Work Text:
Makoto couldn’t take her eyes off of Akira.
This wasn’t anything new, on its own. Even before she knew how she felt about the young girl, she was drawn to her in a way that demanded full attention. From getting lost in thoughts of brushing the girl’s thick curly hair, to memorizing the way her glasses framed her silver eyes, to wanting to take her into her arms and never let go, Makoto was always enchanted by Kurusu Akira.
But there was something different in the way she stood next to Futaba, half protecting her from a world that still terrified the shut-in, half being protected by the clinging, attached hacker. One of the first things Makoto remembered about Futaba was being threatened with all manner of real and fabricated digital blackmail, as ‘Alibaba’ promised to bury the Phantom Thieves if Akira ever came to harm.
A dark, wolfish part of Makoto snarled back, She’s mine.
Akira was different when she stood with Futaba. She was still quiet, still gentle in her strength, but in all the ways Akira has wielded her strength to protect her friends, never has she been the stalwart shield she became for Futaba. One would mistake the two of them for sisters by blood, the way the bespectacled girls would jump in front of each other whenever the other was seeming overwhelmed, the way Akira gently coaxed Futaba out of her shell, the way Futaba spoke up for Akira at every moment.
Makoto envied their closeness. She and Sae had never been quite like that.
Makoto herself had struggled to engage Futaba in a casual conversation, and it was infuriating to see how quickly the girl could argue with Yusuke as naturally as breathing. As a senior in high school, the oldest of the Phantom Thieves, and senpai to half the team, Makoto should have an easier time of reaching out to her juniors!
All of this was in preparation for the trip to the beach. Perhaps Makoto could salvage her pride then.
Makoto was in pieces.
Perhaps she should have been more aware of her priorities when the time came for the Phantom Thieves’ trip to the beach, as her attention was unwaveringly on Akira. The purple one piece complimented Akira’s hair and complexion beautifully, and the white flower designs subtly accented her grace. The way the cutoff of the fabric highlighted her thighs… the way the chest was snug against Akira’s breasts.
Oh, Makoto was helpless to look away.
Akira was quick to shy away from any and all attention, holding her arms close to her chest and crossing her legs together. Makoto was torn, wanting every beachgoer to avert their eyes and wanting to make Akira more comfortable. She felt greedy, wanting Akira to be seen, but only by her , and no one else.
She noticed when Akira looked down at the sunscreen Ann had squeezed out onto her hand, gnawing at her lip as she thumbed the dollop of cream.
“Is something the matter, Akira-chan?”
“Oh, i-it’s nothing, Makoto-senpai,” she said, only glancing up at her and back down at the sunscreen.
Makoto pulled out her own specialized sunscreen. “You know, if you don’t like the standard sunscreen, like Ann uses, you could have some of mine. It’s less oily, and sits smoother against the skin. I could put it on for you.”
Akira smiles. “Thank you, that would be lovely.”
As she turns her back to Makoto, Ryuji wolf whistles. “The prez’s makin’ her move! I see how it is.” His goofy grin slipped away when Makoto shot him her meanest glare.
Makoto carefully dabbed sunscreen into her palm and smeared it into both hands. It was only when she started rubbing the cream into Akira’s shoulders that she realized her mistake. Akira’s skin was so soft and smooth, like a baby’s; and Makoto feared that if she weren’t careful, too much pressure could easily bruise such porcelain skin. The thought of bruises in the shape of Makoto’s fingers did very little to calm her down.
When she was finished helping Akira, Makoto sat down on a beach towel and focused on the feeling of slick skin beneath her fingers as the others started having their fun. If she had some privacy, perhaps she could have distracted herself more quickly.
When Makoto came back to herself, Akira, Futaba, and Yusuke were all sitting in the sand, gathering and shaping wet piles into castles. While Futaba made something rounded and bulbous, and Yusuke fixated on meticulous details of his palace, Makoto found herself entranced not with Akira’s work, but with the girl herself. Her hands moving so delicately, smoothly molding sand to her desire, her tongue just barely poking out from her lips, a look of utmost concentration setting her brow and focusing her eyes.
Makoto wanted to hold those hands in her own. She wanted to taste that tongue. She wanted-
“No, no, your proportions are inaccurate! Let me help–” Yusuke pushed Akira’s hands aside, ignoring the whine that escaped her.
Makoto grabbed him by the wrist before she even realized she’d moved. “Yusuke. It’s her sand castle. Focus on your own.”
Yusuke blinked, looking down at his captured wrist, then Akira’s work, and lastly his own. “Ah, I see. I lost sight of myself, Niijima-san. Apologies.”
Makoto let him go and sat down next to Akira. “Are you okay?”
Akira said nothing, staring at her castle where Yusuke had overreached. Tentatively, Makoto reached around to the girl’s (thin, so easy to wrap in her arms) shoulder, holding her close. Akira relaxed into her grip, her eyes fluttering. “Th-thank you, Makoto…” She shook her head a little. “I was just- startled, is all.”
There’s a moment of quiet, as Akira leaned close, breathing steadying. When the silence lasted long enough for Makoto to start feeling self-conscious, she spoke. “What are you making?” she asked, trying to be conversational. “Can I help fix it?”
Akira blushed, tucking her chin in as she mumbled, “I-it’s a bit embarrassing… I wanted to make a castle, one like if… Kamoshida’s weren’t so awful.”
Makoto flinched. “I’m afraid I never saw his Palace, but maybe you could show me what I can do?”
The smile Akira shared with her as she set her to work made Makoto’s heart pound in her chest. Following Akira’s careful lead, the two shaped the sand into sturdy walls and towers, the picture of a steadfast Western castle.
“It’s strange,” Akira said as they put the finishing touches on it. “We worked really hard on this, but thinking about the fact that it’ll be washed away by the ocean… It’s kind of bittersweet, but soothing.”
Makoto’s gaze caught the sight of Akira’s left forearm as the younger girl reached forward. She swallowed, then looked down at their work, and thought about why she was making it. “I think that the act of making something… together, whether it lasts forever or just a moment, is sweet enough for me.”
Akira squeaked and hunched her shoulders, before whispering, “I loved making this with you, Makoto.”
Makoto’s heart clenched tight in her chest. Wanting nothing more than to never let this moment end, she sighed dreamily, “So did I.”
Somehow, the attic that served as Akira’s bedroom felt different, knowing what Makoto did now.
She was the first to arrive to the Phantom Thieves meeting, as she intended to be. She had predicted that after everything they’d spoken of, she would need some time to compose herself with Akira.
The girl herself was sitting at her work desk, fiddling with her tools as she put together items to use in the Metaverse. Makoto watched her delicate fingers at work as she sat down on the nearby couch, the squeaking cushions alerting Akira to her arrival. She didn’t jump, but a frantic tension left her as she smiled at Makoto.
“M-Makoto-chan… it’s good to see you,” she said softly. And as expected, Makoto’s heart leapt to her throat. Akira stood up from her desk. “Here, let me sit with you.”
As Akira sat herself down on the couch, Makoto struggled to find words. “I’m… glad I can sit with you,” she said, but she wanted to say so much more. She wanted to talk about everything they’d said the other day. She wanted to wrap Akira up in her arms. She wanted to press their lips together and–
“Yo, am I late?” Ryuji called up from the bottom of the stairway, and Makoto stamped down on her frustration. She wasn’t due any more of Akira’s time than anyone else. They were here for a Mementos mission, not anything more private. She didn’t want to stop staring into Akira’s eyes, though.
The girls hadn’t yet separated when Ryuji opened the door. He stopped, blinking at them, nearly slack jawed. “I’ll, uh…” He slowly closed the door. “My bad.”
“Oh, um-!”
“I-it’s not what it looks like!” Makoto choked on her own tongue, how desperately she wanted to tell him to leave them be, another second-minute-hour longer.
Akira flushed red, shooting furtive glances at Makoto, but similarly said nothing.
“Oh, hey Ryuji.” Ann’s voice reached the girls on the couch, before the door opened once more. “Hey girls! Room for one more?” Ann stepped into the room heedless of the tension in the atmosphere, dispelling it as she sat down on one of the available chairs.
Makoto and Akira both greeted her in kind, relaxing in their place on the couch as the blonde jump started the conversation, lamenting their list of Mementos requests to knock out for the day.
As Makoto drove the team through the tunnels of Mementos in the Monabus, she tried to focus on the missions ahead of them. She ran the numbers on their stock of healing items, their available stamina for magic. They’d need everything they had in case Akira was in an emergency–
She was distracted. Every item on their list came back around to ‘How useful will this be to Akira?’, ‘Will Akira need this, just in case?’ and more. She needed to get her head together. If she were distracted, and Akira ended up getting hurt because of her, she’d never forgive herself.
They were down to their last target of the day. Makoto found it easier to focus on the fight in front of her, a real and present threat to her safety. Battle strategy came easily, the fast pace keeping Makoto's thoughts from drifting too far.
Although, perhaps it was where her thoughts kept drifting to that gave Makoto the chance to act swiftly.
The target's Shadow became desperate and charged a more powerful attack than the rest. As the team put their guards up, Makoto followed the Shadow's aim directly to Akira.
"GET DOWN!"
Makoto threw herself at Akira, pushing her down to the ground as the force of the attack flew over their heads. She cradled Akira close, as the sounds of the Thieves’ counterattack reverberated. The battle faded from mind as Akira’s hair tickled Makoto’s nose, just under her mask. The smell wafting off of her filled her senses…
“The enemy is defeated!” Mona cheered.
“You two okay down there?” Futaba asked probingly.
Makoto doesn’t hurry to pull herself and Akira up from the ground, slowly putting her feet up under her, still holding her close. Akira shuffles in place.
“Um… we’re fine.” She turns her head to look up at Makoto. “Thank you, Queen.”
Makoto watched those bright eyes twinkle behind her mask, before turning to the others. “We should leave Mementos for the day. That was the last request, after all.” Her grip tightened around Akira’s sleeves, but their leader said nothing to protest.
Makoto was remiss to let Akira go so they could climb into the Monabus, but she persevered. If she reached across to hold Akira’s leg, that was between the two of them.
The Phantom Thieves meeting wound down from Akira’s attic room in Leblanc, but Makoto didn’t really care to notice. She orbited around Akira as if caught in her gravitational pull, watching her and only her.
“Senpai, you coming?” Ann asked from the door, the last Thief out the door.
Makoto shook her head. “Go ahead without me, I’ll be a bit longer.”
Makoto didn’t hear Ann’s reply, watching Akira as she gingerly rubs at a spot on her arm.
"You're hurt," she said. It wasn't a question.
Akira's eyes went wide before she turned away, rolling up her sleeve to reveal bruises on her arm.
Makoto crossed the distance between them in an instant, taking her by the wrist and holding her arm out to check the injury. Her fingers ghosted over the bruises and-
They were the same size.
Makoto blinked at Akira. "I did this."
"I-it's okay…" Akira gently rested a hand on Makoto's arm. "You, you saved me, I… I don't mind them." Her voice was soft and her eyelids fluttered. With a shaky breath she sat down on the bed, Makoto following her without releasing her arm.
"You're exhausted," Makoto whispered, reaching out with her other hand. She laid her fingers atop the bruises they'd left, sparks tingling up Makoto's spine at the thought. "You need food, and rest."
Akira slumped in Makoto's arms. "I-I'll be fi–"
"I'll make dinner for you. You don't have to get up."
Akira shook her head. "No, no, I couldn’t ask you–mmn…!"
Makoto pressed Akira to her shoulder, burying her face in the smaller girl's hair. With a deep breath, Makoto inhaled Akira's scent. The girl couldn't move against Makoto's body, wouldn’t struggle, it would be so easy to-
"Let me take care of you," Makoto whispered, drowning the fire in her belly and the horrible thoughts in her head. Let the two of them stay like this, together, for just a while longer.
"O-okay…" Akira whispered, relaxing and reaching up to hold Makoto close.
Together was where they belonged.