Work Text:
Makoto loved the rain. The rain never faltered. Down and down it poured: relentless, consistent. Never wavering, every drop doing a job and a job for every drop. Tiny shimmers appeared on the water. The light of the dim street lamps was reflected in every little drop- a soul injected into each of them. Makoto hated when the light would reflect off the water. Too distracting, too… personalized. The water had a job- to pour, to drip, to travel down and down and down until it disappeared from Makoto’s view. Even out of sight, she knew the little raindrops would unwaveringly do their job. A “soul” was not required. They were “Pillars of the Community”, so to speak.
Oh, that’s right. She still had homework left.
Snapping out of her reverie, Makoto was once again drawn back to a dimly lit reality. In front of her lay a piece of loose-leaf paper, the sole line on it reading “Explain the role of hypocritical morality in Henrik Ibsen’s Pillars of the Community ”. Personally, Makoto didn’t think anything was hypocritical about the play. He was helping his community- why he did so doesn’t matter.
Taking a sharpened pencil to the paper, Makoto jotted down a bullet point and wrote, “Consequentialism > virtue ethics- expound upon.” She would have “expounded upon” her point right then and there, but the faint pitter-patter of rain distracted her.
She stretched and gave a long sigh, giving herself permission to take a brief break from her brainstorming. It was late into the night: 1:24 AM, to be precise. Makoto relished precision. The sun had set long ago, leaving the faint glow of the crescent moon as her only natural light source. In addition to the quiet yellow light of the street lamps, Makoto had turned on a dim desk lamp to help her write. Behind her, a Buchimaru-kun blanket was neatly folded on the bed, lying beneath three undersized gray pillows.
Books were neatly organized on her work desk. Assigned reading and books read only for pleasure mixed together in a comical pile. Tucked away beneath Pillars of the Community was a biography of Pope Johanna- Maybe education would help her work more effectively with Johanna. The biography, however, lay shut, never picked up or read. There was no time for analysis or self-reflection when that time could be used to save people’s lives.
After a long day of Phantom Thievery, the amount of energy Makoto could put into homework was greatly limited. The constant fights would wear Makoto out, so much so that she often would go straight to sleep without eating anything. She made today a small exception, keeping a tiny bowl of rice on her desk to occasionally pick at. The Phantom Thieves were on their third day of infiltrating President Okumura’s Palace. The futuristic atmosphere was unnervingly pleasant to Makoto. Despite being the twisted heart of a villain, the efficiency at which the place operated was respectable. Sure, it was owned by a greedy, abusive CEO. But Makoto could not deny the impressive way Big Bang Burger operated.
In addition to being the third day they went to the Palace, it was also the third day of working with Haru Okumura. Makoto didn’t know what to think of the girl. Haru was everything her father wasn’t: sweet, empathetic, yet utterly… inefficient. Not the most effective fighter, she would often miss her attacks or become just a bit too overzealous and charge the robots without any strategy. Sure, her passion was admirable, and Makoto appreciated her dedication. However, Haru’s blatant disregard for any sort of procedure made Makoto uneasy.
Despite her occasional distaste for Haru’s actions, there was something about the girl that inspired… something in her. Something deep, something special, something so bright that it would block out the rain and leave Makoto in a dry bliss if she wasn’t careful. She didn’t want to feel this way. Makoto had a job, and that was to defeat President Okumura and save his employees. Her job was not to feel so… strangely about another girl. Every time Makoto looked at Haru, that special something would begin to well up in her. Much to her dismay, it got so severe that Makoto tried to convince Joker to put the Okumura girl on the front lines so the two could work together.
She slumped down in her desk, sighing loudly and slapping her palm on her forehead. Why did she do that? That was so embarrassing. What was even more embarrassing was the way Haru giggled at Makoto after she asked. Makoto’s cheeks turned red. Why was she so flustered? It must be very, very extreme humiliation.
Slamming her palms down forcefully onto the poor wooden desk, Makoto tried her best to focus on the task at hand. Unfortunately for her, thoughts of Henrik Ibsen and Pillars of the Community were blocked out by thoughts of Haru Okumura. Thoughts of her laugh, her bright smile, the way she had a little bounce in her walk. That hungry look in her eyes as she cut down shadows and the way her Phantom Thief attire accented her- No, she needed to focus, not indulge in selfish thoughts of… whatever she was feeling towards Haru. Makoto needed to work, to get her job done and not think of anything else except for how efficient a rate she could get words on the paper.
Refocusing herself, Makoto picked back up her pencil and stared intently at the paper- maybe if she concentrated all of her will into thinking of an idea, one would come up. Her plan failed. The only thoughts that would appear were those of Haru Okumura, not those of Henrik Ibsen or the values of consequentialism over virtue ethics.
After a long 10 minutes of staring at the page, pencil in hand ready to write but failing to do so, Makoto pushed her chair back and walked over to the bed. The blanket was so neatly folded that she hesitated to climb into the bed.
A knock at the door snapped Makoto out of her pondering. To her confusion, the knock grew louder and more desperate sounding. Isn’t Sis still at work? Sae was supposed to be working late into the night on another one of her cases. Unintentionally, Makoto thought back to last month when she unwittingly put her sister’s name into the Metanav. She silently hoped that Sae wasn’t doing anything unethical.
Again, a knock released Makoto from her daydream, prompting her to quickly rush to the front door. Maybe it was Sis after all. Still in her school uniform- Makoto never wasted any time changing- she cautiously opened the door.
Standing there was Haru Okumura.
Soaking wet from the rain, Makoto was met with a defeated-looking Haru. The usually prim and proper 3rd year was slouched over, hand on the door to keep herself balanced. Replacing the usual professional eye contact was a gaze focused on the ground; Haru couldn’t meet Makoto’s eyes. She was breathing heavily, out of breath as if she had come running here. Haru wore her bright pink sweater, now looking dark and dripping wet because of the dim lighting and pouring rain. Her hair faired not much better, the usual fluffy curls soaked and heavy with rainwater. Overall, the heiress looked like a mess.
“M-Mako-chan,” Haru panted. She looked up to meet Makoto’s gaze. Failing to hide her shock, Makoto’s mouth was slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Only when Haru looked up at her was Makoto able to see the sorry state of her eyes. They looked red and puffy- from crying?
Eyes moving across Haru’s face, she noticed a large bruise on her cheek. Come to think of it, there were a few on Haru’s neck too. The more she looked, the more she noticed. On the back of her hand, a small spot on her forehead, right around her eye. Haru was covered in bruises and scabs, ranging from old and healing to bloody and new.
A chill ran down Makoto’s spine. It was only a few days ago that she had met Sugimura, Haru’s fiance. Immediately, the girl was able to put the pieces together.
“Haru, I-”
“Just, please.” Haru tried her best to stand up straighter, taking her arm off the door and putting it behind her back. Quickly losing balance, she stumbled a bit before configuring her legs in a bent position that allowed her to stand as best she could. Haru’s tone still carried traces of the polite heiress she was forced to pretend to be. Easily, Makoto could tell that it was forced, an act meant to make Makoto not worry about her poor condition.
“May I go inside?”
Her usually joyful voice was colored with a depression Makoto never would have expected. Unsure of what to do, Makoto stood there motionless for what felt like an eternity. A long few seconds had passed, both girls holding each other’s gaze. Haru had a look of desperation written across her face, Makoto a look of concern and worry and confusion and what happened to you, Haru?
Time resumed as Haru looked away from Makoto, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Her voice cracked as she spoke, slumping over and wiping her tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mako-chan. I’ll just go somewhere else-”
“No, wait.”
Makoto quickly grabbed Haru’s shoulder. With a small yelp, Haru met Makoto’s gaze. For what felt like the 100th time that night, time stood still as the girls looked into each other’s eyes.
“Sorry, I…” Makoto released her grip, bashfully rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t know what came over me.” And she didn’t. What just happened? Why did she stop Haru from leaving? Makoto wasn’t the most social person- she often rejected company and preferred working to making connections with her teammates. So, why?
It was because of that… special feeling. It suddenly erupted from Makoto’s mouth, an intense urge to see Haru again. The rain had continued, the small overhang in front of the house the only barrier from the cold drops of blackness. Despite how cold it was outside, Makoto only felt that special warmth. Whenever she looked at Haru, her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest, exploding in a rainbow of colorful warmth that would enrapture Makoto for the rest of her days.
“I don’t want you outside alone, Haru. Please,” A friendly smile colored Makoto’s face, a small bit of that warmth now taking shape on her face. “Come inside. I would love to have you.”
The other girl’s eyes lit up with excitement and… surprise? Why was she so surprised? Haru stumbled through the sentence, clearly shocked at what Makoto said. “O-oh, thank you, Mako-chan.” Once again making eye contact with Makoto, a small glimmer of warm hope appeared in her eyes. Even though they were still red from crying, Makoto found a peculiar beauty in those warm eyes of hers.
As Makoto held the door open for Haru, a familiar concern began to well up in her again. She remembered all of those bruises and scabs on Haru’s body. Unless it was a particularly painful injury, blows from the Metaverse couldn’t translate into those in the real world. The only possibility, Makoto confirmed to herself, was Sugimura. She had seen how prone to violence the boy could be, so it came as no surprise that he would resort to beating his fiance. Still, hot anger boiled inside Makoto. How dare he. Instinctively tightening her fists around imaginary brass knuckles, Makoto felt more hate toward Sugimura than she had felt even towards Kaneshiro.
Noticing her aggressive posture, Haru awkwardly walked into the house, holding her breath and keeping her eyes locked on the floor. Walking awkwardly, she tried her best to mask the blatantly obvious fact that standing, much less walking, was a taxing chore for her. Seeing her condition only made Makoto more curious as to how Sugimura had abused her. The curiosity morphed into anger, and, with more anger came more awareness of all of Haru’s injuries: a terrible cycle that deeply hurt Makoto. A little tear in the pink hoodie. A tiny bruised bump on the back of her head. A bloody scab on her ankle. All of these details jumped out at Makoto, causing her to clench her fists even harder and giving her the desire to beat Sugumira a million times harder than he had or will ever beat Haru.
Unknowingly, Makoto let out a small scowl thinking about how much she would love to run Sugimura over with Johanna. A small gasp was heard across the room, snapping Makoto out of her power fantasy. Sitting at the table, arms neatly folded on her lap, was a nervous-looking Haru.
“May- may I t-take off my coat, Mako-chan?” Muttered Haru, not daring to meet Makoto’s eyes and instead staring down at the table, pretending to inspect its craftsmanship.
Quickly realizing how big of a mistake she made, enormous guilt washed over Makoto. Why did she have to scare Haru? And why was Haru so nervous? She quickly shook off the feeling. It was just because she had a rough time with Sugimura, right…?
“Of course, Haru.” She quickly scampered over to the table from the doorway. “Here, I’ll hang this up for you.” Makoto scampered again back to the doorway to hang up Haru’s coat on a tall black coathanger. Seeing Haru’s cute pink sweater on it seemed… wrong. The rack looked cold and clinical, a stark contrast to the wet yet warm jacket.
Finishing her thought, Makoto briskly walked back to Haru. She eyed the other girl up and down, taking in how pathetic Haru appeared. Taking off the coat only revealed more bruises. One on her wrist. One on her elbow. One on her tricep. But Makoto couldn’t focus on that for too long- she didn’t want that weird feeling to come back. Despite her best efforts, she could feel something well up inside her as her heart began to race. Out of anger? Yes, that must be it. She would take revenge on Sugimura by helping Haru.
“Do you want a change of clothes? You must be uncomfortable in those.” Motioning to all of Haru’s outfit, Makoto held a look of pity on her face. As much as she tried to hide it, she felt sincere sadness for Haru. Getting emotional wasn’t a part of her usual prerogative, but, the more she looked at Haru, the more Makoto couldn’t help but get a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Haru shifted uncomfortably in her seat, still unable- or refusing- to meet Makoto’s gaze. “That would be much appreciated. Thank you.”
Despite her best efforts, Makoto was at a loss for words. She didn’t want to make it worse, make Haru more scared than she obviously already was. All Makoto could do was sorrowfully look down and walk to her room, shutting the door behind her.
Now in the privacy of her own space, Makoto clutched at her gut, a look of fury distorting her face. What is this feeling? Warmth flooded her senses, overwhelming the girl until she could think of nothing but Haru. It was fury, a fire powerful enough to burn Sugimura to a crisp. It was guilt, ashes of her past actions haunting Makoto. It was… what was it? Some warm, lovely feeling. Something so bright and so wonderful that operationalizing it with a word would diminish its splendor.
Makoto wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Haru was her colleague, someone she could work with to get a job done and maybe have some small talk with. Getting emotionally invested in any of the Phantom Thieves would only hinder her ability to perform her job effectively. But no matter how hard she tried, there was no rationalizing away the bonfire that ignited Makoto’s heart.
Forcing herself to take her arms off her stomach, Makoto returned to the task at hand: finding clothes for Haru. She picked out a large gray sweater- one that she was particularly fond of. To accompany it, Makoto went searching for sweater pants to accompany it. Wanting to make sure Haru was as warm and comfortable as possible, Makoto ensured that the clothes she picked out were of the highest quality. As Makoto found the sweatpants after a minute or two of searching through piles of neatly stacked pants, she quietly shut the drawer. Grabbing a plastic bag from beside her nightstand so Haru could have a place to put her old clothes, Makoto prepared to confront Haru.
Before Makoto walked out of her room, an intrusive thought stabbed into her brain like a hot iron rod. Would Haru need undergarments? Furiously blushing at the idea, Makoto began to panic. Would it be awkward to hand those to her? Would Haru find it creepy? But Haru would have to wear wet… fixtures if Makoto didn’t bring anything. The thought haunted Makoto’s mind for a few long minutes before she finally decided to go with it. Whatever would make Haru more comfortable was worth it, no matter the embarrassment.
Putting the pants and sweater on her bed, Makoto tentatively picked out white undergarments for Haru. She assumed that would be the least creepy option. Actually, no. Nothing would be creepy. It’s just one friend helping out another. Nothing weird to get worked up over.
The fire in Makoto continued to burn despite her reassurances.
Putting the undergarments in between the pants and sweater as so not to embarrass either of them, Makoto walked out of the room and outstretched her hands to offer the clothes and bag. “H-here,” Why was she stuttering? Why were her cheeks so warm? Why is she feeling like this? “These are for you. Just… just give them back to me at any chance you get. You can put your clothes in the bag. And you can change in my room. If you want.” Makoto added that small addendum to her phrase so as to not sound too pushy. Haru, finally looking up to meet Makoto’s eyes, still kept a nervous frown on her face.
“Thank you. Please excuse me.” Haru neatly got up from the table, pushing in her chair and taking the clothes from Makoto’s hands. With a small bow, the heiress quickly walked out of the room and shut the door behind her.
Once a few moments had passed, Makoto quietly cursed herself. What was happening? To little avail, she willed that special feeling in the depths of her soul to go away, to leave and never come back and to be replaced by the soothing pitter-patter of the rain. Taking a few deep breaths, Makoto made herself calm down. Why? That was the only question Makoto wanted, no, needed an answer to. Why did Haru make her feel this way? There was no logical explanation, no single thing that Makoto could point to and say, “That’s it, that’s why I love her.”
What did she just say?
Panic spread through Makoto. No, she didn’t love Haru. She couldn’t. She was supposed to be independent, someone who operates with a team but only because that was the most efficient way to help people. She wasn’t supposed to get emotionally attached, especially to the daughter of her target. Despite all of her efforts, there was no rational explanation for her feelings.
In the midst of all the chaos, Makoto heard a door open behind her. Stepping out was Haru, dressed in all of Makoto’s clothes and holding a now full plastic bag. What was even more stunning than how Haru looked was the fact that a small smile crept on her face. Makoto was relieved not to see that nervous grimace again.
Awkwardly stumbling into the living room, Haru pulled out a chair and quietly sat down. Makoto could see her picking at her cuticles, nervously fiddling with her hands in desperate hopes that the tension filling the air would suddenly disappear. Neatly folded on her lap, the movement of Haru’s hands constituted the only movement observed for a long few minutes. The tension in the air persisted, Haru sitting in silence while Makoto leaned against the wall, concern coloring her face.
After a cruel silence, Haru finally spoke, her voice a quiet whisper. “Thank you for the clothes.”
She gave a small sigh and turned to look out the window opposite Makoto. “I really appreciate it. I… I can go now, if you want.” Her voice was meek, cracking on the last phrase. Instead of projecting her usual air of playful poise, she was… weak. Slumped over and what looked to be on the verge of tears, Haru bore no resemblance to the confident Noir that Makoto had grown accustomed to.
Not knowing what to say, one thought ran through Makoto’s head: “You can’t let her leave.” Something inside her wanted to beg Haru to stay with her so that Makoto would never be alone again. She wanted to get on her knees and plead for Haru to stay with her. She wanted to be with Haru. Again, that warm feeling came back as her chest tightened. With a newfound determination, Makoto knew that she couldn’t leave Haru alone in the state she was in.
“Please, stay as long as you like.” A smile danced across Makoto’s lips; she couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. “You’re always welcome here, Haru.”
Though subtle, Makoto observed a small sigh of relief in Haru, the girl relaxing her shoulders and smiling just a bit more. Makoto could watch that smile all day. Finally turning to face Makoto, Haru unlaced her fingers, crossing her arms on top of the table.
“Thank you, Makoto.” The use of her full name indicated to Makoto a sincere gratitude that a nickname could not hope to convey. “Please, sit down.”
Surprised at the invitation, Makoto hesitantly pulled up a seat across from Noir. Trying to mirror the other girl’s actions to make her more comfortable, Makoto crossed her arms. For a brief second, she tried her best to force a smile before realizing how fake and embarrassing it must look. Blushing and flustered, Makoto momentarily broke eye contact, causing Haru to tense up.
Trying to break the awkward tension, Haru faked a laugh. “It’s quite nice in here, Mako-chan. Sae-san must be very good at interior design...” Her voice trailed off as if realizing how dull the observation was. Makoto wanted to grab her by the shoulders and yell at her, saying that nothing she said was dull and that she’s the light of her life and that she loves her.
That word again. Makoto couldn’t help but think it: “love”. That warm feeling in her chest- was that love? Unsure about how to feel about her revelation, Makoto slumped down in her chair. The corner of the table uncomfortably poked into her side, and yet Makoto could not will herself to sit up straight. Humiliation and shame washed through her body, carving a path for guilt to come. Why did she have to be so awkward around Haru? Why isn’t she saying anything now? Why is she slumping further and further down into the chair?
“I’m sorry, I really should go.” Haru started sitting up before Makoto shouted at her, outstretching her arm as if reaching out to the other girl. “Wait! Please, stay. I’m…” The words tasted sour in Makoto’s mouth, a vulnerability she didn’t like expressing. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not very used to company…” Makoto gave a fake laugh to try and ease the tension. “But, please. Stay.” Desperation colored Makoto’s tone, her voice cracking with… sadness? Guilt? Hope?
Haru hesitated, eventually slowly sliding back down into her chair. “...Sure,” she quietly whispered, again looking down at the table instead of at Makoto. With all of her heart, Makoto wished and prayed that she would find some magical solution to Haru’s anxiety. She wished she would say the right thing. She wished she could tell Haru why she was getting so flustered. A blush spread across Makoto’s cheeks.
Figuring that it was time to stop dancing around the issue, Makoto mustered all the authority she could into her voice. “Haru, I don’t mean to pry, but why did you come here?” Both girls cringed at how direct the question was. Makoto began to wish again, this time to return to the past and phrase her inquiry in a way that wouldn’t make Haru so uncomfortable. Unfortunately, such a possibility wasn’t ever going to happen, Makoto silently cursed herself for a severe lack of knowledge of how to time travel. Trying to look stoic only resulted in Makoto fidgeting with her hair, pursing her lips as she desperately tried to maintain eye contact.
Haru was not so determined to hold the other girl’s gaze, bachfully looking to the side; The only thing it accomplished was letting Makoto see another bruise hidden on the back of her neck. “I…” Haru started her sentence before getting choked up, tears beginning to run down her cheeks. “I couldn’t stay at my father’s house anymore. Sugimura… he…” The girl burst out crying.
Not knowing what to do, Makoto sat there in awkward silence, digging her nails into her palm. Against her better judgment, she began to speak. “Haru… I…” Desperately searching for something to say made Makoto only feel more and more panicked. Taking a deep breath, Makoto decided, for once, to let her feelings lead.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” Haru’s sniffles began to slow as she wiped a tear from her eye. “I can just be here for you if that’s what you need. I can give you a place to sleep, a place to stay, even. Anything for you, Haru.” Warmth began to creep into her voice, a stark contrast to the sharp and cold rain coming down outside. She silently cursed herself for being so vulnerable before deciding to let Haru’s reaction dictate how bad she should feel.
“...Thank you, Mako-chan.” Haru looked up at her with a genuine smile, one that Makoto would have sworn was warmer than the sun. “I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, Haru.” Before she knew what was happening, Makoto let herself show a genuine display of happiness as a smile spread across her face. Just for a moment, gone was the cold, stoic nature of Queen– a comforting and kind presence had replaced it. Unconsciously, Makoto had reached out her hand across the table, almost inviting Haru’s to join it. Much to her surprise, Haru reached out to hold Makoto’s hand, Haru’s fingers interlocking with hers.
“If you wouldn’t mind…” Haru had calmed down, no longer sniffling or having her voice crack. “Could I talk to you about something?” The girl shifted in her seat. “I just… I really need someone right now.”
“Of course. Anything, Haru.” And Makoto meant it. She could listen to Haru talk for days about anything and it would have been the most enrapturing thing she would ever hear. Sensing the earnestness in her voice, Haru began to loosen up. She relaxed her shoulders even more, squeezing Makoto’s hand for comfort.
“Sugimura… he…” Beginning to get choked up again, Haru gave a brief whimper as she looked away for a brief second. Finally returning her gaze to Makoto’s, Makoto squeezed her hand. It was a promise, a promise saying that everything would be alright and that she was here for her no matter what.
Taking a deep breath, Haru continued her story. “He tried to… proposition me.” Makoto detected a growing anger in Haru’s voice as the story went on. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer. I tried my best Makoto, I really did. But he was so strong.” Tears began to form in Haru’s eyes- Makoto couldn’t tell if they were a result of fury or despair. “I fought back as much as I could. Then, he… He tried ripping my sweater off.” A wry and sarcastic laugh escaped from Haru as she looked down and squeezed Makoto’s hand for support. “He didn’t even use the zipper, Makoto. No, I tried to tell him that I didn’t want it. He… he began to touch me, Makoto. It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt in my life.”
Haru’s voice began escalating from a sorrowful whisper to a loud shout. “He kept going, Makoto. Why, Makoto? Why did he keep going?!” Breathing heavily, Haru stared daggers at Makoto, desperate for any sort of answer that would have validated what happened. Makoto could only look away. Catching her breath, Haru relaxed herself. “He began to reach under my sweater… He pulled my hair and made me look at him. ‘Now, you’re going to be a good little housewife and do as I say, got it?’ That’s what he said. It wasn’t loud, Makoto. No, it was so quiet. So, so quiet. A venomous threat. He knew he didn’t need to yell to hurt me. I cried, Makoto. I sobbed. He wiped a tear from my eye. It was a terrible feeling, his thumb against my face.”
Her voice began to grow in intensity once again, becoming manic and desperate. “So I slapped him across the face. I… I didn’t know what else to do. What else could I do? Just sit there and take it? No, no I’m done with that…! I won’t let him touch me anymore, Makoto! I can’t take it!” In any other situation, Makoto would have felt extreme pain at the way Haru’s nails began to dig into her hand. At this moment, however, an uncomfortable numbness washed over her. A shiver ran down her spine as nausea began to take over.
“After I hit him, he slammed my head against the bedframe. He began to choke me. I thought I was going to die if I didn’t submit to him. But I’m never submitting, Makoto. Never again. I can’t . So I pulled his hair and scratched his face.” A calm resolve replaced Haru’s previous fury, as if she had calculated this plan from the beginning. “He called me a bitch. I didn’t care, I couldn’t care. I ran out of the room as fast as I could, but… but he was faster. He caught up to me and grabbed my leg. I was lucky enough not to hit my face, but my leg wasn’t so fortunate.” She gestured down to her leg with her free hand. “I could barely walk. I still can barely walk. I think I was high on adrenaline because I don’t know how I could have run out of there so fast. It was like my life depended on it- it really did. I ran and I ran and I ran until I was far away from the house.”
“But why…” Haru’s voice began to crack, no longer stoic but instead beginning to get angry and desperate, like a cornered wild animal unable to comprehend why it was being hunted. “Why did he touch me, Makoto…?” Haru instinctively moved her arm to cover her breasts. Makoto felt sick. “Why did it have to be me? I thought people said it was supposed to feel good… when someone touches you like that, I mean. It didn’t feel good. It felt dirty, I felt like I needed to take a shower and wash myself forever and for the rest of my life until my skin decays after I die.” Haru’s voice peaked on “die”, a loud yell that echoed throughout the room.
Unable to keep up appearances anymore, Haru began to sob. “Why… what did I do to deserve this, Makoto? Please…! Please tell me there’s some reason!”
At a complete loss for words, Makoto sat there, silently staring in shock and horror at the girl sitting across from her.
“I’m sorry. That was… unbecoming.” Much to Makoto’s chagrin, Haru released the vice grip on her hand, folding it neatly on her lap. Haru regained her usually composed posture, making a show of sitting up straight. Without much effort, Makoto could easily notice a blush of embarrassment on Haru’s cheeks. She was unable to completely regulate her breathing, resulting in Haru trying to hide her sharp, rapid breaths by avoiding Makoto’s gave.
Without thinking, Makoto grabbed Haru’s chin, lightly nudging it up to make Haru meet her gaze. A look of surprise colored Haru’s face, her mouth slightly agape and eyebrows raised in confusion. All that could be seen on Makoto’s was determination and a small warm smile.
“I won’t ever let him hurt you again, Haru. I swear it.” Time froze. All of a sudden, as if coming back to consciousness, Makoto quickly retracted her hand from Haru and blushed a deep red. “I’m so sorry Haru- I, I don’t know what just came over me.”
Much to her surprise, a Haru let out a soft giggle- pure and refreshing, like a campfire in the midst of a thick forest. Makoto, taking her turn to be surprised, furrowed her eyebrows, not expecting such a positive reaction. “Don’t apologize.” Slowly and intentionally, Haru leaned forward and held out her hand to grab Makoto’s chin, closing the gap between the two girls. “It was cute of you, Mako-chan.”
Without her consent, a large blush colored Makoto’s entire face as she felt her cheeks start to warm. Bashfully looking away, it took Makoto a few seconds to recuperate and stumble across a response. “I- Um- Thank you, Haru.”
Methodically moving her hand from under Makoto’s chin to her reddening cheek, Haru whispered, “I never knew you blushed so easily.”
Makoto’s face only grew hotter.
All she could do was awkwardly laugh, prompting an innocent giggle from Haru. As she retracted her hand, crossing them on the table, Haru’s face grew red as she smiled. “You know, Mako-chan,” The smile started to fade and her eyes slightly drooped as if recalling a terrible memory. “I never really thought of you like,” Haru vaguely gestured towards Makoto. “This.”
Clearly puzzled, Makoto cocked her head to the side. Had she done something to upset Haru? Was that comment earlier today about asking to fight alongside Noir really that weird? Panic arose in Makoto. How had she messed up this time? She became hyperaware of the space around her as the room felt like it was closing in.
“What do you mean, Haru? Not that I’m denying anything, I’m just… curious, I guess.” She dug her nails into her palm beneath the table, terrified that she had done something to hurt Haru. Something to put out the light of her life, to cover an innocent candle that sought only to brighten her day.
“I-It’s nothing big, I guess I just…” Haru was once again unable to meet Makoto’s gaze. “I just thought that you were… different, is all.”
Embarrassment and shame welled inside of Makoto. She really had done something wrong, hadn’t she? Her nails dug deeper and deeper into her palm. Also unable to meet the eyes of the girl opposite to her, Makoto looked away. What else could she do? Not that looking away made anything better- nothing could. Makoto made a mistake, she really was useless and failed at something that was probably so simple and she-
“Are you okay, Mako-chan?” Haru leaned forward, staring inquisitively at the panicking girl across from her. Not noticing until now, Makoto now saw how flushed she looked. Her cheeks were burning, and she was slumped low into her chair. Scratch marks filled her palm.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.” Taking a few deep breaths, Makoto tried to anchor herself back to reality. Her posture began to improve as she tried to project an air of competence despite a complete lack of faith in herself. “I’m sorry for whatever I did, Haru.” Makoto stopped herself there, not saying anything else like “I would sacrifice anything to see your smile and I’m sorry if I took it away from you” or “You’re the most precious person I’ve ever met, Haru” or “You make me feel this weird thing- I think it’s love but I’m not sure.” Instead, she kept it short and prayed that Haru would accept her apology.
“Oh no, it’s fine Mako-chan, really.” Makoto could see the sorrow in Haru’s eyes, hidden behind years of learning how to hide emotions in the name of poise. Another chill ran up her spine. Sure, Haru said it was “fine”. But, Makoto saw Haru’s body language. She saw how slumped Haru suddenly became, how she began to pick at her nails. It wasn’t fine.
“If I may, can I share something with you?” Haru looked hesitant and… scared? It was a terrible emotion, and Makoto wanted to replace it with that usual radiant smile she had grown accustomed to Haru having. As quickly as she could, Makoto answered, “Y-yes, please do. Anything. I promise I won’t be offended.” She hoped Haru couldn’t pick up on the desperation in her voice, the fear that Makoto caused any sort of despondency in Haru.
“Okay, well,” Haru continued to pick at her nails, now faster and more intensely. “You were my last choice of whose houses to visit.”
Embarrassment and shame clouded Makoto’s usually rational brain. As a feeling of panic began to set in, her eyes widened in a realization: “Haru is scared of me”.
“I didn’t tell you this early, Mako-chan, but I tried visiting every other one of our teammates' houses before I came here.” Haru let out a small laugh, a feeble attempt to break the heavy tension. “That’s why I was so drenched. I still am pretty wet.” The laugh petered out slowly until a dead silence came over the table.
Pursing her lips and looking away from Makoto’s shame-filled eyes, Haru continued her story. “First was Ren’s house. I thought I could sleep on the couch, but Ren wasn’t home yet. He must have been spending time with someone else. So…” Hesitance crept into Haru’s voice as if she didn’t want to share with Makoto the full details of the past few hours. “I waited there for around 30 minutes in the rain. Standing got… painful, to say the least.” Another awkward laugh. “I’m glad I got to sit.”
Makoto wanted to say something, anything- An apology, a condolence, a word of encouragement. But nothing came out. No, Makoto could only sit there, drowning in a sea of guilt as the rain kept pouring down on her. She could almost feel the individual drops as they fell hard enough to leave bruises.
“Next I tried Sojiro-san’s house, but he didn’t respond. I assumed he and Futaba must have been sleeping, and I didn’t want to disturb them.” Another raindrop hit Makoto’s head as everything came crashing down around her. A revelation threatened to unravel Makoto at any moment.
“I considered trying Yusuke’s dorm, but I searched the policy for guests at Kosei High and no visitors were allowed to stay overnight.” Noticing how uneasy Makoto was growing, Haru faked a smile, laughing and saying, “I’m very glad my phone didn’t die. That would have been…” The fake smile faded as Haru remembered the rest of her night. “...inconvient.”
While Haru sat in silence, Makoto was acutely aware of the storm both outside the house and in her head. Thunder crashed as the rain picked up.
“After that, I went to Ann and Ryuji’s houses. Both of them were so kind as to agree to let me stay, but their parents didn’t share the same sentiment.” More rain began to fall as Makoto began to get sucked beneath the waves.
“Then,” Haru sniffled, fighting back tears as she began to process the disastrous night. “I came here. You were my last choice, Makoto. Not that I don’t think you’re capable, but…” A titanic wave began to form in the distance, sending Makoto’s panic into overdrive. Somehow, the rain found a way to fall even faster.
“You never seemed the most… personable. I didn’t think you’d let me in or want to help.”
Makoto was sucked under the ocean as the wave hit her. Rising, rising, and rising still, the water level grew so high that Makoto had no hope to swim to safety. She had to confront the obvious.
“When we’re in the Metaverse, you always appear so distant. It’s almost as if it’s all business to you. Honestly, Mako-chan, you never struck me as someone who would want to help me.”
Unable to swim above the water, Makoto faced her truth: her unwavering dedication to her job had backfired. Suddenly, the rain falling down outside seemed foreign and dangerous, like a great predator to be avoided at all costs. She was wrong- the thought was like a punch to the gut. Makoto had been so focused on completing her mission, on changing Okumura’s heart, that she was unable to help the people who needed it the most. Memories flooded her brain. Memories of her rejecting Mementos requests because she thought they would get in the way of the change of heart. Only ever bothering to heal her teammates when they sustained critical damage- who cared how they felt? After all, they could still fight. Somewhere along the way, Makoto thought, she had lost sight of her purpose.
Haru’s soft voice snapped Makoto out of her panic, bringing her back to reality. “If you don’t mind me asking, Mako-chan, why did you become a Phantom Theif?” Haru innocently asked her question, genuinely convinced that Makoto didn’t care about helping people. The realization cut into Makoto like a knife.
Finally forcing herself to speak, Makoto began. “I wanted to help people. But at some point, I don’t know when, it changed. I just thought of getting the job done as efficiently as possible.” Guilt colored Makoto’s voice- it was her turn to hold back tears as the realization of her disillusionment hit her. “I didn’t care about the other Thieves. They were just there to help me do my job.”
Makoto looked up, meeting Haru’s eyes, eyes full of concern and pity for the other girl. “But not anymore. I need to start taking control of my own life, and that doesn’t mean only caring about how efficient we can be. It means caring about my friends- about you.” Warmth enveloped Makoto’s body at the revelation, sending her into a bliss and tranquility previously unknown to the girl. “And you helped me realize that. Thank you, Haru.”
Both girls smiled, reveling in the presence of one another for a precious few seconds. “It was my pleasure, Mako-chan.” Makoto could recognize the warmth that enveloped her in Haru. They both took a moment to appreciate that special feeling.
Haru yawned, something that Makoto found adorable. “Would you mind if I stayed the night? I… I don’t want to go back.”
“Of course not, Haru. Let’s go in my room.”
Getting up from the table that she could have sworn she had spent decades sitting at with Haru, Makoto led the other girl to her room. Opening the door to the neatly organized bed, Makoto urged Haru to get in. “Please, take the bed. You’re the guest, after all.”
A mischievous smirk colored Haru’s lips. “How about we share, Mako-chan?”
Catching Makoto completely off-guard, Haru giggled. A small, warm blush colored Makoto’s face. “How radiant”, she thought.
“I- I wouldn’t mind. Would you be okay with that?” Makoto’s face had turned an even brighter red, reader than the fire that she felt burning inside her– Fire that evaporated the rain outside, leaving only the two girls to enjoy each other's company.
“Of course.” Haru looked adorable when she smiled. She was perfect, she was the source of that wonderful feeling bubbling up in Makoto. Acknowledging it felt… satisfying, like finally finding the perfect quote for a research paper. Promising herself that she would no longer ignore her or her team’s feelings, tranquility washed over Makoto. She was free. Free to express herself, free to rebel against the impersonal order that she had wasted her life trying to uphold.
Climbing into bed without hesitation, Makoto ruined the perfectly folded blankets. No, not ruined. Improved. Because Haru was here now, sharing the bed with her.
The bed was small, designed only for one person. The girls had to lay very close to one another, something that neither complained about. The heat of the blankets combined with Haru’s body heat left Makoto feeling completely content. No longer was she sinking in a wine-dark sea, but the sun had come to dry out all of the water that threatened to drown her.
Exhausted from a long, traumatic day, Haru fell asleep in minutes. Cuddled up next to Makoto, she could feel Haru’s stomach rise and fall with every slow breath. The only thing keeping Makoto up was the harsh sound of the rain hitting the window. Instinctively moving closer to Haru at the sound of the rain, she took a deep breath and prepared to sleep.
Makoto hated the rain. The rain was impersonal. Down and down it poured: relentless, consistent. Never wavering, every drop doing a job and a job for every drop. A job it barely comprehended. Why did it drip? Why did it rush down to the bottom of the window? Focusing on one specific raindrop on her window, Makoto noticed a subtle reflection of light. Beautiful. The light imbued the rain with purpose. No longer did the rain fall without thought, without consideration. Now, the rain had meaning. The empty shell has been imbued with a small flash of intention. A little light to keep it going, a soul that spread warmth throughout the cold, dim water. One little drop of sun made it realize what it dropped for. It dripped further and further for that light. It dripped for Haru Okumera.