#well whatever it is. Makoto felt the other's body suddenly shaking ever so slightly as the arms wrapped around him

[lunart-06]

Kamukura with emotions doesn't make him weaker than before, just because he's in relationship with Makoto doesn't mean he's gone completely *soft*. He's only gone soft in just one angle, the rest is still pretty much still the same except now he perfers to rest his head on Makoto's lap than anything else that was already available for him to simply just lean his head against.

The first thing he feels when being around makoto isn't *love*, it's simply the same feeling he always felt which is *boredom*. And the second that came along wasn't the first thing mentioned, it's *interest* (from the form of the prespective of boring normalcy that differs his own) that slowly by time turned into *obsession* (realizing this whole thing is much better than when being stuck in the tight room in his lab) and by then began to be sticking around the guy instead of the other way around and it'll be a surprise to Makoto one day and to Makoto that will only be taken as an invitation to be closer. A progress.

All in all *love* will be the LAST THING appeared even AFTER they were in a relationship because it is something that Kamukura HAS to come in terms or accept himself, or realising too late to stop it cause he only accept to be "in a relationship" (with the entitlement of 'lovers' or 'partners' and everything) with Makoto simply in a way so Makoto can stay close to him (knowing the guy's unyielding loyalty and used that to his gain), because Makoto continues to make himself intriguing to Kamukura in his own boring, simple ways because Kamukura has grow to hate and berated normalcy of the untalented by his teachers and developed it through there. Plus he never gets to experience or learn a lot more of it other than the lab staffs' explanation of how "boring" it is and it's seem to also be the reason *he* became Kamukura in the first place as well.

(So the beggining of their relationship itself, the "love" part was one-sided. Kinda. In a way)

Sure it *is* boring. The whole "normal lifestyle" thing is sure sucked away his life source (if he even had one) and it's already just as he expected even when he lets Makoto around for at least a few days, he only let the guy around cause his luck is unexpected at most times but then of COURSE Makoto would use those times to shimmy his way into Kamukura's life. Shortly yet slowly. A very strange pace it is but it worked well with both of them.

His sickening optimistic, motivating nature to upbring Kamukura's gloomy, unmotivated one to pull him in the most boring of activities eventhough he had stated either directly or indirectly that those are, obviously, *boring*.

But Makoto's other traits that has first caught him just *slightly* off guard (which is. Rare and almost to never) was his undeterred determination to prove someone wrong (either in a morality sense in what was naively generally right). Perhaps he has been too assuming of Makoto's commonly pushover antics, or maybe Makoto's usual everyday and everytime genuine optimism has put his guard down just a bit that it made him passed by the fact that Makoto- no matter how positive and hopeful- *can* get mad or bothered if being triggered in certain ways. Certain ways as in if it involves someone else or views of things morally in a negative sense (the reaction made Makoto look more.. real. Something along that line).

Im also thinking how at some point, that *stubborn* determination that *always* butts in whenever Kamukura try to state or refuse. To try and always attempting to change his mind and at some point it led to another breaking point leading to the next change and that would be Kamukura- in his still usual bored tone yet out of character dialogue, said, in *annoyance*; "can you shut up." And doesn't THAT caught them BOTH off guard.

Silence followed when both were lost in their own thoughts in trying to process it before Makoto snapped out of it first to apologise for crossing the line and in promise to not do it again. Which, Kamukura is fine with but at the same time- "no" he would say, "keep talking". Cause sure, Kamukura has a fair share of being annoyed sometimes, but THIS is different, because just *how* can he be so easily annoyed over something so... *simple* as Makoto to be able to *blurted out* the moment of thought? It's something worth to explore more. To *experience*. Because it's new and when it's new, it's usually *interesting and unexpected* to someone like Kamukura.

And sometimes it's not just usually some new emotion just popped up at certain times, it's also the fact how constant it is of how the emotions he had experienced off kept *shifting*. He'd be bored then suddenly feeling intrigued in something then suddenly be slightly fluttery-ish? ('Amused' he noted) or suddenly feeling heavy in his chest ('sadness' he thought), heck, even the feeling of something clawing his insides when Makoto almost get a brick crushed his own head ('fear' he whispered to himself) then suddenly sometimes shifts back to being bored, then intrigued, then over and over in an out of order cycle. It either shift back to the same things or it develops something new.

It was never just one thing everyday just like how things are before meeting Makoto- like continuously be bored of everything and that's what makes things both overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time.

I also think that another thing that pulls Kamukura to Makoto is that just from Makoto, wanting to hang out and stick to him, to befriended him, with the payment only be *spending some time with Kamukura* and not to use him for his talents and abilities alone. Is one thing Kamukura unmanaged to just *understand* or fully grasp. In the end though he resolved by thinking that perhaps this is just a Makoto thing. That Makoto is being too good or cared too much of others in a way. But it does put Kamukura in a good "hm..." moment though.

I have a funny imagery that Kamukura just seem to be more often being put *slightly* off guard more by Makoto (wether intentionally or unintentionally which is usually the latter) than anyone else does. To which he be more on guard than he is before and to not jump to the most obvious conclusions or assumptions on some people because, of course, the Makoto situation and all. To which also means it made him statistically *more* dangerous than before (congrats Makoto! You made him more cautious or more thoughts in than usual of what was around him!).

His obsession in wanting to keep Makoto close to him by time will become apart of his own conciousness that *I* believe to be the case. Because after everything?? Everything that happened for the last few months?? Wether before or after being together (though I believe the moment they are together is the moment where the feeling became more hecticly stronger)?? It would only be obvious that he would, for once, *accidentally* (cause really, since when does being with Makoto Naegi means anything gone as planned?) Putting the obsession from wanting Naegi close because he is the first and often only source of interest for Kamukura's own bargained to wanting Makoto close because suddenly he was in too deep in the pit he had been *still* continuously dig himself in and finding that he doesn't *like* it when Makoto was out of reach.

(Going from trying to keep the guy around for selfish reasons by means to keep himself out of his usual bored state [cause let's face it, Kamukura isn't a good person, nor a bad one either, heck doesn't even attempted in search to at least *try* to quench his boredom just because he lacks any sort of motivation. But if the interesting thing were to suddenly presented dangling just in sight he WILL grab onto it tightly.], to obsessively trying to not get the guy lost out of his reach figuratively or metaphorically sense cause he *knows* that he will never *feels* something like this again, to feeling just *right* to have Makoto close to him and not letting go just because he doesn't *like* it)

I doubt Kamukura even realised the moment he had been *attached* to Makoto, simply because he had never experience emotions in the first place other than just knowing the basic theories to diagnose others in. And when he did, it's too late by then (it won't be him unable to escape Makoto. No, no, on the contrary, Makoto will be unable to escape *him*).

So anyways. Love isn't the priority to Kamukura since the very beggining in the start of their relationship, because the other foreign subjects that is emotions (twinging sadness, light amusement, flickering annoyance, poisonous jealousy, and dare he not admit the clawing fear) *are* the foundations that build his own *version* of what was the concept of 'Love' is.

Love is different to everyone afterall, so far what Kamukura has learned and see, if there was anything the same about all of it is that; love is a form of passion, and the connection of the bonds, it can be different from others, but Kamukura *doesn't* feel anything a lot WITH anyone else in general more than he is with Makoto. So essentially to him, it was different. It's not love that was viewed *generally* but it was his own version nonetheless.

This is just *my* insight of how I see Kamuegi *in* Kamukura's prespective. Cause he is my favorite character to write. You can do so many things to him in certain situations no matter how impossible it seem to try and not break his character. But that's the thing. You NEED to break certain characters, but as long as you didn't break the fundamental core of their characters then trust me, it's more of a scratch or a rather small crack on a ceramic vase than it looking all smashed up.

Sometimes you GOTTA make a scratch or heck, added something on it, without it losing it's shape or material as a ceramic vase, in order to make it slightly more jazzam get it? Or to make it work for the theme of the room you placed it in. (Not me using the vase metaphor for all of this)

[cynicaldesire]

Idiot Punk - Persona 5 - Ryuji/Makoto

Ryuji stepped out into the Shibuya Station Square and looked around. Miss Student Council President had asked for him directly, and only him, but he had forgotten the calling cards at home. The square bustled with strangers and tourists, a dark-haired, heavy-set foreigner woman dodged past him with an apologetic smile on the arm of a redheaded dude. Maybe he should dye his hair red next.

“Sakamoto-kun!” Makoto startled him, standing by the small sitting area off to the side.

Ryuji smirked and jogged over to her. “No need for all that, Makoto. We’re part of the Phantom Thieves now, we got a special bond. Just Ryuji is fine.”

A smirk edges one corner of her lips up, mirth playing in her eyes. “Not so loud!”

Ryuji grinned a little brighter. She motioned toward Central Street and began to lead him toward their target.

“Yusuke-k-. Ahem. Yusuke provided me with his sketch of the vehicle’s license plate that kidnapped me. My plan is to place a calling card in or on that vehicle and at various places around the area.” She spoke over her shoulder, professional and focused on her duty.

Ryuji followed after her, dodging past a few oblivious or downright rude strangers as he listened. “Okay, sounds good. Why just the two of us, though?”

She paused at the Shibuya Crossing. She adjusted her grip on her bag. “I believe you more capable of taking care of yourself than the others. And Akira-san has his probation to worry about.”

Ryuji’s brow lifted. She believed in him. Makoto Niijima, the Student Council President, his senpai, a better strategist and thinker than even Akira, whose Persona came in the form of a sick motorcycle, believed in him, a dumb punk good at track. Well, before Kamoshida screwed things up for him, anyway.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, unable to look at his senpai’s shoulder. “Aw, shucks, senpai.”

“Though, I will need you to remove your clothes.”

The crossing lights changed and forced the Shujin students into a throng of people moving across the street. Ryuji attempted to keep up, her words sinking in, rattling around, and sending blood to all the wrong places.

He hadn’t really pegged her as that type, especially with everything happening with Kaneshiro, and especially in their current situation. But he couldn’t deny his attraction to her, beautiful and smart and badass and amazing. Sure he preferred a little more meat on his girls, but Makoto didn’t leave him wanting.

She looked back to check on him once they had crossed the street and headed for Kaneshiro’s domain. She reached a hand out toward him to rescue him from the herd of people headed to other areas. He swallowed, realizing suddenly the difference in their heights.

“Sakamoto-kun, is something the matter?” Her brow furrowed.

Still the honorifics. Maybe they didn’t have a special bond. And besides, she didn’t know? She really gonna make him say? He looked around and leaned down to whisper to her. “Senpai, you really need me to get naked?”

Her whole body grew a few centimeters, shoulders and back stiffening, as a redness crept onto her cheeks. “No! Where did you get such a ridiculous notion?”

Now he’s the pervert, offending the pure Student Council President. Just another idiot punk. She believes he can take care of himself, because she’d probably bail at the first sign of trouble. And if nothing else, she can just say he coerced her, who’d believe him anyway?

He feels the anger, the rage of his abusive father, and mutes it as best he can. “Sorry, Niijima-senpai.” The words are spat at her as he returns to the slouched stance that makes him comfortable, knees apart, eyes focused somewhere else, hands in his pockets. “What did you want me to do?”

He felt her eyes on him, felt something from her that he can’t make sense of. Must be some kind of side effect of the Metaverse? They have Personas and can change people’s hearts, what if they have a kind of radar for people’s emotions as well?

Makoto turned her head slightly and tapped at her bag. “I have a regulation school uniform in my bag. I rented it from a shop nearby. We’ll need it to make you look like a regular Shujin academy student. The more you blend in to the patrons here, the easier it will be. It is rather unfortunate about your hair, not easily hidden.”

So that’s why she wanted his clothes. His eyes fell. “Yeah, sorry about that. Where do you want me to change?”

She gestured to a nearby diner. “Head in there and use their restroom. I will order us some tea while you change.”

He nodded silently. They enter and find a booth. A green tea for her and coffee for him. Obviously finding the pairing odd, the waitress gave them an odd look. A punk and a dignified girl at the same table together? Something seemed awry.

The frustration welled again, echoes of his father reminded him how much of a worthless punk he is. Idiot punk. He knows what he looks like, what his actions make people think of him. He tried so hard, but there’s not a damn thing he can do. Just a punk kid with bad posture, bad grades, and bad hair.

Their beverages ordered, he ruffled his blonde hair, grabbed the bag from Makoto, and headed toward the restroom. She whisper-yelled something to him as he stalks off, but he’s already gone. He had to get away, lest the shithead take over.

The uniform has everything, even the regulation shoes. She must’ve noticed his size in their interactions. But the shirt feels tight and he has no regulation shirt of his own, so he keeps it on. The pants are a bit loose, she must not have accounted for his training, so he wears his own, a little too short but the right waist size, and uses the regulation belt instead of his suspenders. He stuffs all of his personal clothes into the bag and heads out of the bathroom.

He returned to a steaming cup of black coffee.

Makoto glanced to him, staring at a map or something. “The waitress will return with cream in a moment. She had her hands fu-“ Her eyes widen at him.

The sudden drop in her sentence startled him. He leaned forward. “Senpai? You okay?” Probably just shocked to see him in the regulation uniform, something completely out of character for him.

A blush graced her cheeks, pinker this time, her eyes dropped abruptly to a map of Central Street. “Apologies, Sakamoto-kun. I’m fine. We should go over the plan.”

Odd. She fidgets a bit, something he isn’t sure he’s ever seen her do. Whatever. “Yeah, ‘course.”

He felt something else emanating from her that he can’t quite place. He should ask Morgana about it later. He grabbed a few sugars from the table and starts to shake them.

She glanced at the movement instinctively. “I thought it might be better for us to split up to cover more ground quickly. I’ll leave the car to you while I begin posting the Calling Card here.” She pointed to a building on the map before turning it around under her finger to show Ryuji.

The blonde looked over the map, ripping open the sugars to pour them into his coffee. “Is that where the car is?”

Makoto’s brow furrowed and she tilted her head. “The car should be somewhere around here.” She gently circled her finger at another location somewhere clear across the map. “It picked me up at the Protein Lovers Gym before, which is also where Akira-san and I were approached to be part of the operation. So I can only assume the vehicle should be around there.”

Ryuji tilted his head at the map as well. He looked to where she pointed earlier and to the probable location of the car. With the danger inherent in their activity, the idea of leaving Makoto alone unsettled him. Deeply. He picked up his spoon and to stir the sugar dumped into his coffee.

“We should probably stick closer together on this, senpai. Especially since we don’t know where the car is.” He finished stirring and lifted to spoon out to plunge it into his mouth. Still hot, he growled a bit as it almost burned his tongue.

The response is immediate. Ryuji felt another shift in mood, a darker shift. She withdrew her finger from the map to glare at it. The spoon rested on the table while he waits for his cream.

“I can take care of myself, Sakamoto-kun.” Her voice is quiet, almost threatening.

But he understands. Her Persona came to her, born out of a frustration and a disbelief in everyone calling her useless. “I know, senpai, I’m not saying you can’t.”

Her eyes stay on the table. “Then why are you disagreeing with me?”

A slow breath for him. He had so many of these arguments with his father, starting out innocently enough, though they typically ended with his mother caring for him in the bathroom. “I’m not disagreeing with you, I just… I’d feel better if I knew I could help you if something happens.”

Her eyes close, shoulders lift. “I’m not useless, Ryuji! I don’t need your help!”

Ryuji recognized the anger, the frustration. He’s felt them plenty of times himself, dealing with shitty adults telling him how he won’t amount to anything or he’s a no-good punk.

He leaned forward, eyes on his coffee, elbows on the table, and rested his head on his hand. “Guess even Student Council Presidents feel insecure like us punks.”

Her head lifted with a small noise, the feeling at the table shifting again. Movement caught his eye, Makoto tucking a bit of hair behind her ear, finger-combing the bit behind a braided headband. He never really noticed the braided headband that held her hair back before, a beautiful and subtle crown. That prevented the need for her to tuck hair behind her ear. He felt a smile tug at half his lips.

He gestured with his free hand. “It’s not that I don’t have faith in you, senpai- I’ve seen just how badass you are as Queen and all – It’d just make me feel better for both of us to keep eyes on each other. I don’t want you to get kidnapped again. Because last time we were right on your tail, but if it happens when it’s just the two of us and I don’t know what’s happened… Somethin’ worse could happen to you. I don’t know if I could live with that.”

A small smile curled her lips. Her arms appeared from under the table to wrap around her tea. “I see. Thank you, Sakamoto-kun. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

The warmth in her voice caught him off guard. He sat up and looked to his steaming coffee. “S’ok. Not anything I haven’t dealt with before.”

Another barely perceptible shift in her emotions.

“Sorry about the wait.” The waitress startled both of them, bringing another cup and a few small pitchers of cream. Ryuji smiled and thanked her as she hurried off to help other patrons.

“Doesn’t it anger you, Sakamoto-kun?” Her eyes hadn’t left her tea.

Ryuji poured a bit of cream into his coffee and got to stirring. “What?”

She turned the cup in her fingers. “That adults… underestimate you. They treat you no better than they treat Akira-san. And you don’t even have a criminal record.”

That had to be the shift. Ryuji shrugged. “It pisses me off plenty, senpai, which is why I’m still in the hole I’m in. But there ain’t nothing I can do to get out of it. ‘Cept being a Phantom Thief. Because at least I’ll know the good I can do and the… potential I got. So let other people think what they want, you know? I know me.”

The cup lifted to her lips. “You are not only good at being a Phantom Thief.”

Another kind statement. He rarely trusted those for too long. “You’re bein’ awful nice to me, senpai. I would still prefer you stick close by in case somethin’ bad-“

A gasp steals the rest of his protest. She shook her head. “No! I’m not trying to- I-…” Her lips pressed together, drawing Ryuji’s attention to the precisely painted, pink buds. Something tugs in his chest. “I remember the track team when you were on it, before Kamoshida destroyed it. You��� You were by far the best on the team. They were only able to advance as far as they did because of you.”

Praise has been few and far between for him, especially regarding his performance on the track team. And coming from the Student Council President? She’s just buttering him up, for sure. “You know what? Fine. I’ll go take care of the Calling Card for this asshole’s car.” Might as well get started now. He reached for his wallet and thumbed through his yen for the cost of the coffee. “Then I’ll wallpaper this shitty district with it and head home. You don’t have to deal with me anymore if you don’t want to.” He slammed the cost of the coffee down and grabbed the bag beside him.

It’s her bag, the one she brought the clothes in. He growled, recognizing the anger of his father, but he can’t quell it now. He knew they didn’t fit, that they make for an odd friendship. But that’s no reason to mock him, to pretend to like him. Just get the work done and go home and return the uniform to her tomorrow.

Makoto’s brow lowered, glaring up at him. Another shift in mood. The hell does he care? “Gimme my bag, senpai.”

“Why are you upset, Sakamoto-kun?” Defiant.

He clicked his cheeks. “It’s got the Calling Cards in it. I can’t do what you want me to do without it.” He gestured for it. “So givit here and let’s get this over with.”

She sighed and grabbed his arm. He barely registered the action before she pulled him into the seat beside her. “Firstly, you haven’t heard the entirety of my plan. Secondly, I was being honest with you before, your skills on the track team are impressive. And-“

He waited impatiently for the “Thirdly”, but she hesitated. He rolled his eyes. “Does it really matter?”

She shifted slightly beside him, giving them both more space in the booth. “Of course it does. You have just as much to offer as I do, Sakamoto-kun.”

He shook his head. “You tryin’ to flatter me has nothing to do with the plan. What more is there to the plan besides delivering the Card and papering the rest? You got your half, I’ll do mine until I run out, then we go home.”

She looked to the map of the area. “I suppose that is all to the plan, isn’t it.” She sounded almost disappointed.

“So gimme the cards and I’ll handle it.” The frustration boiled just below his tipping point, causing his good leg to bounce under the table, occasionally hitting the support and causing the mugs to shake a bit.

“I’ll need your clothing back before tomorrow. I need to return them to the uniform rental.” She sounded almost apologetic.

His eyes fell to the too-tight white polo with the Shujin crest. Her arms remained still wrapped around his. The clinking of the mugs stopped. “So you want me to get it done quick, use those track skills. I got it.”

Brown hair swayed at his upper arm, the difference in their height and the short length of his sleeve just enough that her hair tickled. He’s a red-blooded teenager and Makoto is a shapely, amazing girl. As nerves started to fray, his leg bounced again.

“Ryuji-san, I-“

Blood rushed to his cheeks. He tries to avoid thinking of where else it rushed to.

She unraveled herself from his arm, her deep brown eyes, almost red, peeked up at him through her eyelashes. She lifted a hand to fingercomb her hair. The mood shifted again. “I-“ His brow lifts. “I, ah, I’m sorry I misjudged your size.”

His brow collapsed, eyes shifted from the blushing President to his tight polo. It sounded as if she planned to confess. He rubbed the back of his hair. “I think I’ll live. A little uncomfortably, but it’s okay.”

For her part, a smile tugged briefly at her lips. She glanced to him again. “Th-That’s part of why I want the uniform back. I do not wish to put you through too much discomfort.” He rolled his eyes slightly, disappointment crept through his body. The mugs started to clatter again. “I will accompany you on our mission, Ryuji-san.”

He blinked back to her. “Y-You will?”

She nodded. “It would certainly be foolish to attempt to confront them on my own. I want to believe I can handle myself, but… there is evidence to suggest I may not be able to. There is certainly strength in numbers. And… It might look more strange for us to be wandering around the area on our own. But if we travel together, we could just be a pair on a date.”

A grin crept onto Ryuji’s face. “What a first date, huh? Threatening a mafia boss so that we can steal his heart and save kids from blackmail?”

A melodic giggle greeted his left ear. He grinned to his companion. Another mood shift. “You’re impressive, Ryuji-san.”

His brow lifted. “Me?” Panic sorted through his previous statements. “’Cause I’m a huge dumbass?”

Hesitation stayed her voice. Her eyes fell to her tea. And he swore he saw a gentle pink on her cheeks. “You’re so earnest and dedicated. And manage to find humor in the darkest of situations.”

A blush found his ears. He lifted his eyes, hoping to distract himself. He hadn’t received compliments from someone outside of his mother for some time. “Oh, uh… Thanks.”

Makoto reached for her tea. “You didn’t touch your coffee, Ryuji-san.”

He blinked at it. He had forgotten. “I don’t like coffee anyway.”

She sipped her tea. “Then why order it?”

He shrugged. “Akira lives at a café with his guardian. The owner serves a lot of coffee. I keep thinkin’ I’ll like it, but it’s so bitter. Kinda tastes like… boiled beans.”

She giggled again. “That’s effectively what it is.” She returned her tea to the saucer and retrieved the map from the table. “We should probably get going though.”

Ryuji pulled out his wallet to dig through his yen. “How much was the tea, again?”

A soft hand cupped his. He almost jumped at the contact. “Sakamoto-kun, that’s quite all right. I can pay for myself.”

Ryuji remembered just how often someone outside of his mother touched him gently. Not even Ann touched him except to fight. But it was friendly. Part of him appreciated her aggressive nature, someone to remind him that not every physical contact had to be like his father. Her fights with him sometimes brought back memories, but he had gotten better at controlling the anxiety that came with them.

Makoto took her hand from his and started to fish around for the yen for her tea. He set his jaw. “I know you can, but I’m supposed to be your date, right? I can cover your tea, Queen.”

Before she could protest, he dropped another group of yen on the table. “Sakamoto-kun!” He moved to stand from the booth, ignoring her protest.

“Come on, Miss President, we got work to do.” He grabbed her bag, filled with his clothes, and waited for her to extricate herself from the booth.

Her lips pursed again, defiance in her eyes, but she grabbed his bag and slid from the booth. She leaned down to grab a few yen coins. “The cost of the tea was cheaper, Sakamoto-kun.”

He shoved the spare change in his pocket. At least she let him pay at all. Instinctively, he dropped a hand to the small of her back to lead her from the diner, nodding to the waitstaff on their way out.

A comfortable rhythm grew between them as they wandered through the streets looking for Kaneshiro’s car. Ryuji stole glances at Makoto, watching her intense gaze searching surreptitiously for their target. Smart, pretty, shapely, dedicated. She had so much going for her. No wonder they kept getting such curious looks. Maybe splitting up had been the better idea.

Bruises flashed on the wrist holding his bag to her shoulder. She had been effectively kidnapped and manhandled barely a week prior. The bruises had already healed to a similar yellow to her skintone, but Ryuji remembered. That had been his life for a while.

“How are you recovering, by the way?” The silence hadn’t been awkward, per se, but he felt a need to fill the it anyway.

The intensity in her face cracked. She looked up to him. When had he started to walk without the slouch? “Recovering?”

He motioned to her wrist. “You still have the ghost of bruises here. Figured you might have other ones, too. Are they doing okay?”

She offered him a smile that he immediately recognized, a smile he wore plenty of times while the bruises lay hidden under his long sleeves in July. Another mood shift. “They’re doing fine, Sakamoto-kun.”

But he knew the truth. He looked ahead, scanning the area again. “If you ever get hurt like that again, because of Shadows or somethin’, use some ice after a couple days to help it heal faster.”

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sakamoto-kun, thank you.” She already knew that, her acceptance meant to be a kindness. He knew that, but it sounded more like a placation. “Where did you learn something like that?”

If only he had spotted the car. “Personal experience.” He didn’t want the memories that came with the explanation.

She smiled slightly, her eyes still scanning as well. “You must’ve had a few mishaps during your training. But you learned how to take better care of yourself. That must be why you’ve gotten so muscular.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks. That sounded suspiciously like flirting. His dark memories melted back into the closet he kept them in. “Why, Miss President, I didn’t know you were looking.”

He caught a darker pink to her cheeks. “Th-The shirt, Sakamoto-kun! It’s just a bit too small, that’s all!”

Ryuji dropped his head to look at the shirt. The buttons at the neckline had been left open, but the opening pulled, stretched to its limit. He had felt a tad uncomfortable at the sleeves, the openings tight around his biceps. He had kept the shirt untucked, a simple freedom for not being in school, but the shirt held tight to the slight definition of his abdomen. He paid it little mind, figuring the offending clothing only covered him for a few hours while they handled the Calling Card.

It only demonstrated his point. He hadn’t seen all those details before she mentioned it. He smirked. Maybe she told the truth, maybe she honestly felt impressed by him. Maybe she honestly believed in him.

A good-for-nothing punk with a shitty past and anger issues. He pressed his lips together.

“Oh! There it is!” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him into an alcove that housed a staircase leading to the arcade. Whatever her intentions, he fumbled a bit on his feet, catching himself on the wall. He looked down to the Student Council President, caged by his body, her eyes focused more on the vehicle up the street than his reddening cheeks.

“It looks fairly well-guarded right now. Do you suppose the men surrounding it will wander away for any reason?” She leaned down to look past his arm.

Ryuji shook his head. “What?” He missed her words, only recognized the questioning tone.

Makoto looked back to him, straightened up, and furrowed her brow. The height difference made her seem smaller, easier to succumb to his will. “The Calling Card. I don’t want you getting caught either, Sakamoto-kun.” Her eyes widened. “Oh!” His heart stuttered; did she finally notice their position? She started to dig around in his bag on her shoulder. “The Calling Card! Where-“

Whatever moment Ryuji had had, he had alone. As it passed, eaten by Makoto’s dedication to her duty, the blonde pulled away from the wall. He took a slow breath and gestured at her hands. “Here, cut it out. I got it.”

She pulled his bag forward to provide him easier access. What an idiot he had to be to think he had any kind of chance with her. After a bit of rummaging, he produced the specialty Calling Card for Kaneshiro. Makoto tilted her head in an effort to read it. He turned it around for her.

“Checking my work, Miss President?” He strove for playful, but felt a bit offended. Or he had yet to recover from feeling like an idiot for getting distracted at their intimate positioning.

She shook her head. “I told you what to say, but I never got the chance to see it.” She lifted a hand toward it. He shifted it slightly for her to take. Instead, she smiled up to him. “You did it perfectly, Sakamoto-kun. I just hope I could see the look on his face when he reads it.”

Ryuji forced a chuckle. Easier just to pretend it never happened. Because technically, it didn’t. “I’m more looking forward to kicking his ass in the Metaverse.”

Makoto narrowed her eyes, lifted a determined fist. “That’s right.” She leaned around him again. “Ah, the car appears to be unguarded for now. You should get going, Sakamoto-kun.”

He spun around. Sure enough, there appeared to be no one surrounding the car. He turned back to her, nervous energy tapping his foot. “You stay right here, okay? If things go south, go into the arcade and wait for me.”

Makoto’s brow furrowed for a moment, defiance flashing in her eyes. It faded quickly into a soft smile. “Of course, Ryuji-san.” As he turned away, she grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

He turned back around, heat returning to his cheeks. A gallant knight off to perform a duty for his queen found himself rewarded with a kiss for good luck. Did she intend to give him one? He could only hope.

She tapped her bag. “It should be easier to move around without this. I’ll keep an eye on it.”

Disappointment slumped his shoulders. He removed the bag and handed it over. She nodded to him. “Good luck, Ryuji-san.”

He sighed gently and headed for the car. He did his best to appear as if he simply walked by while he glanced into the darkly tinted windows. It appeared empty, including behind the driver’s seat. Where to put the Card though? Under the windshield wipers, like some kind of advertisement? No, they’d just throw it away. It would have to be inside the car, somewhere they’d have to look at it.

He tried to driver’s door. It clicked open. Panic lifted his eyes to scan the area. None of the Yakuza-looking guys seemed to be around. He slipped into the driver’s seat and sat down.

Okay, now what? Glove box? In the window? He looked at the steering wheel, his hands instinctively curled around it. He grinned slowly. He could probably just steal it, that’d get their attention. Who cared if he didn’t know how to drive?

The cops would care. They’d arrest him and he couldn’t help much from a jail cell. It would probably also complicate the Phantom Thieves. And Makoto stood nearby waiting for him. If he did nothing else, he refused to let her down.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He slid his hands down the steering wheel. The cover felt very nice.

Steering wheel cover could probably hold the corners of the Card, it’d be right there in their face when they got into the car. He nodded and got to work. His phone buzzed again.

He found the car just slightly too small to fit comfortably. He shifted it off to the side, as far up as he could, and around the entire rim. A square peg in a round hole proved to be a lot harder than he anticipate. But he found a way.

He sat back to assess his work. Movement outside the car caught his attention. Someone approached the driver’s side door. His phone buzzed. It did little to distract him from the panic forcing pile into his throat.

“Excuse me, sir?” Makoto’s voice drifted muffled into the car.

Ryuji clenched his jaw; he told her to stay put.

“Hey there. Ain’t you a pretty girl. You go to Shujin Academy?” The thug lifted his glasses to get a better look at her. Ryuji gripped the steering wheel tightly, almost messing up his hard work. Though he did thank Captain Kidd that Kaneshiro hadn’t shared his blackmail photos with anyone else yet.

Makoto nodded. The blonde felt an roar of emotions from her, that weird Metaverse bleed effect. “I was hoping you could direct me to the Airsoft Shop? I can’t seem to find it anywhere.” The a stranger, she sounded normal. However, Skull could hear the cracks in his Queen’s façade.

The thug arched a brow. “The model gun store? What’s a sweet, little thing like you want with model guns?” He shifted slightly closer, drawing a growl from the blonde in the car.

Makoto simply giggled, fussing with her hair. “Thank you! My boyfriend has an affinity for them. I wanted to get him a present for his birthday, but I’m having a hard time locating it.”

Ryuji’s brow furrowed. Her boyfriend? Did she actually have one? He studied her back and noticed her hand gesturing. He focused on the movement. Oh, a distraction for him to get out of the car.

The thug smirked. “Well, isn’t your boyfriend a lucky guy. He sounds pretty dangerous, though. Maybe you should consider an alternative.” His hand went for Makoto’s shoulder.

Makoto’s giggle darkened a bit. She moved away slightly, out of the thug’s grasp, turning the thug away from the car. Ryuji looked through the window to her. She glanced in his direction and nodded her head.

“I’d prefer to see how he likes my present, first. If only I could find the shop.” She did a much better job than Ann.

Ryuji opened the car door. The noise startled the thug, forcing him to whip around. Ryuji crawled from the car, just below the windows. “The hell was that?”

Makoto panicked. Ryuji felt it. “W-What was what?” She dialed up the charm a bit too high.

Ryuji rolled into the street and closed the door with his foot. The thug rounded the car just as he rolled over again. “What the hell?”

Makoto followed close behind him. “Sa- Oh gosh, baby, are you hurt?”

The track star looked to her, confused. Baby? Hurt? Makoto’s eyes pleaded with him. He recognized that look. Play along and your father will leave.

Ryuji groaned. “Ah, shit. That hurt.” He rolled onto his back.

The thug stomped up to him. “The fuck are you doing to my car?”

Ryuji rolled his eyes. “No, no, it’s okay, I’m fine. Don’t help.” The blonde hopped up into a crouch and stood up slowly.

Makoto jogged over, anxiety obvious on her features. “My gosh, are you okay, sweetie?” Her hands touched him all over, checked his face, his arms, and boiled his blood.

A blush covered his cheeks to his ears. He looked to Makoto as she wrapped herself around his arm, pressing herself against his side. He could feel her breasts pressing against his elbow.

“This your boyfriend, sweet thing?” The thug appeared skeptical.

She giggled again. “Yeah. I guess I’ll just get him to show me to the airsoft shop. Sorry for bothering you, sir.”

She dragged Ryuji away immediately, giving the younger blonde no time to process the exchange. “Come on, sweetie, you were going to show me your favorite store.”

He lifted a hand to run through his hair as she led him away. The thug grumbled something behind him. Makoto remained glued to his arm, leading him further away toward the arcade. She paused at the arcade and pulled him inside the alcove again. She pressed him back against the wall this time, leaning out to watch the thug get into the car.

Ryuji swallowed hard. He couldn’t get the feeling of her breasts out of his mind. They were a lot softer than he had ever imagined. He had a primal desire to feel more of them, more of her, rising within him.

She straightened up and looked to him. “What the hell were you thinking, Ryuji!”

The desire drained into the background but remained hot. He furrowed his brow, frustrated. Idiot punk, that’s what she thought of him. “What the hell was I thinking? What the hell were you thinking! I told you to stay here! Something could’ve happened to you again!”

She growled. Despite her lack of height, he felt shorter than her. “You weren’t checking your phone, so I had to improvise. What would’ve happened if he had opened the car door and found you sitting there with a Calling Card? Why did you get in the car in the first place?”

He raised his hands, attempting to feel taller again. “I don’t know! I probably would’ve run. I’m pretty good at that, right? That’s why you brought me.”

Her brow furrowed, a mixture of anger and pain. “You are also out of practice! What happens if you tripped or, or, or couldn’t slip away fast enough? What if they got in the car to run you down? Then I’d be left alone…” Her voice broke and she looked down, her hair falling in curtains to shroud her face.

Ryuji lifted his brow, anger cooled as soon as her voice broke. Another shift. Concern lowered his shoulders. A story rested under that crack in her mask, one she had not shared with him yet. She cared just as much about watching him being taken as he did about something happening to her.

He rubbed his shoulder and rolled his neck. “Yeah, okay. I just… didn’t want them to think it was some kind of Hostess ad and throw it away, ya know? Thought I should put it in the car where they couldn’t miss it.”

Makoto’s shoulders lifted. A small sniffle drifted to his ears. His weight shifted, ready to step into her space to hug her, to provide the strength where she found weakness, as he had done for most of his life.

But she didn’t belong to him. They barely had a friendship.

Ryuji sighed slowly and dropped his hand onto her shoulder. “Hey, thanks for looking out for me, senpai. Without your quick thinking, who knows what would’ve happened to me?”

A lithe hand disappeared under the shroud of her hair. Probably to wipe her eyes. She lifted her head to him. “Thank you, Sakamoto-kun.”

What little comfort he provided, she seemed to strengthen. Or at least, to mask whatever feelings she had. He smiled down to her. “Of course, Makoto-senpai.”

She took a small step back and lifted her bag between them. She must’ve left them when she came to his rescue. He slid his hand off her shoulder to take it from her. “I suppose we should get to work with the Calling Cards, don’t you think?”

Ryuji’s smile brightened as he swung the bag of clothes over his shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s show these guys who they’re messing with!”

She giggled, genuinely this time, and grabbed for his bag. He felt a swell in her emotion, something positive, and laughed once. Both teenagers buzzed.

Ryuji retrieved his phone from his pocket first. Makoto fidgeted. “Mine is in my bag. Is it from the group chat?”

Ryuji nodded. Girls didn’t get pockets. “Yeah. They’re freaking out over the Calling Card and stuff. No biggie.”

She took his word for it, surprisingly, and assisted him with pulling the Calling Cards out of the bag, along with the tape and anything else they would need to put them up with. They required little verbal communication, both seeming to understand the needs and intent of the other in pulling items out. Their task complete, Ryuji took the bag from her and swung it over his other shoulder. Makoto narrowed her eyes at both bags sticking out from his back.

Brown eyes scanned for the street just outside the alcove. “Come on, we should probably get to the other side of the block to start puttin’ these up. That guy is probably lookin’ around for whoever put the Card in his car.” Ryuji made to leave the little alcove by the arcade.

Makoto grabbed the strap of her bag on his shoulder. He tensed. “Sakamoto-kun, do you truly intend to carry both our bags?”

He turned back around to her, confusion pulling at his features. Idiot punk. “Yeah? Somethin’ wrong with that?”

Makoto sighed and tugged her bag off his shoulder. He carefully transferred the contents of his both hands to one and allowed her to take it. “Firstly, you look ridiculous. Second, I’m capable to carrying my own bag.”

Ryuji’s eyes fell. He should have more faith in her. “Right. Sorry. Mom-“ He swallowed the explanation and shook his head. “Anyway, let’s get going.”

She swung her bag up onto her shoulder and lead the way out of the alcove. They turned away from Kaneshiro’s car and walked as calmly as guilty teenagers could. Ryuji, one hand now free, lifted it to rub the back of his neck. Spending an afternoon with the Student Council President had never been halfway on his mind before. He always felt so inadequate next to anyone from the school, less so around the track team, but most often around someone like Makoto. She had so much going for her. But him? Not so much. As everyone reminded him frequently. He gripped the Cards in his hands. That was his purpose.

They worked in relative silence for a bit, aside from the occasional buzz of their phones that they collectively ignored, sticking Calling Cards to any open walls without too many witnesses. No one seemed to notice a pair of Shujin kids taping things to buildings, even if one had blonde hair.

His mind wandered a few times in the semi-comfortable silence, mostly about innocent stuff like exams and the track team problem, but also about Makoto’s Persona, but frequently about the tight curves that held her to it. He also thought about the Metaverse bleed he felt from her, if it were a new thing, and if she felt anything from him.

Near the end of their stack of cards, Makoto stood by as Ryuji taped the last few up. She fidgeted in her spot, one arm crossed her body to hold the opposite elbow. “Sakamoto-kun?”

He hummed absently, distracted from wondering which game he’d play when he got home tonight.

“The track team is reforming without Kamoshida.” He felt her eyeing him through her lashes. More nervous than seductive, but he couldn’t stop the carnal images from rattling around in his mind.

He already knew. “Yeah? That’s good.” He started to walk toward an empty spot on the wall. Why did she care?

She jogged a bit to catch up, that bleed effect feeding him conflicting information. “W-Well, I thought perhaps you would be interested in joining. Even with what happened with Kamoshida, your record speaks for itself.”

He turned and got to work. “Nah.”

Makoto stiffened, but held out the Cards for him. “No? Why not?”

He stared at the wall. How to explain? “Don’t wanna.”

She furrowed her brow, that danger and defiance dancing in her eyes. She leaned close, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you think our Phantom Thief activities will get in the way of your meets?” She straightened up, voice normal. “I’m sure Akira will be accommodating.”

Ryuji glanced at her and kept moving. She couldn’t have the bleed effect that he had. “Why’s it so important to you what I do?” Maybe she expects having some outlet will help him.

Her shoulders lifted, both hands clasping her bag. “I-It’s not. I just… I’ve seen how happy you were in the track team photos and-“

Happy? She wanted to see him happy? Ryuji laughed and turned back to her, not sure what to do with this information. “You’ve been doing a lot of research into me, Miss President.”

A blush crept onto her cheeks. “It… It was for the investigation.”

Ryuji’s grin slipped a bit as he moved a bit further. She had probably been instructed to keep an eye on him as well, the biggest troublemaker at Shujin. He tore off a piece of tape and rubbed it a little too hard against the wall. Idiot punk.

“That appears to be all we had, Sakamoto-kun.” Makoto held a hand out to him.

“That’s it?” His brow furrowed at her hand. “What-“

She curled her fingers inward, beckoning to him. “The tape. I’ll put it back in your bag for you.”

He looked to the dispenser in his hand and shook his head. “Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.” He did his best not to sound too disappointed. He caught a glimpse of his outfit as he fiddled with his bag. “Oh yeah, I gotta change outta this monkey suit, right?”

Makoto chuckled. The bleed effect cleared up a bit. “’Monkey suit’? It’s just a school uniform. But yes. I would like to return it before school tomorrow.”

He nodded. No need to spend more money on a rental when you didn’t have to. “Sure. Let’s head back to the diner. It’s getting pretty late, too. Maybe we should just grab something to eat while we’re there before we head home. Finish off our ‘date’ with a nice meal.”

Makoto followed after him. The bleed effect muddled again. “Actually, I had hoped to head home and do a bit of studying before bed. We won’t have much time tomorrow.”

Ryuji shrugged. She probably didn’t want to spend more time with him than she needed to. “I’ll try to change quickly, then.”

She slowed down a bit. He turned to catch her in the corner of his eye. She clutched at her bag again, a redness to her cheeks that seemed out of place. “How are your grades doing, Sakamoto-kun?” She shook her head as if scolding herself for something.

Ryuji furrowed his brow for a moment. Panic set in. “Did Mona say somethin’!?”

Makoto’s eyes shot up to him. “Mona? No! I just… I worry about your grades.”

Ryuji’s brow lowered further. Idiot punk. “I’ll admit, they aren’t great, but they’re my problem.” He spun around and headed for the diner’s staircase.

Makoto followed after him. They swapped bags once led to a table and Ryuji escaped quickly to the restroom. He grumbled as he changed clothes, his choice of video game when he got home now conflicting with a sudden urge to study. Part of him didn’t want to let Makoto down, but he couldn’t kid anyone. He simply didn’t have the smarts to get good grades.

He did try, for a while, but he found himself at the bottom of the exam results list too often to care too much. That was why he threw himself into track. He could focus while he ran, just listening to music and the growing strain in his legs, the breathing he regulated. He had too much energy to sit and study.

And running usually got him out of the house when his Dad had a particularly bad day.

He stuffed the wadded up uniform back into her bag and reached for the doorknob. His hand closed just before the knob. She didn’t deserve his anger. He turned back around, crouched in the floor, and started to fold all the clothes neatly.

The table appeared busier than he had remembered. Makoto had ordered a plate of fries large enough to need at least two people. He flopped back down in the booth across from her. An orange soda caught his eye. His favorite. And fries didn’t hurt.

“Well, you’re being rather forward, Miss President. Ordering my drink for me, getting us something to eat.” Ryuji arched a brow across the table.

Makoto lifted her eyes from a manga he kept in his bag. “Oh!” She blushed and slammed the manga shut. “Apologies, Sakamoto-kun. I wasn’t sure when you’d be returning so I just…”

She didn’t hear him. He shrugged and grabbed a fry. “S’fine. I could use the carbs. How did you know my favorite flavor though?” She looked away. He nodded. “Lemme guess, it was for the investigation.”

Makoto’s lips pressed together. She fussed with her hair. “I merely observed it while following you all. I’m… sorry for going through your bag.”

He waved a hand dismissively. He had gotten used to it. “Whatever. S’not like I keep anything important in there.” He grabbed another fry. “Should I control myself on these fries, or…”

She looked to the golden potatoes. “No, it’s okay. I still have dinner at home.” He nodded and dug in to the plate between them. “That manga was surprisingly philosophical for someone like you, Ryuji-san.”

Ryuji arched a brow again. He couldn’t blame her for thinking him stupid. He swallowed most of the chewed potatoes. “Whatcha mean?” The words sounded muffled around the rest.

A smile formed on Makoto’s lips despite the disapproving glare she leveled in his direction. Presumably for talking with food in his mouth. “I’ve never really read manga, unless it was for school purposes. L-Like the training ones from lower grades, like for English and stuff.” He kept chewing. “So when you talk about manga in the Metaverse, I suppose I expected… a lot more violence and… sex.”

Ryuji swallowed the rest of his fries and chased them with a bit of orange soda. Idiot punk. “I keep those ones at home.”

Makoto’s entire face turned a dark red. Ryuji couldn’t contain the shrill laughter that escaped him at her embarrassment. Her shoulders raised and she scooted to the end of the booth. “W-We accomplished our task for the night, anyway. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” She turned to bolt.

Ryuji lunged forward to grab her wrist. “Aw, man! I’m sorry, Queen! Don’t go!”

Her hand drew into a tight fist. “I will remind you, Sakamoto-kun, that I am trained in Aikido.” She tossed the dark threat over her tight shoulders.

Her tone killed his laughter. He swallowed again and tugged on her arm. “Hey, senpai, sorry. I just meant a little fun. I didn’t mean to… hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly. Her reddish-brown eyes peeked at him over her shoulder. He offered her an apologetic smile. She turned back toward him and nodded. He released her wrist and gestured to the seat across from him. She smoothed her skirt down and slid back into it.

The blonde took one fry. She stayed. He looked to the closed manga. “Which one did you get out, anyway?” He plunged the fry into his mouth.

Makoto furrowed her brow at the manga. “It was about… a man fighting all manner of demons to protect himself and someone he loves? He had an enormous sword.”

He swallowed and grinned. “Aw, man, that one’s my favorite. Did you like it?”

Red-brown eyes lifted to him, confusion etched in her brow. “I… suppose. From what I read, the man has a moral dilemma. The object of his affection is mindless and he struggles to save her, but he is confronted with the idea that perhaps she wants to remain broken.”

The blonde nodded absently and took a sip of his soda. She had no idea. “Yeah. That’s tough.”

Brown locks swayed as she shook her head. “Why would she want to remain broken, though? What was she like before? What… happened to her?”

A smirk played on his lips. He leaned forward a bit and tapped the manga a few times. “You picked up the wrong volume, Miss President. That manga has been goin’ on since the 80s.”

Her brow lifted. “The 80s!? It’s been running that long?” He nodded. “How much would I have to catch up on? How much further does it go?”

He tilted his head. A smirk played on his lips as he leaned forward. “You liked it that much, just from a few pages?”

The blush returned, pinker this time. It complemented her features well. “W-Well… It poses interesting questions.”

Ryuji tilted his head. “But you only asked me about the relationship so far.” It seemed almost out of character for her to pursue.

Her brow furrowed. He could almost see the gears turning, desperate for a better explanation than she had simply been interested. “But… isn’t her situation much like that of a Change of Heart?”

The blonde straightened up. Seemed a good excuse as any. “You know… I guess I never thought of that.” He laughed once.

She lifted a few lither fingers to fuss with her hair, combing a bit behind her left ear. “Do you think the mangaka knew about the Metaverse even then?”

Ryuji dropped his head. He reached for more fries. “I don’t think he had that in mind when he made the manga. He’s said in interviews before that he sorta lets the story grow as it wants to.” He grabbed a few fries and dipped them in mayo cup. “That’s why the story has been going on so long. He doesn’t plan it out or anything. There’s plenty of people that complain about some of the characters’ inconsistencies from the first chapter until now, so some people don’t consider the very first chapter canon until the writer explains himself. So I doubt he knows anything.” He shoved his handful of fries in his mouth.

Makoto lifted a hand to her lips. “That could just be an excuse. He could be behind the mental breakdowns. Or-“

Ryuji laughed again. He shook his head and chewed. “You fink-“ He laughed and chewed a bit more.

Makoto frowned over the table to him. He calmed a bit; just a moment ago she had attempted to leave for this reason. He cleared his throat and chewed quietly.

“I’m taking this case very seriously, Sakamoto-kun. Yes, we need to stop Kaneshiro, for personal and impersonal reasons, but we are the only ones with the knowledge and power to stop the true culprit behind the attacks.” She sighed sharply.

Ryuji swallowed his mush and looked around the diner. Other patrons chatted and ate happily. Not one of them knew the weight that a group of teenagers bore. Not one worried for their mental state. Because Makoto had a point.

And here he thought he would have a nice conversation about a manga.

He wiped his hands on his pants. “Okay, senpai. I… It’s not that I ain’t takin’ this seriously, it’s just that… If you read the rest of the manga, you’d know why she was like that. It’s all fairly clearly explained. In gruesome detail.” He grabbed his soda. “You’re welcome to borrow them anytime. I know you’d take care of them.” He chugged the orange beverage out of frustration.

Makoto looked to the manga. “I probably shouldn’t. I have so much studying to catch up on after all these excursions into the Metaverse. Speaking of, would you like to head home?”

He looked to the plate of fries. He had been working on it since he returned, but without her help, he had barely eaten half of it. “Ain’t you hungry, senpai?”

She smiled politely and shook her head. “I have dinner at home. Thank you though.”

His eyes narrowed. She had ordered them. The blonde shrugged. “I’ll finish these up and pay for everything then. You can head home, senpai.” He grabbed another fry and settled in.

Makoto lifted her brow. “Ryuji-san, you already paid for my tea earlier. I know you don’t have that much money to sp-“

He waved a fry at her. “Look, a gentleman pays for his date.”

Her eyes widened, her cheeks reddened, and she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, revealing red ears. “D-Date, Ryuji-san?”

He felt his jaw tense. They had joked about it all day, why did it bother her now? The bleed effect flickered. He felt his cheeks flare with the heat of embarrassment. He shoved the single fry in his mouth. Idiot punk. “C’mon, senpai, I’m just messin’ with ya again. Now head home. You don’t wanna be seen out with a delinquent like me, ya know?”

Her brow furrowed over worried eyes, but he pretended not to recognize the expression. He had seen it several times on his mother’s face. He pulled the menu out to look for prices.

“Ryuji…” Her voice drifted to him, delicate and reserved, but somehow still warm.

He took a slow breath, doing his best to ignore her. His pocket buzzed again. Soda was unlimited, he could go to the bar to get more, and it only cost 160yen?

“Ryuji.” Her voice came a bit harsher this time, demanded his attention.

He took a sip of his soda and discovered the bottom of the glass. He moved to stand from the booth. Makoto stood in his way. “Oh, are you headed home, senpai?” Best to act innocent, it typically deflected his mother’s frustration.

He jumped slightly as she leaned down, her arms wrapped around his neck, and drew him into an awkward hug. He felt the blush spread on his cheeks and darted his eyes around the diner.

“Ryuji, you’re my friend.” Makoto’s spoke directly by his ear. He tried to ignore the sensations in his fingertips, the back of his neck. “I don’t want to hear you putting yourself down like that anymore, okay?”

He looked to the glass in his right hand. He wanted to hug her back, to touch her in any way, but he knew the looks they would garner, the whispers and stares. He simply cleared his throat. “’Course, senpai.”

She squeezed him one last time before she stood. “Good. You’re a good person, Ryuji, regardless of your reputation.”

He couldn’t stop the sardonic chuckle. She narrowed her eyes at him, forced him to look away. They were only friends insofar as she had blackmailed them to include her in their Thievery. Outside of that, she never spoke to him. “Thanks, senpai.”

“Ryuji, I’m serious.” She stood resolute, preventing his escape. Right, Aikido.

The whispers had already started. He could hear the other diner patrons muttering quietly. Probably something about how he had pissed off that sweet looking girl and he deserved whatever shit she was giving him. Idiot punk. “Yeah, whatever. I’m thirsty, though, and the drinks are unlimited, so… Mind getting’ outta my way?”

She balked, her head draws back. He knows he’s going too far, the abusive asshole not properly locked away yet. He cursed himself even as she shifted back to her side of the booth. She muttered out an apology as he bolted from the table. The whispers followed him, louder in his head. Idiot punk. He couldn’t put that reputation on her, too.

A few more ice cubes tinkled into the glass before he refilled his glass with melon soda. The favorite flavor of his mother, it should help calm him down. And with any luck, Makoto would’ve gotten the hint and bailed. She didn’t need to be out all night performing legally grey activities with some delinquent. Idiot punk. He got her in too much trouble. Shit, he was trouble. He took a few chugs of his soda and refilled it again.

He should just pay for the meal and get out whenever he got back to the table. No reason to sit alone at a table and eat fries. Idiot punk. He could get home and play video games all night. He had been stuck on a boss for a while, but maybe he could get Mom to let him turn the internet on so he could get help.

He paused. Makoto remained at her seat, gingerly eating a fry, flipping through his manga again. His brow furrowed.

“Hey, senpai, I thought I told you to go home?” He gently placed the soda on the table.

She blushed up to him. A playful smile played on her pink buds. “I… hadn’t finished the manga.”

Frustration bubbled in his gut. “I already offered you to take it with you. And didn’t you say you had some studying to do or somethin’?” His tone is angrier than he intended, still struggling with the asshole.

Her brow furrowed again over a pained expression. She nodded once and pushed the manga across the table. The pages flipped on their own to a comfortable position. “My apologies for intruding, Sakamoto-kun. Thank you for paying for everything today.” The bleed darkened and he recognized this emotion. He had hurt her.

She grabbed her bag and stood, prim and proper, and bowed to him. Idiot punk. He watched her walk away, down the stairs. As her braided headband disappeared, he cursed himself and sat back down.

His thoughts drifted, going over the day. He had gone wrong in places, but where? How had he hurt her? Of course he hurt her, though. A huge disappointment, an idiot punk, a delinquent with a bad reputation. He got bad grades, had a bad temper that he got from his abusive father, and people thought him weird for his taste in manga and video games. The only friends he had were delinquents like him, people that didn’t belong. He didn’t deserve to be friends with someone like Niijima-senpai.

His phone buzzed. He had been ignoring it all day. Without someone to distract him, he had no reason not to check it.

More group chats; a few direct messages from the other Thieves, including Makoto’s warnings from earlier; something from his track team, an update on Yamauchi’s preferred haunt he hoped; and another direct message from Makoto.

His finger hesitated over her icon. About today read the subject line. Timestamp a few seconds ago. The seconds counted up into minutes.

He sighed and shoved his phone into his pocket, her message unread. The fries had gotten cold, his drink watered down, and he had to put his manga away.

It lay open to a page with two of the main characters holding a small child, looking for all the world like a family. He growled and slammed the book closed.