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Ren saw his own breath emerge from between his lips as a hot cloud, drifting out a few inches before dissipating into the aether. The silence was crushing. As it was, he was shirtless, shivering in the frigid November air, his legion bruises, cuts, and gashes exposed to any errant eyes. Only one other pair of eyes accompanied him in LeBlanc’s loft at the moment, belonging to Tae Takemi, a medical specialist Ren had gotten to know well, through a series of fortunate (and sometimes far from fortunate) events. Her presence sparked anxiety and no small amount of dread, though it wasn’t her own influence. No, the fear lent itself to the slim, cold needle she was currently fiddling with, threading a line of nylon through the minuscule hole on one end.
Or, that’s what Ren imagined. The good doctor had pleaded that she prepare everything behind Ren’s back, claiming that given the circumstances, actually seeing what she was going to use would spoil his resolve, ruin any chance of him staying composed before the operation.
“It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?” Ren had asked, quaking as he removed his shirt.
Takemi gave a half-smile, lathered in guilt and pity. “It will. A lot.” She set her small zip-up kit down on his bed, taking a seat behind the wounded boy. “That’s why I don’t want you to see it beforehand. You’ll get afraid and start shaking. That will only make my job harder.”
Given the cold, shaking was inevitable. Ren had tried to warm the place up by closing the windows, and setting the heater up in the center of the room, but the time was quickly approaching for Takemi to commence her task, and he was still absolutely freezing. Naturally, he made one last effort to help himself. He texted his beau. He hadn’t seen her in almost two days, now. He was growing starved for the sight; he craved her touch, and knew that it would help him retain his composure somewhat. If not, it would at the very least allow him to drop his guard, and cry if he needed to. He would have considered asking Morgana for help in that regard, but he’d gone back to sleep once Takemi had arrived, and was currently curled up on the couch next to the television.
Ren was nudged forward a short distance once he felt a soft fabric begin to rub across his back, top to bottom, left to right. It was damp, and a little colder than he’d have liked, and once the sensation dragged down his spine, he quivered, drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth.
“Sorry. Your back is still coated in blood, and I can’t do anything until I can actually see your wounds properly.” Takemi droned, probably absorbed with avoiding whatever openings on Ren’s back there were, not inclined to cause the boy any further pain just yet.
The warmth of the sticky, semi-dried blood was wiped from Ren’s back, and it was the first time he was briefly upset by the absence of such ichor. When he was first aware of it, jolted awake in the small hours of the morning to sticky, darkened sheets, he cursed he re-opening of his wounds. They never had time to heal properly along the events of receiving them, being rescued by Sae, showering and feeding himself, and falling asleep. What was first a disgust and source of anguish was now a point of comfort in its warmth, and even so, it was being wiped away like so much chalk on a blackboard.
Morgana was revulsed as well, when the small thing saw the deep, crimson, wet blotch spattered across the surface of Ren’s mattress cover. “S-so that’s… inside humans?”
Ren had tried to laugh at the time, only wincing and breathing a weak sigh, unsteadily. “Yeah. Seems like a lot, doesn’t it?”
Morgana nodded, frowning. “It really does. How do we fix it?”
“The same way we fix any injury, I guess. Takemi.” He answered, pulling the sheet from his bed, piling it in the corner with the rest of his clothes yet to be washed.
Indeed, since Takemi’s clinic was a mere walk away from LeBlanc, surely she lived close by as well. Ren’s phone possessed the woman’s mobile number, and he put it to good use, though she sounded agitated to say the least. Once he explained the circumstances – phantom thief business gone wrong, he’d said – she told him to stay put, unlock LeBlanc’s door, and wait for her to gather what she’d need to sew him back together. There was one crucial, disheartening catch, though – Takemi couldn’t supply any sufficient painkillers since the recent rise in patients had sapped her stock. It was a strange experience to have Ren’s own virtuous deeds come back around to screw him over, but even so, he didn’t regret a single action for a second. It was simply the way things had to be.
Takemi’s voice drew Ren’s attention as she spoke in a gentle hum. “Do you have a rough idea of when your girlfriend will be here?”
“I don’t, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I just don’t want to leave you open for too long. We might have to start without her if she doesn’t arrive soon.” Ren heard from behind him, at the same time feeling one of Tae’s icy fingers tentatively poke at the ridge of a cut splayed out on his left shoulder blade. Ren shivered at the touch, but any protest was cut off by a continuation of the older woman’s sentence. “Is she like you?”
Ren raised an eyebrow, and half turned his head to look at Tae from his periphery. “Like me?”
“A phantom thief.”
“She is. Don’t let that get out.”
A chuckle. “I’ve kept your secret, haven’t I?”
“Have you?”
“You ought to have a little more faith in me.”
It was Ren’s turn to laugh. It hurt like hell. “I guess you wouldn’t be here this early if I couldn’t trust you.”
Takemi’s fingers lifted from his skin, and traveled to a different wound. “These are bad, Ren. I’ll have to disinfect them. It’ll sting.”
“Do it.”
Ren vaguely saw the doctor nod, then he returned to staring at his pillow, bracing for the sting. It came, and it felt like a bite, as if something hot and sharp had rent a portion of his sensitive, exposed flesh from the breach in his skin. He couldn’t help but curl his fingers into fists, and groan through clenched teeth. He was lucky he had drawn his tongue out of the way, otherwise he very well may have bitten it, if not through it. The pain numbed itself, like adjusting to the sizzling heat of steaming water, and Ren felt the cloth dab a few more times against the ugly, red, raw muscle, and he moaned in the hopes of relaxing himself. It worked briefly; his breathing steadied, his jaw relaxed, his shoulders dropped. Everything went right back to that tense preceding, though, when Takemi lifted the alcohol (he assumed) coated cloth, and placed it right back over another wound.
Ren shouted this time, the continued pain being too much for him to resist. He lurched forward, and dug his fingernails into his knees. “… I-I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t think I can deal with that anymore.”
“Ren, I have to clean the wounds. Thoroughly.”
“I know, I know, just… can it really not wait?” There was a strain in his voice, and he felt a lump in his throat. The bottom lid of his eyes was filled with tears, and he blinked, letting them slide out and down his cheek. “It stings like hell.”
“I know…” Takemi’s arms fell limply into her lap, still holding the small bottle of rubbing alcohol she produced from her kit, and the folded cloth still damp with the stuff. “It has to be done before I stitch you up. I’m sorry.”
The whole ordeal would be so much easier to endure if Makoto was there with him, Ren thought. If he could feel her touch, hold her comforting hands in his own. If he could see her, stare into those molten eyes, those beads of garnet and ruby. Even just hearing her voice would be a kind mercy.
Hearing… her voice.
“Takemi… I left my phone on the workbench behind you,” Ren twisted as far as his failing flesh would allow him to, trying to face the good doctor. “Could you please pass it to me?”
Takemi obliged, and Ren flicked his screen on. “Checking on your girlfriend?”
“That too.”
Even with his eyes hazy from the tears, he easily navigated to the phone’s contact index. Like so many times before – it really had become procedural memory at this point – he flicked a thumb up the screen, and stopped it about a second later, landing squarely on Makoto Niijima’s own number. Before tapping the ‘call’ button, he directed his focus back to Takemi.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
She smiled back at him. “Whatever you need to do.”
Ren nodded in thanks, and tapped started the call. Once the dial tone rang through the receiver, Ren placed the phone to his ear. “When you’re ready, Doc.”
Despite Ren’s expectations, Takemi didn’t immediately begin to swab his cuts once more, instead tilting the bottle into the cloth, re-applying the sterilizing liquid. Ren stopped watching the doctor’s actions when he heard Makoto’s voice over the phone. His lips curled into an involuntary smile.
“Ren?” Her speech was quietened, almost a whisper, but more of a smooth grumble.
Ren responded in his own honey-coated tone. “Yeah, it’s me. How are you, baby?”
“I-I’m good. Still on my way, my train has almost reached Yongen station.” There was a break as she cleared her throat. “Are you okay? Has Takemi finished already?”
“No, no. She’s here, but I needed to hear you. It hurts…” Ren gasped at feeling Takemi’s fingers press themselves against the skin beside one of the gashes along his spine. He heard her whisper a short ‘I’m starting’ before the familiar, unwelcome burn of alcohol on his exposed flesh. His reaction was less fierce, and he instead hummed melodically, almost a nervous laugh, yet still dripping with loathing for the pain. Eventually, the agony lessened again, and he spoke into his phone again. “Sorry. She’s disinfecting the cuts, right now. It hurts a lot.”
“Aw, baby… I wish I could be there sooner.” Ren heard her sigh on the other end. Even though it was probably an expression of exasperation and disappointment, he welcomed the sound all the same, choosing instead to process it as a sweet crescendo. It helped.
“Well… you’ll be here soon. That’s enough for me.”
“…I don’t like hearing you in pain, Ren.”
“Would you like me to hang up, let you travel in peace?”
Makoto’s voice reached a higher octave as she denied the boy’s suggestion. “No! No, it’s okay. I want to make it all easier for you. I know…” She giggled, a single beat. “I know you’d do the same for me.”
“I love you.” Ren didn’t know what part of his brain forced those words out. He didn’t intend to. He meant it, surely, but…
“Th-that was… sudden. I love you too.”
Ren felt the cloth leave that wound, and Takemi whispered a not-so-secret ‘aw’ as she tapped the space beside the next and final wound, lower down his back on the right side.
“Takemi’s moving onto the last one. Are you almost here?”
“Mhm. The train just pulled up. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Ren winced and groaned when the doctor began the swabbing process all over again. The wound she worked was a lot more tender, being closer to Ren’s side, almost right over his pelvic bone, and so he couldn’t keep his composure. He flinched away from the palpation, twisting in the process, which of course caused more pain across the dully aching bruises dotted around his torso.
“Ren! Are you alright?” Makoto blurted.
“…Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. The good doctor here just hit a sensitive spot.”
“I’ll stay on the line until I get to LeBlanc, okay?”
Ren nodded instinctively. “Yeah. Thank you.” He hoped the grimace stretched across his mouth wasn’t audible in his speech.
Ren took several seconds to steady himself before Takemi leaned in and asked if she could continue dabbing the still as of yet untended laceration on his side. Ren reluctantly nodded. Mercifully, the second time was a little more forgiving, only stinging the slightest bit more than he expected. It was still enough to cause Ren to emit a grunt, but he held himself in place, focusing on his conversation with Makoto.
“I can’t wait to see you, baby.”
Ren could hear the smile in her response, as well as a shy giggle. “I-I can’t either. Just a little more.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Hm?”
“You got out of the casino. Did everyone else? I haven’t heard from them yet.”
“Yes. Yes, they’re all fine. Probably a little shaken up and anxious, but alive and well.”
Ren closed his eyes, pictured his friends. What would it be like when he saw them again? Hopefully they didn’t squeeze him too hard. “That’s good to know. You’re not hurt?”
“Ah, a few scrapes, that’s all.”
“And your sister?”
“She’s coping. We… talked.”
No doubt. After the conversation between the older Niijima sister and Ren on the way out of the precinct, he supposed Sae had some serious grilling to do. Of course, it was Ren’s fault she found out at all, having blurted out clues in a sleepy trance. It might have been worth it, though, since the dreams he had while fading in and out were delightful; mirrors of what he wanted most at the time. Ren thought that if he were to fall asleep while Takemi was prodding away at his wound, he’d most likely envision the same set of circumstances. A small, hormonal part in the further reaches of his mind visualized something a little more risqué, but he pushed that away with a dumb-looking grin, knowing he’d never be able to keep up with her in his current state. Frankly, she’d probably urge him to sleep once Takemi’s job was done.
“Hey, baby?”
“Mmm?”
“Can…” He’d asked so many times before, but the words snagged on the back of his tongue. “Can you stay the night?”
Ren had fallen asleep lonely, before. Sure, he had Morgana as company, but he laid at the foot of the bed, providing no real warmth, and given the circumstances of their acquaintance, the wrong kind of affection from that which he truly craved. At that point, he wanted nothing more than to curl up next to Makoto, perhaps drape an arm over her, push his face into her collar, and hold on tightly. Instead, a slowly warming bed, and the gentle purring from a few feet away. It was nice, and helped him sleep, but at the time, he didn’t really want to sleep. If Makoto was there, he’d spend countless hours talking to her, whispering ‘I love you’ and planting sleepy kisses on her cheek as he liked to do.
Ren’s heart nearly leapt from his chest when Makoto opened that particular door of possibility with her next words. “I’m way ahead of you. I’ve already got my bag with a clean uniform in it for tomorrow.”
Ren laughed. “Baby, you’re awesome.”
“…Okay? I mean, thanks?”
“I-it’s just that… I don’t know if you have any idea how much that means right now.”
Makoto chortled. “Well, you can tell me in a few seconds. I’m at the door.”
“It’s unlocked. Can you lock it once you’re in?”
“Sure.”
The phone line cut as Makoto ended the call, and Ren heard an echoing click from downstairs, closely followed by the repetitive chiming of a small bell. The hurried sounds of rubber soles on the floor, making their way closer, giving way to the stairs creaking. Makoto’s head peered over the floor as she rushed up the stairs, maneuvering around the banister. Her body came into view, and Ren was surprised to see that she was still wearing her full Shujin uniform. She locked eyes with Ren and beamed at him, a certifiably room-illuminating smile. Ren returned a softer grin as Makoto bounded across the room towards him, dropping her bag along the way, and setting herself next to him on the bed.
“Oh my god, Ren…” She reached down and took both of his hands into her own. “It’s so good to actually see you!” Now that she was closer, Ren could see her smile was quaking, and there were pink tear-streaks running down her face, to her jaw and chin.
Ren heard Takemi hum a laugh behind him as he leaned forward with pursed lips. He slipped his left hand out of his lover’s grip, placing the palm on her cheek. Makoto pushed herself forward into his kiss, and they began to launch their lips into the same dance they had learned, memorizing the steps over months of practice, yet tasting sweeter with every rehearsal. Ren felt the familiar, stimulating sensation of the tip of Makoto’s tongue pressing against his bottom lip, trying to find a way in, but she pulled back after opening her eyes, finally noticing the presence of Takemi sitting expectantly behind them, albeit still with her own smug smirk. Ren delighted in watching Makoto’s cheeks flush pink.
“S-sorry…”
The doctor held up a hand. “It’s alright. I understand the feeling.” She placed both of her gloved hands on Ren’s shoulders, settling the boy’s posture in a comfortable way for her to continue the daunting, bloody task before her. “However, the sooner we get this young man sewn up, the sooner we can all get some sleep.”
“R-right. Ren, are you ready?”
The black-haired boy bit his lip, and looked down, nodding grudgingly. “Just… one more.”
“One m-” Makoto’s question was cut short by Ren’s lips connecting with her own again, and the last word melted, becoming a warm moan into the boy’s mouth. Ren felt one of the girl’s hands come up to caress his cheek, and he placed his fingers over it, holding it against his own face while he tasted her.
In the end, Makoto was the one who had to physically pull away, since Ren had no intention of stopping; with every oscillation he let himself draw further into her until they were side by side, bodies pressing into one another. A short cough came from the astoundingly patient doctor behind Ren, and Makoto placed her other hand on Ren’s opposite cheek, pushing his lips from hers. When Ren looked at her again, she’d turned a deeper shade of red, and the mist they both exhaled at an accelerated pace twirled and twisted between them, reminiscent of their kiss.
“R-Ren, we’re not a-alone…” Makoto quietly stammered.
He knew that, obviously; he just didn’t care. Let Tae see.
“I feel blessed to have witnessed that, but I need to put the stitching in. Otherwise, all the disinfecting I did will be for nothing.” The doctor prodded.
The broken boy wasn’t incredibly fond of the idea that he’d have to sit through all that stinging and burning again, and so he sucked in a deep breath to steady his wildly beating heart. Nodding and humming with a tone of reluctance, he leant back until his back was straight again, and shifted further towards the end of his bed, where Takemi was sitting.
Makoto crept forward to follow him, still holding one of his hands, when she murmured. “Oh, I brought some basic analgesics. For the pain.”
Tae shook her head. “It won’t help immediately. It’d be better to take them after the procedure, to help the lingering ache.”
One of her hands was behind her back, and Ren spied the trail of thread spiralling out from where her hand would be. He guessed she was trying to keep the needle out of his view. It might have helped, had Ren not already been plagued by vivid imagined exaggerations of cruelly sharp replacements for the needle, borne of an overactive and somewhat terrified mind. Knowing that he didn’t even want to see what the needle truly was, he brought his attention back to Makoto; an easier sight to process, with the soft curves of her chin, the even softer set of lips, and the cute, petite nose set just above those lips. Her hair, too; that gorgeous, silky nest Ren would slide his fingers amidst when they slept together. He envisioned that as the needle went in.
First, it was just a poke. He winced when the point thrust through the fold of skin around the rim of a cut. Makoto saw his anguish, and squeezed his hand, covering his knuckles with her other. The pain in his back was unpleasant, but it was akin to the sharpness of a vaccine injection, or the process of drawing blood - nothing more than a splinter.
“Are you okay, baby?” Makoto asked in a hushed tone, peering at him from under steepled brows.
Even though he was chewing the corner of his lip, and the bottom lid of his eye was twitching involuntarily, Ren hummed and nodded. “Mm. It’s… I’ll manage.”
It was an honest assurance – he intended to manage. However, he quickly discovered the worst of his suffering was yet to come. He felt the thread start to slide through the new opening in his hide, and he scrunched his face up. There was already a stinging behind his eyes, and he stuttered a gasp as a tear dropped onto the blanket between himself and Makoto. The girl reacted by moving just a little closer and grabbing his other hand, gripping it just as tight as the other one.
“Hey, hey… I know…” She purred. “Baby, come on, look at me.”
Ren did, through blurry eyes. He tried to garner a weak smile for her, which brought a smile to her face in turn.
“I know it hurts…” She relinquished her grasp on his hands, instead cupping his cheeks. “It’s alright… I’m here.”
Ren bobbed his head, part in thanks, part in weakness from the almost vitriolic pain on his back. He whimpered when Takemi pierced the opposite fringe of that particular cut, and groaned through clenched teeth when he once more felt the thread weave through not only the new hole, but the first one as well. There was a sickening wet sound accompanying the slide, too, which he tried to tune out by focusing on his own breathing. It didn’t help, since each inhalation and exhalation was ragged and labored, causing him more unease.
“M-Makoto… c-can you please talk to me?” He strained. “I need to hear your voice.”
“What about, baby?”
“I d-don’t know,” His voice quivered as the fourth pierce occurred, and another couple of saline drops fell from his cheeks. “Anything. Your day.”
Makoto hummed, considering. “My day? Let’s see…” When she seemingly decided on what to speak of with a proud, albeit whispered ‘ah!’, she clapped her hands back over Ren’s own. “Sis and I spoke about… you and I. She seems to be okay with it, for the meantime.”
“That’s good to hear.” The corner of his lips curled.
Ren had no small supply of anxiety over how that particular conversation would go. His own encounter with Sae was enough to make him sweat from fear, but Makoto was the woman’s sister. There might have been higher standards involved, not to mention that the biggest secret of all had come out – being that Makoto was a phantom thief – and surely that alone was bad enough. The added shock of her dating the leader of said group; that made Ren worry for Makoto and Sae’s relationship.
That was the truth of it. Ren was concerned about the bond between the two sisters, since he knew Sae was the only family Makoto had left. If Ren’s love drove a stake between the two of them, he’d never forgive himself.
“So, Sae let you visit me tonight?” The pain had moved to the second wound on his spine, after a quick snip from Takemi’s scissors was applied to the end of the thread on the first gash. He barely felt it seal up.
Makoto shook her head, and slunk into her shoulders. “N-no. I had to sneak out once she was asleep.”
Ren remembered the short text exchange he had sent about an hour ago. Their first reunion of words. As small as it might have seemed, the eagerness and relief prominent in her texts brought him great comfort. “R-right, I recall you saying something like that.”
Takemi was beginning to work quicker now, since Ren had adjusted somewhat to the discomfort, and she had obviously found her own rhythm. “Can I interject for a moment?”
“Um, sure.”
“You said your sister’s name was Sae? Like the prosecutor?”
Makoto raised a brow. “Y-yes, that’s her. Sae Niijima.” Makoto’s eyes widened. “O-oh! I haven’t introduced myself, apologies. I’m Makoto.” She reached a hand past Ren’s vision.
“I’d shake your hand, but…”
“R-right. Sorry.”
Ren found himself with one free hand since Makoto had released her grip, so he promoted it to his beau’s hip. He didn’t restrain himself to settle for the fabric of her shirt, either; he needed to feel her skin. He lifted the hem just enough for him to slip his palm under, and laid it flat against the rounding of her pelvis. The shirt slid down, covering his hand to the wrist. Ren felt Makoto jump a little at the touch.
“Sorry. I should have asked.” Ren mumbled. He could feel goose bumps across the silky surface of her skin.
“No, it’s fine, baby.” She smiled at him, bringing her palm to rest over his hand.
Ren’s hand was cold, but Makoto’s body heat warmed it up noticeably quick. He was thankful for that warmth now, and imagined he’d be even more appreciative of it later tonight. His mind followed through, and supplied him with comforting images of the two cuddling once all of this was over. Spooning, perhaps. Ren was fonder of facing her while they slept, feeling her breath on his lips, their foreheads touching, and their arms draped over or wrapped around one another. Takemi’s voice – and another snipping noise to herald the completion of her work on the second wound – refocused his attention.
“I’ve seen your sister in my clinic a few times. She comes in every so often to purchase codeine; she says her work gives her headaches frequently.” Takemi chuckled under her breath. “I remember once, she came in, all grey clouds and gloom. I assume she had just come from this café, since there was coffee froth on her upper lip. She didn’t notice until I pointed it out.”
Ren smiled at the image, while Makoto giggled, rocking forward with the laugh. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Dead serious.” The curl of the doctor’s smile was perceptible in her voice. “I said, ‘I like the new edition, but you looked good without it as well’. She had no idea what I was talking about, so I showed her in a desk mirror.”
“That’s hilarious! How did she react?”
“Bashfully.” Takemi tapped the outside area of the final and most tender wound, the one Ren had been dreading the entire time; the one on his side. “I won’t lie to you, Ren. This one is going to really hurt.”
“…I know.” He groaned.
“Do everything you can to fend it off. I can’t have you moving, since the flesh is softer there. I can’t afford to make a bad pierce.”
“I can’t even flinch?”
Takemi shook her head, grimly.
“Ren.” Makoto’s voice accompanied the rustling of the blankets beneath them, and the boy turned to witness his girlfriend hauling herself closer on her knees before resting herself on his lap, a leg on either side of him.
“What are you-”
“Keeping you still. Come on, hold me.” Despite the bold action she had taken, Ren saw the creeping crimson under her eyes, even while she held her head low out of possible embarrassment.
He wrapped his arms around her midsection, and let his head roll forward, burying his face in the crook of her neck. There, his olfactory senses were assaulted – though that might be too harsh a word – by an exquisite scent. Peach and vanilla, subtle as it was, filled his nostrils, and he moaned into her neck. He recognized the bouquet as belonging to a perfume he had gifted to her a few months past. It was good to know she had taken to it.
Makoto followed suit, folding herself into an embrace, with one hand on the small of his back, and the other on the nape of his neck. “It’s going to be okay, baby. Scream if you need, squeeze me, anything that helps.”
“I’m sorry that you have to see this, Makoto.”
“Please, don’t be.”
Ren felt every muscle in his back tense up, constricting with the agonizing sensation of that blasted steel point perforating the squishy flesh of his side. Of course, the added tension only made the pain worse, so he followed Makoto’s advice. He screamed. His hands curled into fists, tugging at the cotton of his lover’s turtleneck, bunching it up between his fingers. His arms constricted around her as well, his elbows locking, and he pushed his head further into her shoulder.
Takemi didn’t let up with her task, probably wanting to finish it quickly to lessen the amount of time the boy spent suffering. Makoto was doing an outstanding job of holding him in place, since the hand on Ren’s neck had drifted up into his hair. Ren was crying into Makoto’s neck, his teeth chattering as he shivered from both the cold and the pain, his whimpers muffled by the girl’s collar.
“I-I know, baby, I know it hurts…” She hushed him, rubbing what part of his back wasn’t bruised or stitched up, up and down. Gently stroking his spine. “You’re so strong, Ren. You can do this.”
The boy in pain nestled further into the warm comfort Makoto provided, still sobbing as he felt the needle stab at his skin again and again, with any respite between each sensation being ruined by the added innervation of the thin thread slipping through every new perforation created by the doctor’s skilled hands. He hoped that he wasn’t hurting Makoto with how tight he held her. It was a vise-grip, the most rigid embrace the two had ever shared. After what seemed like an eternity to Ren, the pain stopped with a soft popping noise. Well, in truth, it didn’t stop – the pain persisted, but its intensity plateaued.
Takemi’s voice entered his ears as a low drawl. “Okay… it’s done.” Ren heard the doctor unzip the kit she had brought, then pop open something that sounded suspiciously like a Tupperware container.
Makoto gently eased her clutch on Ren, and the boy did the same. He must have looked like a mess, because as soon as Makoto saw his face, she held his head between both hands again, planting a quick kiss on his lips.
“Oh, sweetie… You did so well.”
“…It still hurts…”
Makoto nodded, patting one of his cheeks, and rose from Ren’s lap. She reached to the space on the floor beside his bed, and hauled her bag up onto her leg – then began to rifle through it. From it, the brown-haired girl produced a small, thin, white box which she placed in front of Ren.
“I’ll get you some water, okay?”
Ren managed to muster a frail smile even though his bottom jaw was still quaking from the bout of tears he had suffered through. With that, Makoto vanished down the stairs once more.
“You didn’t tell me she was pretty.” Takemi teased.
“I have good taste.”
The doctor snickered. “Oh, careful, cowboy. That’s a high horse. Wouldn’t want to fall off it.” She zipped up her kit, but not before Ren slowly turned to her, accounting for the suturing on his back. He didn’t want to tear it.
“Can I see it? The needle?”
Takemi puzzled at him. “…Sure.”
She reopened the kit, and brought a small container into Ren’s view. It was clear – nothing fancy – but inside it, there was an extremely slim sliver of metal, thin on both ends. It was a crescent shape, almost, and unlike the needle Ren had envisioned, this one didn’t have an eye.
“Were you hoping it would look like a sewing needle?”
“…Yeah. Or something more vicious.”
The doctor guffawed. “That would kind of ruin the whole point, wouldn’t it? They make them like this to minimize tissue trauma when the needle slips through completely. Also, the thread just pops off – it saves surgeons having to have an off-hand cutter.” Takemi mimicked the motion with an empty hand. “We just give it a good yank, and it’s done.”
Makoto’s footfalls caused the stairs to creak, and she came back into the attic with a glass full of water, striding over to Ren before sitting down next to him and handing over the cup.
“Thanks.” Ren murmured, popping a couple of tablets from the medicine tab in front of him. He swallowed them quickly, chasing them with the lukewarm water and taking a deep breath afterwards.
“Alright. I’m done here. Ren, listen close.” Takemi slid the rubber gloves from her hands and began to stuff them into her kit. “For about twenty-four hours, do not get any of those wet. No baths, showers, pools; not even rain. After that window, shower only for short times, but dry it immediately afterwards.” She zipped up the kit, stood up, and slung the small bag over her shoulder. “If you come down with a fever in the next two days, you call me. Same thing if it starts oozing too much, or if it swells up. Got it?”
Ren nodded diligently.
“Try not to wear anything too tight on the area as well. Loose-fitting shirts. And, obviously don’t put strain on it. The suturing is only so strong.” The doctor began to walk to the stairs, shoes knocking on the wooden floor.
Makoto spoke, taking a step towards her. “H-how much do we owe you?”
Takemi stopped, turned to face the two, and met Ren’s gaze. Then she snorted a laugh, and continued on her way.
“Makoto, she knows.”
“Wh-what? Knows what?”
Ren rose from his seat at the foot of the bed, groaning as he straightened his back out after rising to his full height. “Knows we’re phantom thieves.” He exhaustedly plodded over to Makoto and took her into his arms. “Thank you so much for being here, baby.”
A moment went by with nothing but silence, bar the steady breathing of the two lovers, wrapped in a warm embrace. Ren was still shirtless, he remembered, prompted by a small squeak from the decidedly shorter girl whose head was pressed against his bare chest. He contemplated letting her go so she could cool off, but decided the hug was far too pleasant to break off. Thankfully, Makoto warmed up to him, powering through a fluster, nuzzling her head from side to side. Ren felt her hair rustle against his torso, and he brushed a hand through that hair, feeling the soft strands between his fingers.
He hummed a laugh, and leaned down to press a kiss into the top of her head. In the same instant, Makoto had tilted her head up, so his kiss landed squarely on the tip of her nose. That made her giggle and pull away, though one of the hands set on Ren’s back slid down to his own hand. Quicker than Ren could follow in his tired, pained state, their fingers had become entwined with one another, and his beau pushed herself up onto her toes, pulling Ren in for a proper kiss with a palm behind his neck. It was sweet, like chasing bitter medicine with a teaspoon of sugar; it made him forget about the echoing ache in his back for a moment. On the reverse, he was vividly aware of how close they were standing, with their bodies pressed flat against each other. That intimacy undid him, at that stage, and he loosed a sigh through his nose, his chest deflating as he closed the space it left in its absence.
Truth be told, he didn’t think their reunion would be under these circumstances; he imagined meeting during the day, not in the small hours of the morning, he hoped to be wearing actual clothes, instead of loungewear bottoms and nothing else. Even Makoto was still dressed in her uniform from yesterday. Still, she was there – that was enough for him, it was all he needed now. Besides, the situation and circumstance had a certain romance to it; when Makoto responded to his text to let him know she was on her way, he appreciated the lengths she committed to in order to make sure he was happy, healthy, and safe. That fact alone made Ren fall in love all over again.
Makoto broke the kiss, and cleared her throat. “You must be really tired.”
“U-uh, a little.” Ren lied. He was utterly spent; the crying had stolen all of his energy, and he was ready to lay down and succumb. He just didn’t want to seem too eager to hop into bed with Makoto, for some unknown reason. Gods know they’d shared a blanket in secrecy enough times for it to be a common occurrence, even if the majority were just short cuddles, with no sleep between either of them.
“You go on ahead and lay down, I want to change out of…” She gestured to all of herself. “…This.” She waltzed over to her bag, took the straps in one hand, and made her way down the stairs.
Ren just watched. His eyes were magnetized to her, he couldn’t pull his focus away from her until she had disappeared. Her presence had soothed him, and now that he was out of the throes of agony, he was able to fully appreciate her again; her considerateness, her shy beauty, and simply the aura she emanated when she was around Ren. Whenever she was near, he felt comfortable, but on edge at the same time; as if she were constantly measuring him, but also very much partial to what she saw. He knew the judgement was just a product of his overactive imagination, but it lingered – he wanted to be the best man he could be for Makoto.
His head dipped forward, and he threw it back in response, overcome by the millstone of fatigue. He let himself stumble back a few feet before lowering himself onto his bed, painstakingly raising his legs and sliding them beneath his pulled-back sheets. The blanket was cold, chilled from the early morning air, but he knew it would change if he just huddled under them. The pillow, too, the pillow was a godsend; nice and fluffy, just how he’d woken up to it an hour and a half ago.
The creaking of the attic stairs signaled his lover’s reappearance, so he tilted his head to look in that direction. The girl was dressed in a loose-fitting set of lightly colored, pastel-shaded loungewear; baggy sweatpants, and a t-shirt about two sizes bigger than it needed to be, with a small graphic along the bottom of it depicting a panda posed as if it were running across the hem of the shirt. She also seemed to have accounted for the cold, and donned a pair of thick, fluffy socks.
Ren couldn’t help but smile, even though his eyes were already half closed from tiredness. “…You’re cute.”
“I’m also very cold.” She replied, bounding over to the bedside. “Come on, make room, please.”
Ren obliged, gently hauling himself further in the direction of the wall, vacating a space on his single bed for a second person. Makoto climbed in next to him, pulling the fold of the blanket over both Ren and she, nestling into whatever her boyfriend wasn’t occupying of the small pillow. The result; Ren pressed firmly into the wall, and his lover spread out across most of the bed, usurping his comfortable position.
Ren cleared his throat, playfully poking the girl’s upper arm. “Hm?” She turned her head to see the cramped form of her boyfriend, shoulders squeezed up, looking at her with a tired, endearing grin. “O-oh!”
Makoto inched a little closer to the outside edge of the bed, giving Ren enough room to relax and shuffle closer to her without surrendering any of his own space. Still, because of the singular pillow underneath both of their heads, their noses touched when they craned their necks to look at one another. Ren watched as Makoto once more went beet red, the blushing skin over her cheekbones taking on a matte-like appearance under the moonlight filtering through the cracks of the window above Ren’s bed.
“…Makoto,” Ren grumbled, lazily. “The absolute last thing I want right now is you to feel uncomfortable with touching me. I won’t lie…” Ren stopped for a moment, pondering. Then he twisted onto his side, facing his sweetheart and sliding an arm under the space between her neck and the pillow, such that Makoto’s own arm was draped around him. “…I need you, tonight.”
Makoto sighed, pushing her face into Ren’s hair, rubbing his scalp with a cheek. “I know…” Ren was now cuddling into her, in much the same way that she had snuggled under his arm dozens of times before.
Makoto had said she always felt so safe and comfortable in his embrace, especially sleeping. Overnight, Ren would roll further into her, hour by hour, until she was practically enveloped by him; wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and boyfriend. As far as he could tell, she liked it. Now, he could see why. Warm coverings above, the wall at his back, and a strong, beautiful human being between him and the darkness of his wide, open room.
He laid his head on her chest, and listened to her heartbeat. Apropos to his own, it was far calmer than usual. He expected it to be thumping wildly, since it was the basis he had come to recognise; she even came out during a date, telling him that she needed a few minutes of space because she felt like she was having a heart attack. That was one of their earlier dates, so Ren didn’t have the courage to tell her that he felt the same way. Now, though, the realization that they had become so comfortable with each other, so tranquil, warmed him.
Makoto slipped the fingers of her left hand into the set that Ren had left resting on her stomach. “Do you feel okay? Are you still hurting?” She asked, and Ren fell to pieces on the inside, struck once more by her unrelenting consideration.
“A little. This feels… right. Like it’s the only thing I want in the world, at the moment.”
She giggled sincerely. “I’m glad I can make you feel that way, for once.”
Ren was glad, too. “I… I love you, Makoto.”
As his eyelids became too heavy to fight, and the soft pulsing of his lover’s heart lulled him to sleep, he heard Makoto whisper to him before she pressed a kiss into his forehead. “I love you too.”
Ren dreamed, vividly, that night. His vision wasn’t focused on a place, time, possibility, or person; no, it was a feeling. A sensation. The familiar sensation of healing; whenever he’d break a bead in a palace, whenever he took one of Takemi’s shots in its final stages, even the simple use of lemon tea for a cold. The warmth on the inside, spreading outward, growing in intensity until it was a numbing flame; a gentle flame. In the fires, he saw his beau’s eyes, gazing at him softly, earnestly. Even in a dream, it brought him to his knees. There, on his knees, he stayed.
His eyes only opened to the sound of her voice, too. Still craving the cuddle, he squeezed his arms inward, but only found empty sheets, with no trace of the girl he loved between them. Her scent was still on the pillow, in the blankets that were pulled up to his cheeks, and in his hair. Though he was able to open his eyes, they were still squinted from the light of the sun which beamed from behind him. Through the glare, he was just able to make out the figure of Makoto sitting on the side of his bed, still dressed snugly, holding her phone to her ear. Still in a sleepy stupor, Ren shimmied forward, curling his arms around her waist, resting his head beside her thigh.
“…Yes, of course. Thank you.” Ren caught the last few words of Makoto’s conversation with whomever was on the other end of her call, uttered in hushed tones. She lowered her device, tapping the screen to end the call, her thumbnail clacking as it made contact. “Good morning, baby.” She purred, setting her phone on the shelf beside the bed, and running her fingers through the recently awakened boy’s hair. He almost purred himself, the sensation was that pleasant. Her fingertips massaged his scalp, and he tightened his grip on her waist in response.
“Morning…” Ren’s mumble was muffled by the cotton adorning Makoto’s leg.
“You still look tired. Go on, hop back in bed. I’ll be with you in a moment, I promise.”
“Don’t you have school?”
“I… just called in sick.” Makoto pivoted herself, lifting a knee onto the bed so that she could face Ren better. “I want to spend the day with you, make sure you’re okay.”
“…Your perfect attendance…”
“Is less important than you, right now. Besides,” Makoto leaned down to kiss Ren’s cheek. “I’m going to be moving on to college in a few months. One or two days won’t go amiss, I’m sure.”
Ren smiled into the girl’s leg. “What in the world did I do to deserve you?”
Makoto parted Ren’s locked fingers and set them on either side of her as she stood up, causing the mattress to decompress and bounce momentarily. She bent over towards the end of the bed, where she had left her belongings, and produced a fluffy, storm-blue towel. Slinging it over her shoulder, she began to make strides towards the stairs. Ren noticed she was still in the habit of rolling her feet as she walked over the wooden floor of the attic, trying to stop it from creaking too much. Perhaps… there was still some comfort to learn.
“I haven’t showered since about this time yesterday, so I’m going to go do that really quick. I’ll be right back, okay?”
Ren nodded on his horizontal axis, still laying with his head positioned on its side. As he did, Makoto disappeared down into the lower floor, and the sound of the bathroom door squeaking on its hinges echoed through the building. He sighed through his nose, letting his eyes fall shut again.
The past few days had been exhausting, probably to the both of them; they had to look each other in the eyes and say ‘goodbye’, not knowing if they would ever see each other again. Ren was assaulted physically, beaten, drugged. Makoto fell under her own psychological onslaught, spurned by a restless mind and a worried heart. Given their roles as phantom thieves, they barely had any time to themselves, to unwind, and take in whatever rare moments of peace came through. Since they knew Akechi’s plot ran deeper than initially suspected, Ren was aware that soon, they’d be on the job again, swept up in the midst of another palace, perhaps. He had a lingering fear that the worst was yet to come. But for now?
For now, they had the peace. They had the quiet. The gentle light of morning, and each other.
For now, that was enough, and plenty.