A Charming New Year - Part 3
Title: A Charming New Year
Fandom: Persona 3
Characters: Shinji/Aki, Mitsuru
Word Count: ~10k
Warnings: Spoilers!
Rating: R
Summary: One day Akihiko gets Charmed, and he stays charming for way too long; long enough that it threatens his life.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
So they had tried, and they had failed. In hindsight, Akihiko remembered his expectations being unusually high. He had hoped something would work, and knowing better had not changed his mind. Then again, he was hardly in a mental or physical state to think. Most of the time, his thoughts jumped randomly which had led him to eat the strangest of things. He had craved jogging, and when he had set out for a good round, the moment he was down the stairs he wanted to go back and see if Mitsuru kept sweetmeats somewhere in the kitchen.
Willpower decreased with every passing day and now that he was standing in his room, bent over a paper bag yet to be filled, he wondered what would eventually be left of him if the Charm never wore off. He could picture himself fat and miserable, one hand stuck in a boxing glove, the other chocolate-stained.
He shook his head. It wouldn’t go that far, he’d make sure of it. Besides, Mitsuru was working on a solution day and night. She denied the nights, but the dark circles around her eyes gave her away. He had asked her about it once. He had not touched the issue ever again. It was out of his right to tell her what to do and if she found a way to get him back to normal by not sleeping, so be it.
Akihiko sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes. He, too, hadn’t slept much the past week. Whenever he awoke, he had the strange feeling of having had a nightmare. Well, he wasn’t quite sure if they were nightmares. It was just that he couldn’t remember these dreams, and that he was sweaty like after running a marathon each morning. Not something he preferred; and the sun always shone too brightly.
Thankfully it was already night. The moon’s shine was of a much nicer quality, like a sedated version of its big sister.
He put his fingertip to the green bottle’s head tag. Beer Mix Coke!
Not like he had ever felt the desire to get drunk before, and not like he felt it now - and somehow he had his doubts about Shinji liking beer. Shinji, whose sweet tooth had scared the dentist back in their childhood.
They weren’t kids anymore though, and Shinji looked scrawnier each time they met. Maybe presenting him with beer would give him a clue if the alcohol was to blame for Shinji looking increasingly sick.
“I should drag him to the doc more often,” he muttered.
Akihiko put the bottle into the bag, and the rest of the items he had bought followed in the next few minutes. He let his mind go blank while packing. With the Charm’s workings, it wasn’t hard to let that happen. He needed extensive training to clear his headspace, usually. Not now. He thought of nothing at all until he felt himself stumble forwards, his hips colliding with the edge of his desk. He cursed.
The bag was ready. He looked out of the window. The sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight. A perfect night for New Year’s Eve and its fireworks, and this time he wouldn’t let Shinji get away with some silly excuse. And he would find him, unlike last year when Shinji had still made a point of hiding from him as best as possible.
Dry bitterness spread on Akihiko’s tongue as he recalled the memory. He had been worried sick, he had been scared. And Shinji? He had not cared one bit.
Akihiko pulled the bag into his arms and stepped out of his room.
*
"You're all jittery, Aki." Shinji put a hand on Akihiko's shoulder.
Akihiko squirmed away from the light touch. "It's nothing."
"And you look like a freakin' ghost," Shinji said.
"Always been pale." Akihiko shrugged and continued unpacking the paper bag. He put the booze down beside a rusty bucket, earning two raised eyebrows from Shinji. It was a bad idea to give a homeless guy alcohol, but Akihiko would be there to watch over Shinji when they drank -- not that he was too sure he would be able to watch over himself, in this state. "Take a seat."
"That's not what I'm talking about, you fuckin' know that!" Now Shinji gripped both of Akihiko's shoulders. It hurt, a little, maybe because he was drained enough that it had made the part of his brain that processed pain more responsive.
"Piss off, Shinji, please."
"Are you under a Shadow's spell?"
Akihiko hissed and bit down on his bottom lip. Shinji had always been observant and Akihiko had willed the knowledge of this away on his way to him. Of course Shinji wouldn't be kind enough to keep him at a safe distance from the rock-hard reality. "Why're you asking? You usually don't want to talk about Shadows and Tartarus and how we really need you back, how --"
Shinji's arm shot out, missing Akihiko's face by a mere inch or two. "You friggin' look a hella like it."
"'s that so?" Akihiko sat down next to the booze, popping the lid open. Plastic cups were in the bag but he didn't bother taking one out and simply took a good gulp out of the bottle.
"You been spelled lately?"
"Yeah. Charmed. Won't wear off."
"Has Mitsuru checked on you already?"
Akihiko rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, right, 's Mitsuru." Shinji plucked the bottle out of Akihiko's grip. Akihiko waited for him to try it out -- tasted nice, his tongue still prickled a little and the stinging behind his forehead had already begun. Instead, Shinji dropped the bottle back into the bag.
Akihiko leaned back, the steps of the cement stair poking his ribs. "We tried all kinds of healing items and counter-spells. Hell, she even cast it on me again. Nothin's working." A chilly breeze made him close his eyes. It all felt too cold, too hot, and everything and everyone he looked at was bright. Shinji's coat seemed like the sun had gone red with the intention to burn Akihiko's eyeballs into oblivion. His eyes watered when he looked at it for too long. The paper bag was also a vibrant brown, but it didn't sear into his vision like the coat.
Shinji sat down in front of him, arms lazily draped over his knees. "This 's not usual stuff."
"Surprise, asshole." Akihiko couldn't hold back a snort, even as it sent needles into his temples. He groaned and covered his eyes. "Just. Drink. It's New Year's Eve."
He could hear Shinji's raw laughter and imagined how his lips must have quirked into a grin for just a second. "We're not legal, Aki. Don't think it's a good idea to get drunk. 'specially with the Dark Hour approaching."
"As if you've ever cared," Akihiko heard himself say. He fell into silence and now he could imagine Shinji's lips pressed together, forming a thin, angry line. He hadn't meant to say it, hadn't meant whatever Shinji would have gathered from his words. It was too late, had been said, had been done. And it wasn't the first time their conversations had gone awry just because the topic turned to Shinji's behavior. "'m sorry."
"Yeah, whatever," Shinji said. "Don't feel like drinking."
"Me neither."
"You brought the freakin' stuff when you don't even feel like it? Tch."
Akihiko forced his eyes open. "I thought you'd like it." He searched Shinji's face for a change in expression, for a hint as to what the other one was feeling. There was nothing to make out of it. So maybe he'd been wrong, maybe he'd been right, maybe Shinji would just get up and leave him here to wait for the Dark Hour all on his own.
No.
He knew Shinji wouldn't do that, but somehow it didn't matter. Shinji had left once, who knew when he'd decide to leave again.
Akihiko reached out - Shinji rolled back and forth in his tip-toeing sitting position - and then he pulled on Shinji's sleeve. Come here, he thought, come back.
"You sure this is just Charm?" Shinji tilted his head to the side, his lips parted. "Look sick."
"'m not sick," Akihiko murmured.
"What kind of Shadow was it?"
"Shinji, just, fuck... I don't want to discuss this with you." Say something. A tiny spark of hope glimmered and heated Akihiko's chest when Shinji opened his mouth but then a stone sank when he simply closed it again. "Fuck you. Just a regular one."
"Are you sure?"
"Shit, Shinji. Mitsuru examined it thoroughly, 'kay? She said it was just a regular one, so it is just a regular one."
"Her Persona's more for combat," Shinji said.
"It's not like anyone else can do it, right?" Akihiko let go of the sleeve he'd kept holding onto till now. "I've gotta trust her. You should, too. You know exactly what she said about the accident and you're still just a stubborn jerk. What the hell are you even doing all day out. Never see you at school. Never."
"Aki."
"Besides, it's not like you can run away from the Dark Hour! It's every freakin' day. You gotta use your Persona when they run wild."
"Aki."
"Scratch that, your Persona will just come out and run wild again, sooner or later."
"Aki."
Akihiko inhaled, rushing cold air inside his lungs. "What!?" His mind cleared and so did his sight, and he noticed sometime during his rant he must have gotten up, and his fists were clenched -- he relaxed them, still feeling tense all over -- and Shinji stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Oh," Akihiko said. "Sorry." The ground was dirty all over, bubblegum mixed with glass shards, but it was better than looking at Shinji.
"Go back to the dorm."
"No," he said. It surprised himself how indignant he was able to sound, yet even more when Shinji started chuckling.
"Never change, huh." Shinji pushed him out of the small backyard, following suit. "I'll get you there safely, alright?"
He blinked at Shinji. There were too many questions racing through his mind. None of them would meet Shinji's appreciation. He knew as much, and resorted to nodding curtly. "Alright." He stopped in his tracks. "No, wait. The bag. I... uhm. I don't think I should just leave it there."
"First you go breakin' the rules, then shit yourself over who's gonna take advantage of that lil' bottle?" Shinji shook his head, putting a hand on Akihiko's shoulder.
Akihiko let himself be led out under the light of a streetlamp. Its faint blue glow made him see the world as if it were turning into a smurf. It seemed so much more blue than it had when he'd went into the backyard to find Shinji only about half an hour ago.
Akihiko leaned on Shinji for support. The smurf world was distinctly more blurry, too. "I feel sick."
"You look the part," Shinji said.
"Thanks, ass--" Akihiko retched. "I think I gonna--" Bitter liquid filled his mouth and exploded before his eyes, splashing onto the burning sun coat and the dirty ground. Someone said "shit" and it must have been Shinji, there was no one else. Akihiko heaved again, providing more bile to flood his mouth and run out of it swiftly.
He felt himself be pushed, hands on his chest. Akihiko staggered and hit the floor with a thud. His back hurt, but he threw up again and this time nothing came out of him anymore. It felt like a knife slicing his throat open from the inside. He shook his head and retched again, clinging to the next best thing.
He blinked; his cheeks felt damp. He shivered, then looked up. Shinji regarded him with a frown. "Bet'cha hospital ain't gonna help ten to twelve."
Shinji's coat was covered in greenish slime. "I'm sorry."
"Shut up." Shinji slid out of his coat and threw it on the ground. Wouldn't get cleaner too soon, huh, Akihiko thought, and wrapped his arms around Shinji's neck without a second thought as Shinji pushed one arm under his knees and put the other around Akihiko's back. He felt Shinji's muscles tensing as he was lifted off. Shinji grunted into his ear. "Gained some weight, fucker."
It took him a while to get the words he wanted to say in the right order, but then Akihiko said, "'s no good without your food."
"Gotcha," Shinji said.
"I feel better."
"No, you don't. Where's your cellphone?"
"Jacket. Pocket. Left." He gestured lazily, feeling his eyelids droop.
Shinji shook him lightly. "Get it out and call Mitsuru."
"No," said Akihiko.
"Now."
Akihiko sighed and fumbled around to find his cellphone. He pressed 1 and waited for Mitsuru to answer.
It didn't take more than fifteen seconds at best, Akihiko guessed. He started the loudspeaker, then let his head fall back against Shinji's shoulder. "Akihiko! Where are you!"
"Shut up," Shinji said. "He just puked all over me. 's not looking well."
Silence on the other end. "... Shinjiro?" She cleared her throat. There was another pause. "It's only thirty-five seconds till the Dark Hour settles in. I'll use my powers to find you. Stay where you are." A click and she was gone.
"Nice shit."
Akihiko wriggled, but Shinji's hold on him only seemed to tighten. "Let go."
With a sizzling sound, the smurf light went out. "Dark... Hour."
"Shit."
"Calm down." The name of this hour got a completely new meaning as everything around him became one seemingly moist mess that blended far too well before going darker until there was only blackness, and his body was heavier than he ever remembered it being.
to be continued...
Fandom: Persona 3
Characters: Shinji/Aki, Mitsuru
Word Count: ~10k
Warnings: Spoilers!
Rating: R
Summary: One day Akihiko gets Charmed, and he stays charming for way too long; long enough that it threatens his life.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
So they had tried, and they had failed. In hindsight, Akihiko remembered his expectations being unusually high. He had hoped something would work, and knowing better had not changed his mind. Then again, he was hardly in a mental or physical state to think. Most of the time, his thoughts jumped randomly which had led him to eat the strangest of things. He had craved jogging, and when he had set out for a good round, the moment he was down the stairs he wanted to go back and see if Mitsuru kept sweetmeats somewhere in the kitchen.
Willpower decreased with every passing day and now that he was standing in his room, bent over a paper bag yet to be filled, he wondered what would eventually be left of him if the Charm never wore off. He could picture himself fat and miserable, one hand stuck in a boxing glove, the other chocolate-stained.
He shook his head. It wouldn’t go that far, he’d make sure of it. Besides, Mitsuru was working on a solution day and night. She denied the nights, but the dark circles around her eyes gave her away. He had asked her about it once. He had not touched the issue ever again. It was out of his right to tell her what to do and if she found a way to get him back to normal by not sleeping, so be it.
Akihiko sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes. He, too, hadn’t slept much the past week. Whenever he awoke, he had the strange feeling of having had a nightmare. Well, he wasn’t quite sure if they were nightmares. It was just that he couldn’t remember these dreams, and that he was sweaty like after running a marathon each morning. Not something he preferred; and the sun always shone too brightly.
Thankfully it was already night. The moon’s shine was of a much nicer quality, like a sedated version of its big sister.
He put his fingertip to the green bottle’s head tag. Beer Mix Coke!
Not like he had ever felt the desire to get drunk before, and not like he felt it now - and somehow he had his doubts about Shinji liking beer. Shinji, whose sweet tooth had scared the dentist back in their childhood.
They weren’t kids anymore though, and Shinji looked scrawnier each time they met. Maybe presenting him with beer would give him a clue if the alcohol was to blame for Shinji looking increasingly sick.
“I should drag him to the doc more often,” he muttered.
Akihiko put the bottle into the bag, and the rest of the items he had bought followed in the next few minutes. He let his mind go blank while packing. With the Charm’s workings, it wasn’t hard to let that happen. He needed extensive training to clear his headspace, usually. Not now. He thought of nothing at all until he felt himself stumble forwards, his hips colliding with the edge of his desk. He cursed.
The bag was ready. He looked out of the window. The sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight. A perfect night for New Year’s Eve and its fireworks, and this time he wouldn’t let Shinji get away with some silly excuse. And he would find him, unlike last year when Shinji had still made a point of hiding from him as best as possible.
Dry bitterness spread on Akihiko’s tongue as he recalled the memory. He had been worried sick, he had been scared. And Shinji? He had not cared one bit.
Akihiko pulled the bag into his arms and stepped out of his room.
*
"You're all jittery, Aki." Shinji put a hand on Akihiko's shoulder.
Akihiko squirmed away from the light touch. "It's nothing."
"And you look like a freakin' ghost," Shinji said.
"Always been pale." Akihiko shrugged and continued unpacking the paper bag. He put the booze down beside a rusty bucket, earning two raised eyebrows from Shinji. It was a bad idea to give a homeless guy alcohol, but Akihiko would be there to watch over Shinji when they drank -- not that he was too sure he would be able to watch over himself, in this state. "Take a seat."
"That's not what I'm talking about, you fuckin' know that!" Now Shinji gripped both of Akihiko's shoulders. It hurt, a little, maybe because he was drained enough that it had made the part of his brain that processed pain more responsive.
"Piss off, Shinji, please."
"Are you under a Shadow's spell?"
Akihiko hissed and bit down on his bottom lip. Shinji had always been observant and Akihiko had willed the knowledge of this away on his way to him. Of course Shinji wouldn't be kind enough to keep him at a safe distance from the rock-hard reality. "Why're you asking? You usually don't want to talk about Shadows and Tartarus and how we really need you back, how --"
Shinji's arm shot out, missing Akihiko's face by a mere inch or two. "You friggin' look a hella like it."
"'s that so?" Akihiko sat down next to the booze, popping the lid open. Plastic cups were in the bag but he didn't bother taking one out and simply took a good gulp out of the bottle.
"You been spelled lately?"
"Yeah. Charmed. Won't wear off."
"Has Mitsuru checked on you already?"
Akihiko rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, right, 's Mitsuru." Shinji plucked the bottle out of Akihiko's grip. Akihiko waited for him to try it out -- tasted nice, his tongue still prickled a little and the stinging behind his forehead had already begun. Instead, Shinji dropped the bottle back into the bag.
Akihiko leaned back, the steps of the cement stair poking his ribs. "We tried all kinds of healing items and counter-spells. Hell, she even cast it on me again. Nothin's working." A chilly breeze made him close his eyes. It all felt too cold, too hot, and everything and everyone he looked at was bright. Shinji's coat seemed like the sun had gone red with the intention to burn Akihiko's eyeballs into oblivion. His eyes watered when he looked at it for too long. The paper bag was also a vibrant brown, but it didn't sear into his vision like the coat.
Shinji sat down in front of him, arms lazily draped over his knees. "This 's not usual stuff."
"Surprise, asshole." Akihiko couldn't hold back a snort, even as it sent needles into his temples. He groaned and covered his eyes. "Just. Drink. It's New Year's Eve."
He could hear Shinji's raw laughter and imagined how his lips must have quirked into a grin for just a second. "We're not legal, Aki. Don't think it's a good idea to get drunk. 'specially with the Dark Hour approaching."
"As if you've ever cared," Akihiko heard himself say. He fell into silence and now he could imagine Shinji's lips pressed together, forming a thin, angry line. He hadn't meant to say it, hadn't meant whatever Shinji would have gathered from his words. It was too late, had been said, had been done. And it wasn't the first time their conversations had gone awry just because the topic turned to Shinji's behavior. "'m sorry."
"Yeah, whatever," Shinji said. "Don't feel like drinking."
"Me neither."
"You brought the freakin' stuff when you don't even feel like it? Tch."
Akihiko forced his eyes open. "I thought you'd like it." He searched Shinji's face for a change in expression, for a hint as to what the other one was feeling. There was nothing to make out of it. So maybe he'd been wrong, maybe he'd been right, maybe Shinji would just get up and leave him here to wait for the Dark Hour all on his own.
No.
He knew Shinji wouldn't do that, but somehow it didn't matter. Shinji had left once, who knew when he'd decide to leave again.
Akihiko reached out - Shinji rolled back and forth in his tip-toeing sitting position - and then he pulled on Shinji's sleeve. Come here, he thought, come back.
"You sure this is just Charm?" Shinji tilted his head to the side, his lips parted. "Look sick."
"'m not sick," Akihiko murmured.
"What kind of Shadow was it?"
"Shinji, just, fuck... I don't want to discuss this with you." Say something. A tiny spark of hope glimmered and heated Akihiko's chest when Shinji opened his mouth but then a stone sank when he simply closed it again. "Fuck you. Just a regular one."
"Are you sure?"
"Shit, Shinji. Mitsuru examined it thoroughly, 'kay? She said it was just a regular one, so it is just a regular one."
"Her Persona's more for combat," Shinji said.
"It's not like anyone else can do it, right?" Akihiko let go of the sleeve he'd kept holding onto till now. "I've gotta trust her. You should, too. You know exactly what she said about the accident and you're still just a stubborn jerk. What the hell are you even doing all day out. Never see you at school. Never."
"Aki."
"Besides, it's not like you can run away from the Dark Hour! It's every freakin' day. You gotta use your Persona when they run wild."
"Aki."
"Scratch that, your Persona will just come out and run wild again, sooner or later."
"Aki."
Akihiko inhaled, rushing cold air inside his lungs. "What!?" His mind cleared and so did his sight, and he noticed sometime during his rant he must have gotten up, and his fists were clenched -- he relaxed them, still feeling tense all over -- and Shinji stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Oh," Akihiko said. "Sorry." The ground was dirty all over, bubblegum mixed with glass shards, but it was better than looking at Shinji.
"Go back to the dorm."
"No," he said. It surprised himself how indignant he was able to sound, yet even more when Shinji started chuckling.
"Never change, huh." Shinji pushed him out of the small backyard, following suit. "I'll get you there safely, alright?"
He blinked at Shinji. There were too many questions racing through his mind. None of them would meet Shinji's appreciation. He knew as much, and resorted to nodding curtly. "Alright." He stopped in his tracks. "No, wait. The bag. I... uhm. I don't think I should just leave it there."
"First you go breakin' the rules, then shit yourself over who's gonna take advantage of that lil' bottle?" Shinji shook his head, putting a hand on Akihiko's shoulder.
Akihiko let himself be led out under the light of a streetlamp. Its faint blue glow made him see the world as if it were turning into a smurf. It seemed so much more blue than it had when he'd went into the backyard to find Shinji only about half an hour ago.
Akihiko leaned on Shinji for support. The smurf world was distinctly more blurry, too. "I feel sick."
"You look the part," Shinji said.
"Thanks, ass--" Akihiko retched. "I think I gonna--" Bitter liquid filled his mouth and exploded before his eyes, splashing onto the burning sun coat and the dirty ground. Someone said "shit" and it must have been Shinji, there was no one else. Akihiko heaved again, providing more bile to flood his mouth and run out of it swiftly.
He felt himself be pushed, hands on his chest. Akihiko staggered and hit the floor with a thud. His back hurt, but he threw up again and this time nothing came out of him anymore. It felt like a knife slicing his throat open from the inside. He shook his head and retched again, clinging to the next best thing.
He blinked; his cheeks felt damp. He shivered, then looked up. Shinji regarded him with a frown. "Bet'cha hospital ain't gonna help ten to twelve."
Shinji's coat was covered in greenish slime. "I'm sorry."
"Shut up." Shinji slid out of his coat and threw it on the ground. Wouldn't get cleaner too soon, huh, Akihiko thought, and wrapped his arms around Shinji's neck without a second thought as Shinji pushed one arm under his knees and put the other around Akihiko's back. He felt Shinji's muscles tensing as he was lifted off. Shinji grunted into his ear. "Gained some weight, fucker."
It took him a while to get the words he wanted to say in the right order, but then Akihiko said, "'s no good without your food."
"Gotcha," Shinji said.
"I feel better."
"No, you don't. Where's your cellphone?"
"Jacket. Pocket. Left." He gestured lazily, feeling his eyelids droop.
Shinji shook him lightly. "Get it out and call Mitsuru."
"No," said Akihiko.
"Now."
Akihiko sighed and fumbled around to find his cellphone. He pressed 1 and waited for Mitsuru to answer.
It didn't take more than fifteen seconds at best, Akihiko guessed. He started the loudspeaker, then let his head fall back against Shinji's shoulder. "Akihiko! Where are you!"
"Shut up," Shinji said. "He just puked all over me. 's not looking well."
Silence on the other end. "... Shinjiro?" She cleared her throat. There was another pause. "It's only thirty-five seconds till the Dark Hour settles in. I'll use my powers to find you. Stay where you are." A click and she was gone.
"Nice shit."
Akihiko wriggled, but Shinji's hold on him only seemed to tighten. "Let go."
With a sizzling sound, the smurf light went out. "Dark... Hour."
"Shit."
"Calm down." The name of this hour got a completely new meaning as everything around him became one seemingly moist mess that blended far too well before going darker until there was only blackness, and his body was heavier than he ever remembered it being.
to be continued...