010; [fanfic] Persona 3 -- Garden in my Mind
Title: Garden in my Mind
Fandom: Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3
Characters: Junpei/Chidori
Wordcount: 1,475
Notes: Endgame spoilers, especially for 11/22 and 1/21. Extremely belated Christmas fic for padraiceen, sorry!!
Junpei sat as awkwardly as ever on the bench next to Chidori, kicking his feet against the pavement and trying to resist the urge to look over her shoulder at what she was drawing in her sketchbook. He was trying his best to keep from fidgeting, but he'd forgotten his handheld game system at the dorm, and Chidori wasn't exactly the best conversationalist. He glanced around Naganaki Shrine, looking for something -- anything -- to look at, to distract him from his burning curiosity, but the place was just as deserted as always. There weren't even any interesting clouds in the sky.
It was all so stupid, really. After all the time that he and Chidori had spent together, all the moments they'd shared together in that hospital room, there wasn't a damn thing he could think of to say to her now. And who could blame him? She'd completely lost all of her memories from their time together; if it wasn't for the few hours a week they spent together, she wouldn't even know who he was. But Junpei, in his infinite stubbornness, was determined to make up for the time they'd lost. He was in love with her, dammit, so he wasn't about to let her go without a fight.
"Awful quiet today, huh?" he said experimentally, looking up at the sky as he spoke in a deliberate attempt to keep from staring at his red-headed companion.
Chidori made a small sound of agreement, not even looking up from her drawing.
Sighing heavily, Junpei got up from the bench and idly wandered over to the shrine. Minato would've known what to do, he found himself thinking, certainly not for the first time. He would've known exactly what to say. He always did. Smooth-talking bastard. In anger and frustration, he kicked one of the shrine's wooden posts, much harder than he'd meant to. "Ow! Sonofa-"
"Junpei?" Chidori looked up from her sketchbook for the first time in a while, tilting her head at him curiously. "Are you alright?"
He had to admit, if there was one thing he liked more about this Chidori, it was the way she said his name. Before, there'd always been this edge of contempt that never really left entirely. Now, it was all sweetness and concern, genuine emotions that hadn't been put through a filter. But "this Chidori" and "that Chidori" was such a stupid way to think of her; either way, she was still Chidori. "Yup, no worries! It's all good. Broken toes heal pretty fast, right?"
And now she was laughing, the beautiful lilting laugh that had been far too rare before. "You're so funny, Junpei."
Despite how much he loved hearing her say his name, sometimes he just wished she would stop. Because every time she did, he got this uncomfortable lurching feeling in his stomach. It's not the same, it won't be the same, she doesn't love you the way she did, the way you want her to... She was right here in front of him, but her ghost was still haunting him too.
As he always did at times like this, he thought about the other sketchbook, the one that Mitsuru-senpai had given him after Chidori had died. So many times, he had wanted to bring it with him to show to her, so she could see all the beautiful things she had drawn before, while she'd been cooped up in that hospital bed. All those sketches of Junpei, somehow so filled with love that it made his heart ache. But every time, he'd second guessed himself, deciding to leave it behind at the last minute.
Every time except today.
Chidori had looked at him curiously when he'd left the dorm carrying his school bag, but hadn't questioned him about it. Maybe she thought he'd brought his books along for studying; since she didn't go to school, she had no idea just how bad Junpei's grades were, and how utterly unlikely it would have been for him to be caught studying on the weekend. Either way, the subject had gone entirely unbroached, and Junpei was caught between desperately wanting to show her and desperately wanting to forget he'd even brought the damn thing along.
What he hoped, of course, was that she would look at the sketches and suddenly, like magic, all of her memories would return. No, not all of her memories; he didn't want her to remember hurting herself, or taking the pills to supress her Persona, the pills that would have eventually killed her. The happy memories, the memories of the times they'd spent together, were the ones he wanted to return. Assuming, of course, that she had even thought of those as happy memories. Maybe he was just fooling himself.
He wandered back over to the bench, again being careful not to look over her shoulder as she drew, and stood looking down at his bag, which he'd tossed haphazardly next to the bench when they'd arrived. You're going to be too chicken shit to give yourself another chance. Suck it up. What's the worst that can happen?
"Hey, Chidori, I got somethin' to show you."
She looked up at him as he sat down next to her again, pulling his bag onto his lap and digging around inside. "Oh?"
The sketchbook had been easy to find, so he wasn't sure why he was making such a show of looking around in the bag for it, but that was what he did all the same. "Yeah, they're some really pretty sketches I have. Thought you might like to see 'em." He pulled out the book, eerily similar to the one Chidori was holding now, and flipped it open.
Curious, Chidori set her own sketchbook aside -- that is to say, her current sketchbook -- and peered over Junpei's shoulder. The first picture was one of an idyllic garden, lined with flowering trees, with a brook running through the center. "That's nice, Junpei. Did you draw it?"
Junpei's voice caught in his throat. He'd been counting so hard on Chidori somehow recognizing the drawings as her own that he hadn't really thought about what to say if she asked. You drew it, but you just don't remember. That sounded so stupid. "A friend of mine did. A really good friend."
"Your friend is really talented," Chidori said, giving Junpei a sideways smile and reaching out a small hand to turn the page. "May I?"
Sitting together, closer than they'd been in ages, maybe closer than they'd ever been, the two of them slowly turned through the pages of the sketchbook, Chidori brimming with delight at each new page. She kept remarking on the artist's incredible talent, on their exceptional use of shading and depth, all kinds of things that only a fellow artist would recognize. Junpei, for his part, became increasingly silent, and it felt like his heart was shriveling up and dying in his chest. This had been his last hope, his final desperate chance to help Chidori remember the feelings she had once had for him, but it had utterly slipped through his fingers. Maybe it really was hopeless.
Then, abruptly, they had reached the section of the sketchbook where all the drawings of Junpei began to appear. Junpei asleep in the chair beside the hospital bed, Junpei laughing at some absurd joke he'd just made, Junpei with his head buried in his hands, and Junpei smiling, so many times, over and over again, coating entire pages. Chidori's eyes widened and she drew a little closer to the book, and Junpei thought for one fleeting moment that maybe this was it, this was the moment he'd been waiting for.
It was a stupid notion, ultimately. But god, it would have been nice.
"Junpei?" Chidori's voice was soft and thoughtful, and it sent a thrill through him, even knowing deep down that she wasn't about to ask the question he hoped she would.
"Yeah?"
"The person who drew these... is a girl, right?"
It felt like the shriveled mass of his heart had now dropped down into his stomach. "Yeah, yeah she was."
He wasn't sure if she didn't notice his usage of the past tense, or if she'd just decided to ignore it. "I think... I think she really liked you, Junpei."
Caught somewhere between wanting to smile and wanting to cry, Junpei's face ultimately stayed neutral. He couldn't think of anything to say, wasn't sure what he could say without risking a cameo performance by his utterly un-masculine side, so he just nodded.
Then she was looking at him, her face very serious at first, then breaking into one of her heartwrenchingly beautiful smiles. "I can see how she must have felt."
And his heart sprung to life again, flying about violently in his chest like Trismegistus.
Fandom: Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3
Characters: Junpei/Chidori
Wordcount: 1,475
Notes: Endgame spoilers, especially for 11/22 and 1/21. Extremely belated Christmas fic for padraiceen, sorry!!
Junpei sat as awkwardly as ever on the bench next to Chidori, kicking his feet against the pavement and trying to resist the urge to look over her shoulder at what she was drawing in her sketchbook. He was trying his best to keep from fidgeting, but he'd forgotten his handheld game system at the dorm, and Chidori wasn't exactly the best conversationalist. He glanced around Naganaki Shrine, looking for something -- anything -- to look at, to distract him from his burning curiosity, but the place was just as deserted as always. There weren't even any interesting clouds in the sky.
It was all so stupid, really. After all the time that he and Chidori had spent together, all the moments they'd shared together in that hospital room, there wasn't a damn thing he could think of to say to her now. And who could blame him? She'd completely lost all of her memories from their time together; if it wasn't for the few hours a week they spent together, she wouldn't even know who he was. But Junpei, in his infinite stubbornness, was determined to make up for the time they'd lost. He was in love with her, dammit, so he wasn't about to let her go without a fight.
"Awful quiet today, huh?" he said experimentally, looking up at the sky as he spoke in a deliberate attempt to keep from staring at his red-headed companion.
Chidori made a small sound of agreement, not even looking up from her drawing.
Sighing heavily, Junpei got up from the bench and idly wandered over to the shrine. Minato would've known what to do, he found himself thinking, certainly not for the first time. He would've known exactly what to say. He always did. Smooth-talking bastard. In anger and frustration, he kicked one of the shrine's wooden posts, much harder than he'd meant to. "Ow! Sonofa-"
"Junpei?" Chidori looked up from her sketchbook for the first time in a while, tilting her head at him curiously. "Are you alright?"
He had to admit, if there was one thing he liked more about this Chidori, it was the way she said his name. Before, there'd always been this edge of contempt that never really left entirely. Now, it was all sweetness and concern, genuine emotions that hadn't been put through a filter. But "this Chidori" and "that Chidori" was such a stupid way to think of her; either way, she was still Chidori. "Yup, no worries! It's all good. Broken toes heal pretty fast, right?"
And now she was laughing, the beautiful lilting laugh that had been far too rare before. "You're so funny, Junpei."
Despite how much he loved hearing her say his name, sometimes he just wished she would stop. Because every time she did, he got this uncomfortable lurching feeling in his stomach. It's not the same, it won't be the same, she doesn't love you the way she did, the way you want her to... She was right here in front of him, but her ghost was still haunting him too.
As he always did at times like this, he thought about the other sketchbook, the one that Mitsuru-senpai had given him after Chidori had died. So many times, he had wanted to bring it with him to show to her, so she could see all the beautiful things she had drawn before, while she'd been cooped up in that hospital bed. All those sketches of Junpei, somehow so filled with love that it made his heart ache. But every time, he'd second guessed himself, deciding to leave it behind at the last minute.
Every time except today.
Chidori had looked at him curiously when he'd left the dorm carrying his school bag, but hadn't questioned him about it. Maybe she thought he'd brought his books along for studying; since she didn't go to school, she had no idea just how bad Junpei's grades were, and how utterly unlikely it would have been for him to be caught studying on the weekend. Either way, the subject had gone entirely unbroached, and Junpei was caught between desperately wanting to show her and desperately wanting to forget he'd even brought the damn thing along.
What he hoped, of course, was that she would look at the sketches and suddenly, like magic, all of her memories would return. No, not all of her memories; he didn't want her to remember hurting herself, or taking the pills to supress her Persona, the pills that would have eventually killed her. The happy memories, the memories of the times they'd spent together, were the ones he wanted to return. Assuming, of course, that she had even thought of those as happy memories. Maybe he was just fooling himself.
He wandered back over to the bench, again being careful not to look over her shoulder as she drew, and stood looking down at his bag, which he'd tossed haphazardly next to the bench when they'd arrived. You're going to be too chicken shit to give yourself another chance. Suck it up. What's the worst that can happen?
"Hey, Chidori, I got somethin' to show you."
She looked up at him as he sat down next to her again, pulling his bag onto his lap and digging around inside. "Oh?"
The sketchbook had been easy to find, so he wasn't sure why he was making such a show of looking around in the bag for it, but that was what he did all the same. "Yeah, they're some really pretty sketches I have. Thought you might like to see 'em." He pulled out the book, eerily similar to the one Chidori was holding now, and flipped it open.
Curious, Chidori set her own sketchbook aside -- that is to say, her current sketchbook -- and peered over Junpei's shoulder. The first picture was one of an idyllic garden, lined with flowering trees, with a brook running through the center. "That's nice, Junpei. Did you draw it?"
Junpei's voice caught in his throat. He'd been counting so hard on Chidori somehow recognizing the drawings as her own that he hadn't really thought about what to say if she asked. You drew it, but you just don't remember. That sounded so stupid. "A friend of mine did. A really good friend."
"Your friend is really talented," Chidori said, giving Junpei a sideways smile and reaching out a small hand to turn the page. "May I?"
Sitting together, closer than they'd been in ages, maybe closer than they'd ever been, the two of them slowly turned through the pages of the sketchbook, Chidori brimming with delight at each new page. She kept remarking on the artist's incredible talent, on their exceptional use of shading and depth, all kinds of things that only a fellow artist would recognize. Junpei, for his part, became increasingly silent, and it felt like his heart was shriveling up and dying in his chest. This had been his last hope, his final desperate chance to help Chidori remember the feelings she had once had for him, but it had utterly slipped through his fingers. Maybe it really was hopeless.
Then, abruptly, they had reached the section of the sketchbook where all the drawings of Junpei began to appear. Junpei asleep in the chair beside the hospital bed, Junpei laughing at some absurd joke he'd just made, Junpei with his head buried in his hands, and Junpei smiling, so many times, over and over again, coating entire pages. Chidori's eyes widened and she drew a little closer to the book, and Junpei thought for one fleeting moment that maybe this was it, this was the moment he'd been waiting for.
It was a stupid notion, ultimately. But god, it would have been nice.
"Junpei?" Chidori's voice was soft and thoughtful, and it sent a thrill through him, even knowing deep down that she wasn't about to ask the question he hoped she would.
"Yeah?"
"The person who drew these... is a girl, right?"
It felt like the shriveled mass of his heart had now dropped down into his stomach. "Yeah, yeah she was."
He wasn't sure if she didn't notice his usage of the past tense, or if she'd just decided to ignore it. "I think... I think she really liked you, Junpei."
Caught somewhere between wanting to smile and wanting to cry, Junpei's face ultimately stayed neutral. He couldn't think of anything to say, wasn't sure what he could say without risking a cameo performance by his utterly un-masculine side, so he just nodded.
Then she was looking at him, her face very serious at first, then breaking into one of her heartwrenchingly beautiful smiles. "I can see how she must have felt."
And his heart sprung to life again, flying about violently in his chest like Trismegistus.