Fic: Velveteen (Part 2/3)
Title: Velveteen (Part 2)
Fandom: Persona 3
Pairing: Mitsuru/Akihiko
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Risque themes, some language given that Shinji features in this chapter.
Word Count: 4,639
"…This isn't about going back?" Shinjiro's eyes and voice were both suspicious. Akihiko stayed where he was, deciding that it wouldn't be smart to close the distance yet. If he trusted sitting down, he would have. But by this time of the semester, the back streets were looking worse than usual. He didn't want to guess what some of the grime coating the steps and clinging to the edges of the concrete was made up of.
"Nah, nothing like that." Akihiko replied, trying to keep his own posture calm and easy going, to prove that this wasn't going to be one of those talks. "I just wanted to talk with you. Catch up on things."
The air thrummed as a train left the station above their meeting spot, screaming past overhead with a hiss and a rattle as it gained momentum. Shinji kept watching him, not phased by the noise or the wind the train stirred up. Akihiko tried to mimic that, keeping his gaze even and never fully looking away.
This was one of those tests he kept finding himself having to pass; seeing who would blink or break eye contact first. He'd figured out that the chances of Shinjj really listening to what he had to say only went down if he was the first one to falter. And today, he needed someone good at listening.
"Catch up on things, Aki?" Shinji tested the word, sounding doubtful and only looking more wary.
Akihiko found himself thinking of a time when they'd been a trio; himself, Miki, and Shinji. There'd been at least one occasion where they got to visit a zoo just outside the city, after the orphanage had saved up enough or gotten a nice chunk of money from a donation. He remembered how they'd watched one particularly restless tiger pace back and forth in its pen, and found himself wondering when Shinji and the tiger had switched places. There was a cautious glint in his friend's eyes, and even under that thick coat, Akihiko could see his shoulders tense and relax as he took in those words.
And all of that didn't bother him nearly as much as when Shinji's caution shifted into something else, and he gave Akihiko a knowing, smug smile.
"So you cut boxing club to 'catch up on things?' I can smell the bullshit all over that." Shinji chuckled as Akihiko's eyes flew wide open. "Don't give me that look. I know the schedule, even if I don't go."
Dammit, that wasn't fair. It was a lot harder to keep eye contact going when his friend had a smirk like that. Akihiko was still scrambling for words when Shinji shut his eyes and rolled his head back, taking in a deep breath. And ridiculously enough, under all that, Akihiko thought he could hear his friend's stomach give a hungry growl.
"Alright, Aki. Cut the crap, and tell me what this is really all about." When he heard that, Akihiko could finally let his breath out and also close his eyes. He also knew what to say by then, even his voice did feel a little shaky.
"…H-hagakure?" Akihiko managed. "I'll even let you treat me, in honor of cutting club."
He didn't even wince when Shinji punched him in the arm as he stood up.
o-o-o
At first, Shinjiro was surprised when Aki pulled him over to a side booth, instead of their usual spot at the counter. But as Aki started talking, he could see why.
Although the place was so loud, he doubted anyone would overhear unless Aki jumped onto the table and started yelling out every detail. Instead, his friend kept his head low as they put their orders in, his eyes having a hard time on whether they were going to focus on Shinji, or on the much stained and worn table.
Turned out that Gekkoukan's golden boy was right, though. This WASN'T some half assed plan to get him back into the summon-by-suicide club. It was just talking about what Kirijo's team had been doing. And why their last mission was causing Aki to study the patterns in the wood grain so carefully.
"So…That's how it turned out." Aki finished, shifting from looking at the table to the bowl in front of him. "I don't know what else happened between the Shadow and…And when we came to, and it's messing me up."
He looked like he was going to try to say something else, but then Shinji swallowed his ramen and decided Akihiko needed one of those pep talks he kept hearing about…Or enough poking and ribbing to light a fire under him, and get Aki to stop looking miserable and eat.
"Stop worrying about it, Aki. You didn't go any further then that." Shinjiro cut in before Aki could open his mouth again. He didn't bother with being anything other then blunt; that was the only thing that got through Aki's skull in the past.
"…What makes you so sure?" Aki only poked at the noodles in his bowl, not showing any sign of being hungry.
"Because you don’t have the balls to put moves on a girl, or ask one out. OR take advantage of one." Normally, Shinjiro didn't break off staring whenever Aki's ears went pink; it was too much fun to get a rise out of him and a shame to let it go to waste. But just then, he was starting to feel a little sorry for his old friend. Besides, the broth in his bowl was getting to slurping level and temperature.
He could hear Akihiko's voice go tight as he picked up the bowl, though. For a moment, he could also see why Aki wore those dumb gloves everywhere. They had to make holding a hot ramen bowl a lot easier.
"What makes you think that was even me? I would never-"
"Ogle the S.E.E.S Ice Queen? Must've been imagining a lot of those times you looked at her. You've been a team for…What, three years now? Four?" Time had been weird, after he left. And he wasn't going to dwell on it, just then. Not when Aki was still focused on being a stubborn ass.
"That's long enough for even you to notice." Shinjiro paused to take a gulp out of the ramen bowl. Even when he stretched things out by savoring the flavor, Aki didn't say anything.
Which clearly meant that more prodding was needed.
"Well, Aki? Do you not like her?" He looked over the bowl's rim and watched as Akihiko screwed his eyes shut, like he'd just swallowed something bitter and not flavored with Hagakure's secret spice. The bowl made a dull clunk as Shinji set it down, and ran his hand along his mouth to wipe away anything left.
"Yeah, you've got the hots for her, but you didn't take advantage of her because it's not you. So, you're still the same dull Aki, who still hasn't gotten laid." At least, it was the same dull Aki that glared at him. Shinjiro waited for the rejoinder…Only to be disappointed as the boxer slumped, and went back to looking at his bowl and chopsticks.
"Yeah, but…It's not just that. I still can't remember what…What I did."
He was starting to get irritated, the more Akihiko stammered and stared at his ramen bowl. Maybe because his own was empty, and Aki had barely touched his.
"Then think back on it, piece by piece, until you can remember. Hell, you're a preppy honor student now. Write it down, study it if you have to."
"It's just so…Embarrassing-" The bowls rattled when Shinjiro slammed a fist into the table.
"Fucking hell, Aki, stop pussyfooting around! When did you turn into such a wuss!?" Amazing how that was the only part of the conversation that made heads turn, and carried over all the noise in the bar.
"…Shinji?" Aki was looking between him and the other patrons with the beginnings of a nervous smile on his face. And damn if Shinjiro couldn't pick out a slight touch of smugness underneath that. "You know how I was saying I didn't want to draw atten-"
"…Shut up and eat your fucking ramen."
o-o-o
Mitsuru Kirijo did not procrastinate. She wouldn't be a valedictorian candidate, or capable of managing student council, S.E.E.S., and still be able to climb Tartarus at the end of the day if she didn't know her goals, and how to complete them all on time.
Repeating that to herself did not, however, make it any easier for her to justify why she hadn't approached Akihiko yet.
One part of her put in rational terms; they'd both been busy over the last day and today, with barely a minute to call their own. It only made sense that she hadn't been able to find him, or ask him about the night of the seventh. The other half of her mind was blunt, and made her face burn if she dwelled on the thought for too long; that speaking with Akihiko on what had happened between them was easier to plan for than to actually do.
"Get it through your head; we need better regulations then this." A voice sliced through her thoughts, pulling Mitsuru back to the present.
The student council room was dearly in need of an upgrade, she decided. A few fans stirring the air were not enough to keep the room from feeling stuffy, or from mugging up her focus and making it easier for her thoughts to drift. It also wasn't doing much to improve the attitudes of the students around her.
Tempers were starting to flare between the disciplinary and maintenance heads. Any other day, and she would have tried to steer their tempers in a different, more productive direction. But just then she was having trouble with simply focusing on the conversation. Her thoughts insisted on wandering back to meeting with Akihiko in the hallway, and how he failed to turn up until just before eleven last night.
She only knew he'd come back when the entry door creaked on its hinges, the way it always did when someone tried to sneak it open. (That was always why she never asked the administrators to fix it, despite numerous requests from the others.) And following that, she heard foot falls in the hallway below her, followed by one of the doors opening and clicking shut.
She'd planned on talking to him then, only to find herself pulling open another book instead, and trying to lose herself in it before falling into a fitful sleep. Her dreams had been full of odd sensations, and constantly interrupted as she jolted awake before dropping back into another hazy memory.
Hidetoshi stabbed his finger against the chalkboard to prove his point, cutting off those thoughts.
"You'll be putting a ban down on public affection next, Hidetoshi." Quite suddenly, those files seemed much more urgent then the debate. Mitsuru looked down at them, tucking the paper away with the sort of efficiency that only came from being single minded about a task, and trying very hard to let the conversation just slip past her.
"And would that really be such a bad thing?" She could hear the sneer in the disciplinary rep's voice. Her hands moved over to the textbooks next to the files, deciding that it would be good arrange them according to weight. "A little public control wouldn't go amiss. It might even cut down on reckless behavior. You've heard the rumors about that pair of students at Shirikawa…"
The words on the pages didn't form in her mind. She found herself looking between the letters, between the lines, and in the blank spaces she could see herself, reflected back in a mirror…
For a moment, she meets her reflection and sees her own eyes. She wonders if they've always looked so clouded, but that question is driven out of her mind as she takes in the rest of the mirror.
The muscles on Akihiko's back are laid out for her to look at. She watches her reflection as her hands run up his spine, and soon she realizes that she can feel her way along just by trailing over his skin.
When she buries her face in his shoulder, she can faintly taste salt as she presses her lips to his skin. It brings back a flare of memories; Akihiko boxing in the gym, in his room, not stopping until he's completely spent and drenched. This is how he's supposed to taste, she realizes. Hard work and sweat.
His muscles are tight under her hands, until she runs her fingers over them and rubs at his back and shoulders. Every muscle she touches is so tense…
She pauses as she thinks that, wondering why he's like this. But then he breathes against her neck, and she's more focused on loosening his muscles then wondering why she has to do so.
"But sir, is that really fair?" A quiet voice piped up. "Those two had to be hospitalized after getting Apathy Syndrome. Miss Kirijo, don't you think that-"
Mitsuru held up her hand to cut off whoever was speaking, and didn't bother trying to find the person. Instead she fixed the two debaters with a disapproving look, and held it until they broke off their argument.
"What I think is that people's anxiety over tests, and the heat, is getting the best of everyone. I suggest holding off on anymore meetings until after exams, once people have given their heads time to cool." She didn't think that she would be able to handle another debate induced flashback very easily, either. When she stood up, that sealed the matter; there was barely a murmur of protest as she collected her books, and left before her heartbeat completely muffled her hearing.
o-o-o
Akihiko had a hard time thinking of another time where a sheet of paper and pen had given him so much grief. Hell, entrance exams were starting to feel like they'd be a cakewalk, compared to grilling himself over this.
"…Why did I listen to him?" He asked his desk, looking away from his pen pad for a moment. "It's not like he ever had girl problems."
'No,' a small voice in his head reminded him. 'He just knows you well enough that he doesn't NEED to have experience with girls.' Akihiko bit off a groan as that thought bubbled up. At this point, he felt ready to deal with the parade of girls that lurked outside the gym, instead of anything involving Mitsuru and bed sheets. Those, at least, he had practice with. But here…
In the past, his room was where he went for privacy and some peace of mind. But as Akihiko sat at his desk and tried to write out what all he could remember, it held nothing but distractions. His eyes drifted away from scribbled half recalled memories to rest on his equipment, and stayed fixed on the punching bag.
He mentally yelled at himself as he pushed the chair back, stood up, and walked over to it before settling into his usual stance. The moves weren't as flurried as they were yesterday in club; partially because he'd already worked out a lot of his nervous energy, but also because he didn't want a repeat with his shoulder.
Once his arms started to burn, he left the bag swinging and turned back to his desk. He looked back down at the notepad, wincing as he compared the distractions to his progress. That made four punching bag exercises, compared to two lines of words.
For a moment, he just glared at the ink and paper, like he could intimidate them into showing him more. But finally, he gave a defeated sigh before scooping up the pen and notes and heading to the lobby. Less privacy, but also less distractions that way. When he reached the common room, the only thing he could do to hold off writing was to open the windows to let some air in. Then all that was left was to sink into his usual spot on the couch, and see if he couldn't knock something out of his head.
Akihiko had a moment of pride when he wrote down another line, up until he re-read it and felt his stomach and heart give another lurch at what he read. Amazing how 'touch' and 'Mitsuru' made his face burn when they were in the same sentence, and his shoulders bunch up on their own from the blurry images those words brought up.
Shinji's ribbing from earlier didn't help. It wasn't just Mitsuru's touch that came to mind as he tried to stretch his thoughts back, but how good it felt, and how much he enjoyed it…
The notebook hit the table with a slam. It even made him flinch, and as stillness settled back over the dorm, Akihiko had a moment to be very grateful the others were still out.
"This isn't working…" He groaned to himself, burying his face in his hands. He felt his thoughts go back to swimming in slower and slower circles, like that outburst had burned up the rest of his energy.
An hour of picking through his mind (and flinching back from what he found) left his mind shot and his eyelids heavy. Akihiko sank back against the arm of the couch, and blinked up at the lights. His feet felt too heavy to stand on, and the curtains and light switches felt like they were miles away.
The notebook got a cautious look, before he reached out to snatch it off the table. He held it up and thumbed at the pages until he hit a blank set. It wasn't quite as good as a magazine, but it would work. And when he put it over his eyes, Akihiko was tired enough that he couldn't tell the difference. He already told himself that he'd only give his eyes and head five minutes.
o-o-o
An empty lobby greeted Mitsuru when she stepped inside, much to her relief. Mitsuru let the door swing shut behind her, with the familiar squeak of hinges and dull click as the handle set. She pocketed her motorcycle keys, while still taking in the empty room.
Until a groan and mumble from the nearest couch showed Mitsuru that it wasn't quite as empty as she expected. Even though her nerves were still stretched from the council meeting, she managed to not jump. Instead, she moved forward on quiet feet to peer over the back of the couch, and see who was resting there.
A familiar shock of white hair greeted her, with a red vest to match. Mitsuru only hovered over him for a moment, before she felt a smile curl along her face when she saw the notebook over his eyes. She stayed silent as she moved around him to take a seat on one of the armchairs.
Akihiko remained oblivious through it, his chest still rising and falling, with the note pages rustling a little as he breathed. He only made a small mumbling sound, before rolling onto his side.
'He used to not be able to do that without worrying about his ribs.' She thought as she watched. Her mind slipped back, wondering how many Sundays they both spent in the lobby like this. She'd always warned him about overexerting himself, and with a little bit of grumbling and sulking, he'd always agree to take it easy on their days off. That time had been oddly satisfying; even if neither of them exchanged many words, either because he was sleeping or she was reading, it made for good company.
Akihiko was talking in his sleep again, squirming restlessly on the couch. The book fell off his face, and she let it tumble on the ground, paying more attention to him. He'd been-
No, that was false. They'd both been adamant about not showing their faces, or really looking at each other, for too many days. At the moment his face had a pinched expression on, and Akihiko continued to mutter as he twisted deeper into the couch cushions.
Mitsuru slid up from the chair and started to move over to him, wondering if there was some way to make him rest easier. Or failing that, waking him up from whatever was hounding him in his sleep. She'd only managed three steps when her boot pressed against something that crinkled and rustled under her step. When she kneeled down, her fingers wrapped around paper and felt fresh ink on some of the pages. She switched it between hands, and brought it up to her eyes, showing her that it was the notebook from Akihiko's face.
The pages were covered in his handwriting as well. Most of the words were written in a thick, heavy hand. The letters were practically pushed into the paper out of frustration.
'Woke up next to Mitsuru. Don't know how I got there.' The next line picked up the thought, with some of the words scribbled out. 'Something almost made me take advantage of her. Don't know why or how, but it felt like desire-
Lust. An impulse….' The words went on, getting more and more scrawled. Her eyes scanned over them, and Mitsuru could feel her heart pound in her ears as she read.
Akihiko chose that moment to almost fall off the couch with a muffled groan, and hung at the edge with one foot dangling off. Mitsuru let her hand and the notes fall to her side, and gently placed her other on Akihiko's shoulder.
"Akihiko…Wake up. Please, I need to talk to you."
o-o-o
His dreams don't bring relief. He can't escape those hazy phantom thoughts, even after trying to exorcise them onto paper. Only instead of looking at words, he finds himself staring at Mitsuru. And at her hair and her skin, which his fingers can't get enough of.
His hands can't find one spot to rest at. They trail everywhere over her body once she shrugs out of her blouse. One traces the line of her spine going down her back, the other strokes at her hair. Then suddenly they're tumbling, and he finds her doing the same to him. One moment she's rubbing at his back, easing out whatever exhaustion is in his muscles, and then her hands are running through his hair.
There's still a nervous, anxious voice buzzing away in his head. He can't swat it out completely, and listening to it for too long makes an uneasy feeling rise up and quiver in his heart, and makes it pound from something other then eagerness.
She's whispering something into his ear, and in a moment he makes out his name.
"Akihiko…" Then there's hands on his shoulders, first resting on them, and then giving them a hard shake.
"Akihiko!" The shaking gets worse, making him wobble. He stares at her, confused at how insistent she sounds.
"Akihiko, wake up."
Akihiko's eyes were slow to open, and at first he only had room in his mind for confusion. Gradually, his thoughts started to shove themselves into order, starting with wondering where his notebook had gone, and how long he'd been out. Those in turn scrambled out of the way when he realized that Mitsuru was still hovering in front of him. His fingers tightened around a couch cushion instead of bed sheets, telling him that he wasn't still asleep.
"Mitsuru?" It took all his effort to keep that name steady.
"It looked like you were having a bad dream." He could see how her eyebrows were slightly knitted together, and that faint downturn of her lips; signs that Mitsuru was concerned, which gave him a strange, pulling feeling deep in his chest. It didn't help that having her so close was making his heart pound faster.
"Y-yeah, well, something like that." He inched himself back until he was sitting up. Mitsuru took that as a sign to step away, but to his surprise (and just a bit of unease) she didn't excuse herself.
So, he took it up on himself to do that instead. He swung his feet off the couch and started to stand.
"Thanks for that. I wasn't planning to sleep for so long, and-" The words were cut off when he saw where his notebook was, and he had to tear his eyes away from her hands to look at her face. "That's…" He trailed off, not sure how to ask for it.
"Yours. I know." There was an odd note in her voice as she said that, almost guilty. Which might have meant-
Hell. It did mean that. He could see that it was opened to where he'd written and crossed out things that he was not proud of.
"I apologize if I invaded your privacy," 'Actually,' that voice in the back of his mind said, 'it was more like you hit the curl up and die switch in the privacy section.' He started to wonder if it wasn't possible to sink in between the couch cushions and out of sight, or have a stray earthquake suddenly open a hole in the dorm he could fall into.
"However…I cannot help but be grateful I saw it." A jolt rocked through him when he heard that, and it was enough to shock any embarrassment out of him. Mitsuru didn't comment on how his mouth hung open from it, though. Instead, she kept her eyes on him as she continued. "I've been wondering about the same things, and wanted to know more."
"Y-you have? Why?" His knees relaxed as he asked that, putting him back on the couch (which stayed solid, despite what he was still wishing for) and looking up at Mitsuru. She kept standing, and for a moment he wanted to offer her a seat next to him. That only lasted until he was reminded just how uncomfortable that would be.
"It's because…I have to confess, my memory isn't clear on what happened. When I try to think back on it, I can only get bits and pieces, if that." As she kept talking, he couldn't help but notice how flustered she seemed. Her posture was just different and stiff enough to show that. When he realized that, he also understood why she'd seemed so different in the hallway. And, he also started to realize why there was a faint tug on his heart whenever he saw her like that.
"It's the same for me," he made himself say that out loud, and tried to hold her face in his sight, despite the loops his stomach started to make. "I was trying to remember with that, but it wasn't doing anything for me." He was glad when she didn't press by asking why.
"I don't know how to remember, but…I keep feeling like it's just on the edge of my mind, and I don't know how to grab it." He would've gone on, but something in Mitsuru's face made him pause.
"I know that look." He said, his own eyes narrowing to match hers. He could already recognize that telltale glint building up behind her eyes. "You've got something on your mind. What is it?"
"Akihiko, do you have any plans for tonight?" She asked instead, and only gave him space to blink before giving him another look, and this one demanded an answer.
"N…No. Why?" He stared at the hand suddenly in front of his face, waiting for him to take it.
"Then in that case, I'd like you to accompany me." She saw the question on his face, and continued. "To Shirikawa Boulevard. I hate leaving things unfinished or unresolved, and we have business there that needs to be completed."
Fandom: Persona 3
Pairing: Mitsuru/Akihiko
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Risque themes, some language given that Shinji features in this chapter.
Word Count: 4,639
"…This isn't about going back?" Shinjiro's eyes and voice were both suspicious. Akihiko stayed where he was, deciding that it wouldn't be smart to close the distance yet. If he trusted sitting down, he would have. But by this time of the semester, the back streets were looking worse than usual. He didn't want to guess what some of the grime coating the steps and clinging to the edges of the concrete was made up of.
"Nah, nothing like that." Akihiko replied, trying to keep his own posture calm and easy going, to prove that this wasn't going to be one of those talks. "I just wanted to talk with you. Catch up on things."
The air thrummed as a train left the station above their meeting spot, screaming past overhead with a hiss and a rattle as it gained momentum. Shinji kept watching him, not phased by the noise or the wind the train stirred up. Akihiko tried to mimic that, keeping his gaze even and never fully looking away.
This was one of those tests he kept finding himself having to pass; seeing who would blink or break eye contact first. He'd figured out that the chances of Shinjj really listening to what he had to say only went down if he was the first one to falter. And today, he needed someone good at listening.
"Catch up on things, Aki?" Shinji tested the word, sounding doubtful and only looking more wary.
Akihiko found himself thinking of a time when they'd been a trio; himself, Miki, and Shinji. There'd been at least one occasion where they got to visit a zoo just outside the city, after the orphanage had saved up enough or gotten a nice chunk of money from a donation. He remembered how they'd watched one particularly restless tiger pace back and forth in its pen, and found himself wondering when Shinji and the tiger had switched places. There was a cautious glint in his friend's eyes, and even under that thick coat, Akihiko could see his shoulders tense and relax as he took in those words.
And all of that didn't bother him nearly as much as when Shinji's caution shifted into something else, and he gave Akihiko a knowing, smug smile.
"So you cut boxing club to 'catch up on things?' I can smell the bullshit all over that." Shinji chuckled as Akihiko's eyes flew wide open. "Don't give me that look. I know the schedule, even if I don't go."
Dammit, that wasn't fair. It was a lot harder to keep eye contact going when his friend had a smirk like that. Akihiko was still scrambling for words when Shinji shut his eyes and rolled his head back, taking in a deep breath. And ridiculously enough, under all that, Akihiko thought he could hear his friend's stomach give a hungry growl.
"Alright, Aki. Cut the crap, and tell me what this is really all about." When he heard that, Akihiko could finally let his breath out and also close his eyes. He also knew what to say by then, even his voice did feel a little shaky.
"…H-hagakure?" Akihiko managed. "I'll even let you treat me, in honor of cutting club."
He didn't even wince when Shinji punched him in the arm as he stood up.
o-o-o
At first, Shinjiro was surprised when Aki pulled him over to a side booth, instead of their usual spot at the counter. But as Aki started talking, he could see why.
Although the place was so loud, he doubted anyone would overhear unless Aki jumped onto the table and started yelling out every detail. Instead, his friend kept his head low as they put their orders in, his eyes having a hard time on whether they were going to focus on Shinji, or on the much stained and worn table.
Turned out that Gekkoukan's golden boy was right, though. This WASN'T some half assed plan to get him back into the summon-by-suicide club. It was just talking about what Kirijo's team had been doing. And why their last mission was causing Aki to study the patterns in the wood grain so carefully.
"So…That's how it turned out." Aki finished, shifting from looking at the table to the bowl in front of him. "I don't know what else happened between the Shadow and…And when we came to, and it's messing me up."
He looked like he was going to try to say something else, but then Shinji swallowed his ramen and decided Akihiko needed one of those pep talks he kept hearing about…Or enough poking and ribbing to light a fire under him, and get Aki to stop looking miserable and eat.
"Stop worrying about it, Aki. You didn't go any further then that." Shinjiro cut in before Aki could open his mouth again. He didn't bother with being anything other then blunt; that was the only thing that got through Aki's skull in the past.
"…What makes you so sure?" Aki only poked at the noodles in his bowl, not showing any sign of being hungry.
"Because you don’t have the balls to put moves on a girl, or ask one out. OR take advantage of one." Normally, Shinjiro didn't break off staring whenever Aki's ears went pink; it was too much fun to get a rise out of him and a shame to let it go to waste. But just then, he was starting to feel a little sorry for his old friend. Besides, the broth in his bowl was getting to slurping level and temperature.
He could hear Akihiko's voice go tight as he picked up the bowl, though. For a moment, he could also see why Aki wore those dumb gloves everywhere. They had to make holding a hot ramen bowl a lot easier.
"What makes you think that was even me? I would never-"
"Ogle the S.E.E.S Ice Queen? Must've been imagining a lot of those times you looked at her. You've been a team for…What, three years now? Four?" Time had been weird, after he left. And he wasn't going to dwell on it, just then. Not when Aki was still focused on being a stubborn ass.
"That's long enough for even you to notice." Shinjiro paused to take a gulp out of the ramen bowl. Even when he stretched things out by savoring the flavor, Aki didn't say anything.
Which clearly meant that more prodding was needed.
"Well, Aki? Do you not like her?" He looked over the bowl's rim and watched as Akihiko screwed his eyes shut, like he'd just swallowed something bitter and not flavored with Hagakure's secret spice. The bowl made a dull clunk as Shinji set it down, and ran his hand along his mouth to wipe away anything left.
"Yeah, you've got the hots for her, but you didn't take advantage of her because it's not you. So, you're still the same dull Aki, who still hasn't gotten laid." At least, it was the same dull Aki that glared at him. Shinjiro waited for the rejoinder…Only to be disappointed as the boxer slumped, and went back to looking at his bowl and chopsticks.
"Yeah, but…It's not just that. I still can't remember what…What I did."
He was starting to get irritated, the more Akihiko stammered and stared at his ramen bowl. Maybe because his own was empty, and Aki had barely touched his.
"Then think back on it, piece by piece, until you can remember. Hell, you're a preppy honor student now. Write it down, study it if you have to."
"It's just so…Embarrassing-" The bowls rattled when Shinjiro slammed a fist into the table.
"Fucking hell, Aki, stop pussyfooting around! When did you turn into such a wuss!?" Amazing how that was the only part of the conversation that made heads turn, and carried over all the noise in the bar.
"…Shinji?" Aki was looking between him and the other patrons with the beginnings of a nervous smile on his face. And damn if Shinjiro couldn't pick out a slight touch of smugness underneath that. "You know how I was saying I didn't want to draw atten-"
"…Shut up and eat your fucking ramen."
o-o-o
Mitsuru Kirijo did not procrastinate. She wouldn't be a valedictorian candidate, or capable of managing student council, S.E.E.S., and still be able to climb Tartarus at the end of the day if she didn't know her goals, and how to complete them all on time.
Repeating that to herself did not, however, make it any easier for her to justify why she hadn't approached Akihiko yet.
One part of her put in rational terms; they'd both been busy over the last day and today, with barely a minute to call their own. It only made sense that she hadn't been able to find him, or ask him about the night of the seventh. The other half of her mind was blunt, and made her face burn if she dwelled on the thought for too long; that speaking with Akihiko on what had happened between them was easier to plan for than to actually do.
"Get it through your head; we need better regulations then this." A voice sliced through her thoughts, pulling Mitsuru back to the present.
The student council room was dearly in need of an upgrade, she decided. A few fans stirring the air were not enough to keep the room from feeling stuffy, or from mugging up her focus and making it easier for her thoughts to drift. It also wasn't doing much to improve the attitudes of the students around her.
Tempers were starting to flare between the disciplinary and maintenance heads. Any other day, and she would have tried to steer their tempers in a different, more productive direction. But just then she was having trouble with simply focusing on the conversation. Her thoughts insisted on wandering back to meeting with Akihiko in the hallway, and how he failed to turn up until just before eleven last night.
She only knew he'd come back when the entry door creaked on its hinges, the way it always did when someone tried to sneak it open. (That was always why she never asked the administrators to fix it, despite numerous requests from the others.) And following that, she heard foot falls in the hallway below her, followed by one of the doors opening and clicking shut.
She'd planned on talking to him then, only to find herself pulling open another book instead, and trying to lose herself in it before falling into a fitful sleep. Her dreams had been full of odd sensations, and constantly interrupted as she jolted awake before dropping back into another hazy memory.
Hidetoshi stabbed his finger against the chalkboard to prove his point, cutting off those thoughts.
"You'll be putting a ban down on public affection next, Hidetoshi." Quite suddenly, those files seemed much more urgent then the debate. Mitsuru looked down at them, tucking the paper away with the sort of efficiency that only came from being single minded about a task, and trying very hard to let the conversation just slip past her.
"And would that really be such a bad thing?" She could hear the sneer in the disciplinary rep's voice. Her hands moved over to the textbooks next to the files, deciding that it would be good arrange them according to weight. "A little public control wouldn't go amiss. It might even cut down on reckless behavior. You've heard the rumors about that pair of students at Shirikawa…"
The words on the pages didn't form in her mind. She found herself looking between the letters, between the lines, and in the blank spaces she could see herself, reflected back in a mirror…
For a moment, she meets her reflection and sees her own eyes. She wonders if they've always looked so clouded, but that question is driven out of her mind as she takes in the rest of the mirror.
The muscles on Akihiko's back are laid out for her to look at. She watches her reflection as her hands run up his spine, and soon she realizes that she can feel her way along just by trailing over his skin.
When she buries her face in his shoulder, she can faintly taste salt as she presses her lips to his skin. It brings back a flare of memories; Akihiko boxing in the gym, in his room, not stopping until he's completely spent and drenched. This is how he's supposed to taste, she realizes. Hard work and sweat.
His muscles are tight under her hands, until she runs her fingers over them and rubs at his back and shoulders. Every muscle she touches is so tense…
She pauses as she thinks that, wondering why he's like this. But then he breathes against her neck, and she's more focused on loosening his muscles then wondering why she has to do so.
"But sir, is that really fair?" A quiet voice piped up. "Those two had to be hospitalized after getting Apathy Syndrome. Miss Kirijo, don't you think that-"
Mitsuru held up her hand to cut off whoever was speaking, and didn't bother trying to find the person. Instead she fixed the two debaters with a disapproving look, and held it until they broke off their argument.
"What I think is that people's anxiety over tests, and the heat, is getting the best of everyone. I suggest holding off on anymore meetings until after exams, once people have given their heads time to cool." She didn't think that she would be able to handle another debate induced flashback very easily, either. When she stood up, that sealed the matter; there was barely a murmur of protest as she collected her books, and left before her heartbeat completely muffled her hearing.
o-o-o
Akihiko had a hard time thinking of another time where a sheet of paper and pen had given him so much grief. Hell, entrance exams were starting to feel like they'd be a cakewalk, compared to grilling himself over this.
"…Why did I listen to him?" He asked his desk, looking away from his pen pad for a moment. "It's not like he ever had girl problems."
'No,' a small voice in his head reminded him. 'He just knows you well enough that he doesn't NEED to have experience with girls.' Akihiko bit off a groan as that thought bubbled up. At this point, he felt ready to deal with the parade of girls that lurked outside the gym, instead of anything involving Mitsuru and bed sheets. Those, at least, he had practice with. But here…
In the past, his room was where he went for privacy and some peace of mind. But as Akihiko sat at his desk and tried to write out what all he could remember, it held nothing but distractions. His eyes drifted away from scribbled half recalled memories to rest on his equipment, and stayed fixed on the punching bag.
He mentally yelled at himself as he pushed the chair back, stood up, and walked over to it before settling into his usual stance. The moves weren't as flurried as they were yesterday in club; partially because he'd already worked out a lot of his nervous energy, but also because he didn't want a repeat with his shoulder.
Once his arms started to burn, he left the bag swinging and turned back to his desk. He looked back down at the notepad, wincing as he compared the distractions to his progress. That made four punching bag exercises, compared to two lines of words.
For a moment, he just glared at the ink and paper, like he could intimidate them into showing him more. But finally, he gave a defeated sigh before scooping up the pen and notes and heading to the lobby. Less privacy, but also less distractions that way. When he reached the common room, the only thing he could do to hold off writing was to open the windows to let some air in. Then all that was left was to sink into his usual spot on the couch, and see if he couldn't knock something out of his head.
Akihiko had a moment of pride when he wrote down another line, up until he re-read it and felt his stomach and heart give another lurch at what he read. Amazing how 'touch' and 'Mitsuru' made his face burn when they were in the same sentence, and his shoulders bunch up on their own from the blurry images those words brought up.
Shinji's ribbing from earlier didn't help. It wasn't just Mitsuru's touch that came to mind as he tried to stretch his thoughts back, but how good it felt, and how much he enjoyed it…
The notebook hit the table with a slam. It even made him flinch, and as stillness settled back over the dorm, Akihiko had a moment to be very grateful the others were still out.
"This isn't working…" He groaned to himself, burying his face in his hands. He felt his thoughts go back to swimming in slower and slower circles, like that outburst had burned up the rest of his energy.
An hour of picking through his mind (and flinching back from what he found) left his mind shot and his eyelids heavy. Akihiko sank back against the arm of the couch, and blinked up at the lights. His feet felt too heavy to stand on, and the curtains and light switches felt like they were miles away.
The notebook got a cautious look, before he reached out to snatch it off the table. He held it up and thumbed at the pages until he hit a blank set. It wasn't quite as good as a magazine, but it would work. And when he put it over his eyes, Akihiko was tired enough that he couldn't tell the difference. He already told himself that he'd only give his eyes and head five minutes.
o-o-o
An empty lobby greeted Mitsuru when she stepped inside, much to her relief. Mitsuru let the door swing shut behind her, with the familiar squeak of hinges and dull click as the handle set. She pocketed her motorcycle keys, while still taking in the empty room.
Until a groan and mumble from the nearest couch showed Mitsuru that it wasn't quite as empty as she expected. Even though her nerves were still stretched from the council meeting, she managed to not jump. Instead, she moved forward on quiet feet to peer over the back of the couch, and see who was resting there.
A familiar shock of white hair greeted her, with a red vest to match. Mitsuru only hovered over him for a moment, before she felt a smile curl along her face when she saw the notebook over his eyes. She stayed silent as she moved around him to take a seat on one of the armchairs.
Akihiko remained oblivious through it, his chest still rising and falling, with the note pages rustling a little as he breathed. He only made a small mumbling sound, before rolling onto his side.
'He used to not be able to do that without worrying about his ribs.' She thought as she watched. Her mind slipped back, wondering how many Sundays they both spent in the lobby like this. She'd always warned him about overexerting himself, and with a little bit of grumbling and sulking, he'd always agree to take it easy on their days off. That time had been oddly satisfying; even if neither of them exchanged many words, either because he was sleeping or she was reading, it made for good company.
Akihiko was talking in his sleep again, squirming restlessly on the couch. The book fell off his face, and she let it tumble on the ground, paying more attention to him. He'd been-
No, that was false. They'd both been adamant about not showing their faces, or really looking at each other, for too many days. At the moment his face had a pinched expression on, and Akihiko continued to mutter as he twisted deeper into the couch cushions.
Mitsuru slid up from the chair and started to move over to him, wondering if there was some way to make him rest easier. Or failing that, waking him up from whatever was hounding him in his sleep. She'd only managed three steps when her boot pressed against something that crinkled and rustled under her step. When she kneeled down, her fingers wrapped around paper and felt fresh ink on some of the pages. She switched it between hands, and brought it up to her eyes, showing her that it was the notebook from Akihiko's face.
The pages were covered in his handwriting as well. Most of the words were written in a thick, heavy hand. The letters were practically pushed into the paper out of frustration.
'Woke up next to Mitsuru. Don't know how I got there.' The next line picked up the thought, with some of the words scribbled out. 'Something almost made me take advantage of her. Don't know why or how, but it felt like desire-
Lust. An impulse….' The words went on, getting more and more scrawled. Her eyes scanned over them, and Mitsuru could feel her heart pound in her ears as she read.
Akihiko chose that moment to almost fall off the couch with a muffled groan, and hung at the edge with one foot dangling off. Mitsuru let her hand and the notes fall to her side, and gently placed her other on Akihiko's shoulder.
"Akihiko…Wake up. Please, I need to talk to you."
o-o-o
His dreams don't bring relief. He can't escape those hazy phantom thoughts, even after trying to exorcise them onto paper. Only instead of looking at words, he finds himself staring at Mitsuru. And at her hair and her skin, which his fingers can't get enough of.
His hands can't find one spot to rest at. They trail everywhere over her body once she shrugs out of her blouse. One traces the line of her spine going down her back, the other strokes at her hair. Then suddenly they're tumbling, and he finds her doing the same to him. One moment she's rubbing at his back, easing out whatever exhaustion is in his muscles, and then her hands are running through his hair.
There's still a nervous, anxious voice buzzing away in his head. He can't swat it out completely, and listening to it for too long makes an uneasy feeling rise up and quiver in his heart, and makes it pound from something other then eagerness.
She's whispering something into his ear, and in a moment he makes out his name.
"Akihiko…" Then there's hands on his shoulders, first resting on them, and then giving them a hard shake.
"Akihiko!" The shaking gets worse, making him wobble. He stares at her, confused at how insistent she sounds.
"Akihiko, wake up."
Akihiko's eyes were slow to open, and at first he only had room in his mind for confusion. Gradually, his thoughts started to shove themselves into order, starting with wondering where his notebook had gone, and how long he'd been out. Those in turn scrambled out of the way when he realized that Mitsuru was still hovering in front of him. His fingers tightened around a couch cushion instead of bed sheets, telling him that he wasn't still asleep.
"Mitsuru?" It took all his effort to keep that name steady.
"It looked like you were having a bad dream." He could see how her eyebrows were slightly knitted together, and that faint downturn of her lips; signs that Mitsuru was concerned, which gave him a strange, pulling feeling deep in his chest. It didn't help that having her so close was making his heart pound faster.
"Y-yeah, well, something like that." He inched himself back until he was sitting up. Mitsuru took that as a sign to step away, but to his surprise (and just a bit of unease) she didn't excuse herself.
So, he took it up on himself to do that instead. He swung his feet off the couch and started to stand.
"Thanks for that. I wasn't planning to sleep for so long, and-" The words were cut off when he saw where his notebook was, and he had to tear his eyes away from her hands to look at her face. "That's…" He trailed off, not sure how to ask for it.
"Yours. I know." There was an odd note in her voice as she said that, almost guilty. Which might have meant-
Hell. It did mean that. He could see that it was opened to where he'd written and crossed out things that he was not proud of.
"I apologize if I invaded your privacy," 'Actually,' that voice in the back of his mind said, 'it was more like you hit the curl up and die switch in the privacy section.' He started to wonder if it wasn't possible to sink in between the couch cushions and out of sight, or have a stray earthquake suddenly open a hole in the dorm he could fall into.
"However…I cannot help but be grateful I saw it." A jolt rocked through him when he heard that, and it was enough to shock any embarrassment out of him. Mitsuru didn't comment on how his mouth hung open from it, though. Instead, she kept her eyes on him as she continued. "I've been wondering about the same things, and wanted to know more."
"Y-you have? Why?" His knees relaxed as he asked that, putting him back on the couch (which stayed solid, despite what he was still wishing for) and looking up at Mitsuru. She kept standing, and for a moment he wanted to offer her a seat next to him. That only lasted until he was reminded just how uncomfortable that would be.
"It's because…I have to confess, my memory isn't clear on what happened. When I try to think back on it, I can only get bits and pieces, if that." As she kept talking, he couldn't help but notice how flustered she seemed. Her posture was just different and stiff enough to show that. When he realized that, he also understood why she'd seemed so different in the hallway. And, he also started to realize why there was a faint tug on his heart whenever he saw her like that.
"It's the same for me," he made himself say that out loud, and tried to hold her face in his sight, despite the loops his stomach started to make. "I was trying to remember with that, but it wasn't doing anything for me." He was glad when she didn't press by asking why.
"I don't know how to remember, but…I keep feeling like it's just on the edge of my mind, and I don't know how to grab it." He would've gone on, but something in Mitsuru's face made him pause.
"I know that look." He said, his own eyes narrowing to match hers. He could already recognize that telltale glint building up behind her eyes. "You've got something on your mind. What is it?"
"Akihiko, do you have any plans for tonight?" She asked instead, and only gave him space to blink before giving him another look, and this one demanded an answer.
"N…No. Why?" He stared at the hand suddenly in front of his face, waiting for him to take it.
"Then in that case, I'd like you to accompany me." She saw the question on his face, and continued. "To Shirikawa Boulevard. I hate leaving things unfinished or unresolved, and we have business there that needs to be completed."