one low blow - shinji/aki - 1/1
Fandom: Persona 3
Character/s or Pairing: Aki/Shinji
Prompt: 05. skin / sense of touch
Title: One Low Blow
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Disclaimers: i own a copy of the game but i don't own them.
Summary: But in this case, he wanted to keep Shinjiro from bleeding out - and selfishly foremost, from doing exactly that on his bedsheets.
A/N: I don't write about them a lot... but I adore them.
Word Count: 1,966
Akihiko spent a majority of his time begging Shinji to come back to S.E.E.S. because he thought that the group as a whole needed it. Never had he heard anyone - even Mitsuru - be so determined to work him back in. It wasn't that he wasn't a great help to them; Akihiko just hadn't realized what his intentions were.
He just wanted Shinji. They could do without him, but he could not. And this situation gave him the best excuse imaginable to get on his knees and beg him to come back without seeming to effeminate. And Ken was the leverage that Shinji needed. It was almost like the universe offered him the best possible solution before he'd even realized how much of a problem it was.
Three nights into his stay at the dorm, Aki found himself awakened by his bedroom door opening. His eyes opened as an amber light faded out of his room; the timely departure of The Dark Hour made it difficult for him to work out the facial features of the figure approaching his bed.
The stature gave it away; Shinji wordlessly sat on Akihiko's desk chair, making eye contact with the floor instead of the half naked boy who lived in the room he'd so rudely broken into.
"Shinji?" His voice was coarse, and made him sound a little angry. No response. "I'm sorry - why are you here?"
"You begged me to move in." Touche, but Shinjiro wasn't that dense.
"Wrong here. Why are you in my room?" Shinji pushed himself up off his headboard. Natural moonlight filtered through his blinds and onto pale skin. It seemed odd to him; the type of night he was used to was the odd-tinted dark hour; honest moon-lit night seemed so unnatural to him.
Shinjiro didn't answer, and Akihiko found that there was a certain amount of sleep that someone needed before they could deal with such frustrating bullshit.
"I'm tired and it's the middle of the night. I hardly get enough sleep as it is, so if you could please hurry this up - "
"I'll go." Shinji hurried across the room, but the speed gave away his limp. Akihiko sighed; this was not the first time this had happened.
"Let me see the damage."
No questions. They both had their own reasons for venturing off to Tartarus on their own. Shinji had never asked him about his reasons, so Akihiko figured it was only polite to leave him to his own devices. But Shinjiro had a habit of crawling to Akihiko regardless of the time, so long as he was injured. Respectively, it had been a long time; a few years ago, all Akihiko could figure to do was to kiss it and hope he felt better in the morning. He'd learned his fair share about first aid over the years.
Shinjiro didn't seemed so happy to show off his badge of honor. Akihiko considered climbing out of bed and approaching him, but the hardwood floor beneath bare feet wasn't something he was willing to put himself through. Shinjiro reluctantly crossed the room, this time sat on his bed. From here, he made no motion to show Akihiko the injury. Akihiko made the mistake of reaching forward; Shinjiro's defensive hands pushed him away with a force that Akihiko had forgotten he contained. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to remember how to will Shinjiro into doing something he didn't want to do.
And then with a lapse of good judgment
There was a sense of pride in showing off these types of injuries; they weren't senseless (perhaps Mitsuru or Yukari might disagree) wounds. At least they were fighting for something; and Shinji didn't just come crying at a wound only flesh deep. No, Shinji meant business when he asked for help.
And dramatic effect, being as it may, went for the element of surprise. Shinjiro ripped up the pantleg before what he was doing really sunk into Akihiko's head. And there Akihiko found himself staring into the inside of Shinjiro's leg. He was unsure of how to react to this; he'd had his own fair share of cuts suffered from training himself in Tartarus. They were worse when you were more determined. He hadn't stopped getting injured for months after his arm finally healed; he gave the honor to frustration, taking none of the credit for himself. It was almost like hurting yourself, but you didn't have to hold the blade to any of your own skin. And it seemed like something that no two people should have in common with each other, yet here they were.
"Shit, how did this happen?"
"One low blow and it all went downhill from there." Shinji wasn't one for story-telling; then again, glorifying these types of injuries was childish. There was no mistaking the seriousness of this.
"I don't think I can help you - you need stitches and badly."
Shinjiro reclined into Akihiko's pillows and shook his head. "No insurance... no hospital."
"That's ridiculous, you have a chunk missing from your leg. You were closer by when you were at Tartarus, you should have just gone - "
"I'll ask Mitsuru to do it, then."
"Mitsuru will agree with me." A little angrier than he'd intended; perhaps Akihiko realized he was concerned for Shinjiro. (Who was he kidding? Of course he was; something had been awry for months, and re-recruiting him into S.E.E.S. gave him every opportunity to keep an eye on him. This was something he'd forgotten to anticipate; oops?)
"You're ridiculous."
"How am I - " he willed himself to pause, compose himself. It was too late to be losing grip with his emotions, he didn't intend to stay awake for the rest of the night. (But circumstances, as they may, seemed to point to that.)
"How the hell do you intend to get me to the hospital at this time of night?" Akihiko opened his mouth to explain that the Dark Hour being over made things significantly easier, but the fact that they'd still have to wait at the monorail for the single car that made rounds late into the night contradicted anything he could say.
"You can't stay here, Shinji. You're bleeding all over my bed and I guarantee you you'll need your leg amputated if you don't let me bring you to the hospital."
"Check the schedule, at the very least." Shinji turned to the side opposite of his injured leg and closed his eyes. Akihiko sighed in frustration, but reluctantly crossed the room to check the schedule online. The glow of his laptop screen burned his eyes as he squinted his way to the schedule. He quickly closed the laptop once he had the information he needed.
"Get up, Shinji - we won't have to wait if we book it to the station."
With a shoe and a half on, Akihiko glanced up to find Shinjiro had fallen asleep in his bed. In any other condition, Akihiko would have given up. They were both stubborn in their own ways, and Akihiko recognized that sometimes you just had to let someone be stubborn. But in this case, he wanted to keep Shinjiro from bleeding out - and selfishly foremost, from doing exactly that on his bedsheets.
Two rough taps on the shoulder, and not so much as a stir. Sighing, he pushed his arm beneath Shinjiro's back and hauled him upwards; if anything was going to wake him up, it was going to be that.
"Hm?" Sleepy; Akihiko scowled again. This was something Shinjiro could have taken care of on his own, but now - "Aki, what are you - "
"We're going to miss the train if you don't get your ass moving, Shinjiro. Now if you wouldn't mind, I will gladly support you and your crippled leg, but we have to leave."
Shinjiro yawned, but positioned himself in such a way that he could comfortably be held up by Akihiko if necessary. Shuffling down the hallway with an extra body dependent on his strength was an obstacle that couldn't match the challenge of the stairs. Shinjiro made a few brave assumptions that he could support himself, but it seemed that neither of his legs were prepared for any use.
Down the street, they developed into some sort of crippled gallop. Akihiko heard Shinjiro suck air in through his teeth, and automatically decreased his speed by at lest fifty percent - Shinjiro grunted and tried to pull Akihiko back into the speed he'd been travelling before.
"You're right, I need stitches, and I seem to remember you saying that we - "
" - have to hurry, of course." Akihiko wasn't about to take any chances. The small amount of sleep he was going to end up getting tonight, if any, was nagging him in a whisper from just behind, and he was hoping to get Shinjiro stitched up in record time. (He tried to remember the last time he'd gotten stitches, but he couldn't remember a time he'd let his stubborn self admit that he'd needed any.)
Perhaps he wouldn't even make it to class tomorrow, spend the entire day sleeping his time away. His foot met the pavement with more confidence, as he suddenly was sure that his selflessness wouldn't go ignored. (Then again, selfless was the wrong word as long as he was talking about Shinjiro.)
"We need to slow down." Shinjiro's breath was jagged, and Akihiko had to force himself to stop. Counting down the minutes, but he recognized that Shinjiro wouldn't have asked to stop unless he absolutely needed to. (He couldn't be so stupid, could he?)
"Shinji - "
"I know, I know," he panted. Akihiko, uncomfortable, tried to distinguish his shoes from the pavement. Have to keep moving, don't let him know just how much every second counts.
"I can wait for the next one, Aki - "
"They come on the hour - "
"I know, but - "
"It's only two blocks down."
Shinjiro's expression changed completely, and he seemed to realize just how necessary it was to get himself checked into an emergency room. More determined than Akihiko had felt all night, Shinjiro returned to marching down the street.
"Don't hurt yourself." Akihiko forgot his boundaries, and wrapped his arm around Shinjiro's waist in order to ensure that he didn't put too much weight on his bad leg.
"It's not too - " he grunted, and it was painstakingly obvious that it had something to do with his leg. "'Snot too far - "
"I mean, maybe I'm - no...." Akihiko trailed off, hopefully justified. Offering to try to carry Shinji was out of the question; Akihiko could punch the hell out of anything, but he wasn't sure that lifting wasn't his forte.
"Don't finish that thought."
Akihiko didn't answer in embarrassment.
They stumbled inside the abandoned station at the same time as the train. Akihiko ducked inside the car as the doors were closing,
Shinji sighed as he sank in the seat beside Akihiko. He sat tensely yet closely beside him. Akihiko forgot to remove his arm from his waist. Halfway into the short distance, the vibrations of the train on the track lulled Shinjiro to sleep. His head bounced and fell to Akihiko's shoulder. Aki found his own lids shutting against his accord as the train continued to travel.
Shinji's coat sleeve had ridden upwards; Aki found himself enthralled by the small pale piece of skin. Adjusting his own arm, he held Shinji's wrist in his hand. He pressed his forefingers into Shinjiro's wrist until he found his heartbeat. Just to be sure.
Meanwhile, a puddle of blood was forming next to his shoe.
Akihiko held on tigher. Shinjiro stirred.
The brake creaked. Akihiko quickly pulled away.