sounds. They were arousing in their joy, both male and female voices. Love does make everything better. Oh my.
I thought again of my Adelaide, and my ears drooped a little. I was truly happy for matriarch and patriarch, but feeling a little sorry for myself.
"Koro-chan, are you okay?" Fuuka petted me, getting just the right itchy spot under my collar. Her consideration cheered me, and I nuzzled her gratefully. We met Ken along the way, a gust of frosty air following us as we clumped down the stairs.
We left our flashlights nearby. Ken cracked open the metal tin of my food and gave it to me in a heavy blue bowl. Fuuka boiled water and launched an all-out whirlwind attack on the groceries. Ken pushed a high wooden chair to the laminate counter and sat next to her. I nosed into the aroma of juicy chicken, bone meal and nutty brown rice. The homey clatter of chopping and stir-frying enveloped us.
By then, Aigis and Junpei Iori had returned home. They stopped in the kitchen to visit. Junpei tried to sneak up on me, yelling "Boo!" from an arm's length away. I barked a hello at him. He cackled, poured some hot water for his instant ramen and headed upstairs. "Got a lot of studying to do tonight!" he declared, earning several unconvinced eyes in his direction. "After I take a meal break and all!"
"Maybe he met a nerdy girl in cram school," offered Ken.
"Did Mitsuru-senpai get him to go to cram school? That's amazing." Fuuka scooped something from a pan and tasted it. The gas stove clicked off. "Ken-chan, I think this is okay. What do you think?" I snuffled; it smelled like beef broccoli with carrots, and unburned this time.
Ken seemed to like it enough, as he accepted a bowl with rice. He settled at the kitchen table with a magazine, courageous child.
Aigis leaned towards me, the supple, subtle fragrance of her machine oil wafting in my direction. "I have already finished my homework. Would you like to go for a walk?" she inquired.It was just the thing to cap off a brilliant meal. I lolled my tongue and nodded. She retrieved my leash from a drawer under the counter. As she attached it to my collar, she cocked her head slightly. "Did you hear that, Koro-chan?"
I'm afraid I was too lost in the delight of a potential excursion to notice. Aigis petted me with understanding. In the meantime, Fuuka took her bowl and switched on the evening news broadcast. The weather report would be on right after the commercials. Once again, the lights flickered. I fancied a snowflake had been blown indoors.
We exited into the sharp, clear evening. A steady breeze swirled around us in the front portico. "Which way?" Aigis pointed in three different directions. I picked the direction of the shrine.
We were down the stairs and on the sidewalk when she and I, with our superior senses, heard a feminine scream of the most erotic nature. My mechanical friend had only enough time to utter, "Mitsu—?" before we were buried in an avalanche of fluffy powdered snow. Whuff.
We dug ourselves out of the pile, what fun! An immense thunderclap followed, a blinding flash bringing the entire neighborhood into sharp relief—chasing us back into the building, where I felt the irresistible need to rid myself all that chilly snow. I do regret shaking it off into the foyer, but it seemed necessary at the time.
Fuuka was looking at the windows behind us in astonishment. "The weather report said we'd have clear skies and sun for the rest of the week," she said. "Those weathermen are so rarely right. We'll have to dig ourselves out of here or wait for that snow to melt."
She refocused her wide, dark eyes on us. "Aigis? You might want to go stand in your shower and brush off the snow on your head."
That was when the power went out. We heard a manly shriek. Junpei came pounding down the stairs. "I nearly beat the final boss in Last Legend XXII on his seventh transformation!" he cried.
The power returned to life. "Aw hell," Junpei said. He stumped back up the stairs.
"I thought he was studying," Fuuka mumbled. Ken had come into the common room. He simply shrugged. Aigis' posture was perfectly straight. Not a crystal of snow dust had dislodged from her head or shoulders. Her cerulean eyes looked wordlessly up at the ceiling.
That was how Aigis and I began to suspect the truth behind the dorm's recently strange events. I have asked her not to speak of this to anyone. For whatever reason, I feel that Mitsuru-matriarch and Akihiko-patriarch wish to keep it their own personal secret.
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