Chapter Text
Getting a boyfriend had distracted Makoto just a bit. It's not like he completely forgot about S.E.E.S, I mean, how could he forget all that? But, it felt nice once in a while to actually not spend every waking hour trying to better himself or spend time with other people just to make everything work out the way it needed to be. In a painful time loop such as this, he deserved at least a little bit of peace.
When Fuuka had asked him one night if they were going to Tartarus, Makoto stalled his movements. They hadn't gone to Tartarus in a while, he had been too busy thinking about other things to even think about going there.
He couldn't believe he forgot. It ate at his very core. How could he forget his true purpose, trying to stop this stupid time loop from happening? Trying to save his friends from the imminent doom that he ends up saving them from every time, yet can't even save himself.
With his mind reeling, and yet his face neutral, he nodded his head softly.
As he's getting ready in his room, trading his school jacket for his SEES jacket his boyfriend looked at him from afar.
“You know, it's completely okay for you to have taken a break,” He spoke, and Makoto faced away from him to hang his school jacket up where his other jacket had been.
“My entire purpose is to figure out how to break this continuous cycle. I can't afford to take breaks when the end of the year is fast approaching,” He responded.
“Makoto…” Ryoji trailed off, “You've been doing this for eight years, I think you deserve at least some sort of break.”
“I was fine all those years, and I'll be fine now.”
“As far as I'm aware you were depressed all those years-” Ryoji cut himself off when he saw the look Makoto was giving him. So intense.
“It doesn't matter anymore. This is the time I have to stop everything,” He replied, “I am not going to spend another year doing exactly everything I have been doing all over again.”
“But-”
“Ryoji.” He cut him off, letting out a soft sigh and moved forwards, placing his hands on his shoulder, “Stay here. I'll be back after midnight.”
He knew it was a longshot, but at the same time he kind of expected Yukari not to be there. It seemed she was distancing herself even when it came to Tartarus activities. While he couldn't necessarily blame her for it, she was his best healer, so either he would have to heal all by himself, or he'd have to bring someone like Ken or Akihiko to bridge the gap.
The shadows couldn't have been that powerful, considering his eight years of experience, but they were new to the others, so he had relatively tried to at least bring personas that were the same level as them.
Sitting in the Velvet Room he tried to piece together a strategy, and after a couple minutes of thinking he summed the personas he needed and stepped out of the room.
He shifted over to the people that stood there ready and waiting to leave, all but Yukari. Some of them looked at him waiting, while others were focussed on other things.
He cleared his throat slightly and spoke up, “Akihiko, Ken, and…” His eyes made their way over to Aigis, who seemed to stare back at him as soon as his eyes wandered over to her, “Aigis.”
“I will do whatever needs to be done,” Her voice held a sort of coldness to it, something that felt like it pierced a part of him. He was reminded of the pit in his stomach, the taxing way his body felt from the brokenness of their social link. How was he to fix this when it seemed like this was out of his hand?
That didn't matter now. Tartarus mattered. He could worry about that after. His focus cannot be broken now.
Tartarus wasn't hard. It was Tartarus after all. He had been here way too many times than he wished. He knew every single shadow’s weakness and just how to kill them. He had a sense of determination too, something that he didn't notice until someone pointed it out.
After a particular gatekeeper that Makoto had wiped out quite easily, Ken seemed to break the tension when he spoke, “Makoto-san, you seem a lot more determined than usual.”
“Hmm?” Makoto spoke softly, a yawn following quickly right after, “Am I?”
“Leader,” Fuuka’s voice spoke in the air around them, “If you’re too tired to continue, maybe we should just head back.”
Makoto shook his head softly, “We don't have time to do this again. I'll be fine, sleepiness is not unusual for me.”
He was fine. For the rest of the ways up until the border floor he was completely fine. Physically at least.
And yet, there was this tension in the air. Nobody spoke like they usually did. They all listened to his every command, but never spoke. Akihiko seemed to focus on the battles and Aigis didn't look at him as much as she used to before everything. When he glanced at Ken he seemed to feel like he was intruding on personal matters.
But they were fine. Mostly unscathed, other than a particular heady hit that Makoto had taken at their last fight, and what probably had stopped him from grinding any more that night. He glanced at his teammates as they stood grouped together near the stars and transporter. The tension in his friends was obvious, but he didn't know how to fix any of it. He wanted to speak, he wanted to resolve things but…what was he supposed to say to them? What was he supposed to tell them to make them feel better? The truth? That he knew the ending of the story, that they would defeat all the troubles of this world and they would live on?
No. This was his problem to fix. They didn't need to be involved in this.
With that thought, he turned around and walked out of Tartarus, not a word spoken.
When he eventually got back to the dorms a ways after midnight with his headphones on his ears and a tune playing, he didn't even look back as the rest of them filed in. He just went straight up the stairs, yawning on his way up.
When he went into his room he closed the door behind him softly, then moved back to lean his head on the door. His music usually stopped the overflow of his mind at times like these, but it seemed inefficient this time.
When he opened his eyes again, a familiar figure was right in front of him. He blinked his eyes a couple times, and then moved his hand to his music player, clicking the pause button, “Hey.”
“Hi,” Ryoji spoke, his eyes seemed to trail down just a bit, “Are you okay? You have a little something..” He trailed off, pointing at his own cheek. Makoto’s hand moved up and he wiped his thumb against his cheek, looking down on it it seemed there was a red stain of blood.
“Ah,” He said matter of factly, “I'm fine. Healing spells heal wounds, but they don't get rid of the blood stains.”
“Stay here,” Ryoji told him, moving to grab a tissue, then towards the sink to wet it a bit. He turned around to see Makoto with his thumb in his mouth, “Do you always lick your blood off your fingers?” He asked in a tone that made him seem like he was the slightest bit disgusted.
“Why not? It's my blood after all,” He replied, looking down to make sure there was no more blood on his finger.
Ryoji let out a soft sigh as he moved closer, hands moving to hold the other's face so it would stay still, then starting to wipe the blood off his face. Makoto’s eyes found their way up to look at him, and there was something strangely intimate about this exchange. Which was weird to him considering they did more intimate things with one another, like sleeping all cuddled up to one another.
Ryoji touched him with a softness that no one ever touched him like before, and a part of him felt loved, whole. As he stared at him, he could see the care in his eyes as he focussed on wiping the blood off his cheek. When Ryoji finished, he crumbled the tissue in his hand, moving the other hand that was holding his face to the top of his head, and he moved in to kiss his forehead.
Before Ryoji could pull away, Makoto's hands were surging forward, wrapping his arms around him as he held him close. He wasn't used to initiating contact like this, or initiating anything, but he had this need in him to hold him close and never let go.
Ryoji seems a little surprised at the sudden surge, but it didn't take him long to reciprocate, wrapping his arms around him and holding him for as long as he needed it.
Makoto buried his face into his shoulder, letting the familiar scent of his boyfriend embrace his senses, and finally letting him relax fully into his embrace.
What would he do without him?