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“Are you sure he asked for me?”
Mitsuru nods. “He did.”
“I don’t understand. After I told him what happened, I thought he'd want to stay away.”
“Well…” Mitsuru clicks her tongue trying to find the words to say. It only took Ryoji joining the team for them to be acquainted with each other, their fewer encounters only amounting to Ryoji trying to hit on her.
And going from surface-level interactions such as those to this was definitely…awkward. But, with the help of time and assistance from Makoto, she was able to speak to the appriser normally and vice versa.
“Our leader has always been unpredictable. but you two seem closer than a lot of us here. Emotional support would help in speeding his recovery.”
“I’m so sorry, Kirijo-senpai.”
“Hm? For what?”
“For what happened.”
Mitsuru smiles, taking a couple of steps closer to put a hand on the shoulder of their newest member. “You already apologized. No one was hurt, Ryoji-kun. You need to forgive yourself for that.”
“How’s Sanada-senpai?”
“He’s fine, he barely got hurt,” Mitsuru says with a wave of her hands. “He’s a lot stronger than he looks, you know.”
Ryoji walks from one direction to another outside the boys’ dorm room, muttering to himself a mix of assurances and doubts. He could feel the sweat gathering up in his hands, gripping the ends of his scarf as he frantically fiddled with it.
“I think you should see him,” Mitsuru says as a last word with a smile and steps downstairs.
His grip grows tighter as nails dig into his skin. If one member was okay with him seeing Makoto, then it should be fine, right? Getting over himself, he finally opens the door and meets Makoto’s gaze when he enters.
“…Hey.”
“Hi.”
Ryoji pulled up his scarf close to his face to conceal the growing heat from his cheeks, propping himself down to sit on the chair he always sits on when he’s checking on Makoto. “Sorry. Did we wake you?”
Makoto sighs as he rubs his eyes. He must have just woken up. “No. Also, I told you to stop apologizing.”
“Um, has Kirijo-senpai given you your meds?”
Makoto nods. “You don’t need to change me, either. And I’m well enough to feed myself.”
“That’s good.”
…
“Are you okay?”
Ryoji’s eyebrows lift at the sudden question and points to himself, mouth agape. “Me..?”
Makoto makes an effort to look to his left and right. “I don’t see anyone else here.”
Ryoji weakly chuckles and smiles. Classic Makoto, always looking out for others more than he looks after himself. “I’m fine.”
“Are you settling in well?”
“Yeah. Everyone’s been so nice and welcoming. But If I’m being honest, I feel like they’ve been too nice.”
Makoto tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
“They’re acting like nothing happened. Like I’m their …friend.”
“You are a friend.”
“But I’m not human.”
Makoto looked like he was about to say something, but felt it best to clamp his mouth shut.
Ryoji curses himself for making things awkward again. But this is what he wanted, right? He planned to distance himself from Makoto. If this was a sign it was working, then he has no right to complain.
Ryoji does a rhythm as he softly pats his thighs to occupy himself, looking anywhere but in Makoto’s direction. In his peripheral vision, he notices the leader hasn’t torn his gaze from him, and the thought makes his heart race. The taller boy clears his throat in his fist, unsure of what to do next.
“So if you don’t need anything else, I’ll just leave you be.”
Ryoji points his thumb towards the door and is about to step out, until-
“Wait. I want something.”
Ryoji’s body moved on its own as he sat back down next to Makoto. “Anything, Makoto-kun. What is it?”
The leader pouts as he looks away from Ryoji, the tip of his ears having its share of crimson. “…You’re calling me Makoto-kun. I don’t like it.”
Ryoji frowns. Does Makoto not want to be referred to so informally? Well, that makes sense. They’re not who they were anymore, there was no reason to be friendly. Still, his chest ached at the finality.
“Oh. Okay, what do you want me to call you? Would you prefer Makoto-san?”
“Dearest,” Makoto whispers while playing with his bedsheets, barely audible but enough for Ryoji to register. “Call me your dearest.”
Ryoji was at a loss for words.
While spending time together, Ryoji noticed something…different about Makoto. Despite his current state, he seemed a lot more open and confident. He was a lot bolder too, with the way he’s initiating conversation, finishing Ryoji’s sentences this time around . He even felt bold enough to demand things, such as insisting Ryoji listen to his favorite songs alongside him.
And every time he asked, Ryoji accepted without question. How could he ever say no? It became even harder to refuse when it was just the two of them.
“M-Makoto-kun, I…” Ryoji was full-on red. His scarf was not enough to hide it all, but it looked like he wasn’t the only one. Makoto lifted his blanket to where his face was and attempted to hide the growing hue. It was so cute that Ryoji had to fight everything within himself not to pinch his cheek. Or God forbid, kiss it. How could he have been so lucky to be the reason for such a gorgeous sight?
“That was…” He chuckles, embarrassed. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”
“Was it a joke, then?”
His face seemed nonchalant as he asked, but Ryoji knew Makoto well enough to tell that he was struck by that, which made him wanna alleviate any sadness immediately .
“No, no, not at all!” By instinct, he grabs Makoto’s hands and holds them close to his chest. It takes the other by surprise the way he blinks eyes widened. Damn it, what was he doing ? He wasn’t allowed to do this. He swore to himself, but it’s not like he could let Makoto think he was messing around.
“I meant every word, dearest. I just didn’t think you’d want it.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t deserve to call you that.”
Makoto’s chest tightens at how Ryoji says it as if it was a fact.
“…I don’t deserve you.”
Ryoji was still not looking at him, and it annoyed Makoto. He squeezes Ryoji’s hands to get his attention but as he does so, the scythe wielder registers their position and flinches, pulling back like he was burnt. The lack of cold hands in the warmth of the other made both feel empty.
Ryoji stayed like that for a while, but eventually, he mustered up the courage to look at Makoto again. “I’ll continue calling you dearest because you asked. But you-“
“-Should want better things? I do.”
Ryoji chuckles. He reaches out his hand, only to pull back with uncertainty. Makoto notices his hesitance and nudges him to continue.
With Makoto’s consent, he reaches over to touch his cheek, thumb circling his skin. Makoto’s lips curve into a weak smile and he leans to Ryoji’s touch.
He wishes he could see Makoto smile more. He should have more chances to be cocky and confident. The appriser just wishes he was able to see this side of him in better circumstances.
But now, all he can offer is himself, for them to use and abuse as much as possible to get to the top of Tartarus on the final day. It’s all that he’s good for right now.
“You should get some rest, dearest.”
“Mm. Later. You’re still here.”
Ryoji nods, feeling flustered at how blunt he’s being, at least more than usual. “Is that all you want from me?”
Makoto opens his eyes to meet Ryoji’s. He grabs his other half and holds him in place. His gaze turns hooded. “No.”
“What do you want, then?” Ryoji says with a whisper, low enough only for them to hear. Unconsciously, he leans forward until they’re inches apart.
The leader says nothing and only pulls Ryoji towards him. The taller one lets himself be pulled until he’s straddling him on the bed. Makoto tugs Ryoji down to his level and plants a soft kiss on the boy above him, and Death’s breath catches.
Makoto moves on to kiss each of his cheeks, the edge of his lips, and then his jawline. Each movement was soft, slow, and treated with delicacy.
Makoto was taking his time with him. Both boys were reveling in their brief moment of intimacy with an act they never got to explore before, but certainly thought about for many nights, even invading their dreams.
Makoto pauses his kisses midway. It was pathetic how obvious Ryoji was when he leaned forward to chase his lips. But when he looks back, he notices Makoto staring at him sadly, and only does he realize the tears flowing down his face. He quickly wiped it with his sleeve.
“Sorry.”
The leader grew silent and Ryoji was ready for Makoto to come to his senses to stop whatever they were doing. If it wasn’t him who was gonna establish boundaries, then it might as well be Makoto.
But instead, Makoto held his face again. As a continuation, he plants a peck on his tear-stained cheeks.
Ryoji couldn’t believe this was happening. He never thought in a million years that it would end up like this. He didn’t deserve it, to have Life’s attention.
“Stop thinking.”
“Makoto-kun-“
“- Ryoji .”
“…Dearest.”
Before he could say anything, Makoto yanked Ryoji by the scarf to kiss him on the lips; lacking the grace of his previous kisses and was instead replaced with haste and need.
Ryoji was stunned. Just when he thinks he fully understands what is going on, Makoto grabs the taller boy by the shoulders and flips both of their positions, making Ryoji the one lying down on the bed and Makoto on top.
After he does so, Makoto hisses and feels the pain in his abdomen. In an instant, Ryoji props himself up to check on him. “Makoto, you’re still hurt-“
“-Shut up.” Makoto pushes him back down and dives back in, practically smashing his lips on Ryoji.
He gives in to his fallen nature as he melts into his dearest’s embrace. He arches his body with Makoto’s until they’re both sunk into the bed, their arms wrapping around each other until they feel merged as one with Ryoji trying his best to be careful with his injury.
Makoto separates from Ryoji’s lips and wastes no time putting them on his neck, planting hard kisses like he doesn’t mind if he leaves a mark. He’d welcome it. Because how often can one say they’ve made out with Death?
“Makoto-” Ryoji sighs. He winces when he feels Makoto sink his teeth in and smiles dumbly. He finds Makoto’s brattiness cute. “Dearest…It’s almost midnight.”
“So?”
“My other form-“
“-Is still Ryoji. I’d kiss him too.”
Ryoji freezes, his entire face beet red. Makoto must have sensed his condition and started snickering, his breath tickling his neck as he did so.
An imaginary lightbulb lights up on top of the scythe wielder’s head, taking his other half by surprise as he flips their positions again and holds Makoto’s arms over his head. The compromising position prompts the leader to flush, and the sight makes Ryoji smirk.
“Then I guess I should make precious time before he takes over.”
He needs to stop. He should stop. But when his dearest starts sighing in between kisses, all of Ryoji’s rationale goes right out the window. All he can see, think, and feel is Makoto .
The boy couldn’t believe that at this moment, he was capable of giving Makoto something that wasn’t suffering or pain. That he was able to give him a semblance of satisfaction. His vision narrows to the light of his life, the reason for his existence. He’ll give anything for him. Do anything for him.
Ryoji’s life, his limited, pointless life, is for Makoto’s to have.
With their lips still locked, Makoto frees himself from Ryoji’s hold and his hands linger towards Ryoji’s forearm, moving to his biceps and then to his back. His fingers continue to trace the back of Ryoji’s neck as he deepens the kiss, and Ryoji shivers at the touch. He lets out a small noise when Makoto continues to roam down to his chest just below the collar of his shirt.
Makoto was the first one to break the kiss. The two were equally disheveled and breathless as they examined each other, both in pleasing disarray. He traces Ryoji’s jawline and admires his features with his hand back to Ryoji’s cheek.
If Death was supposed to be terrifying, Makoto didn’t feel it. He was never really scared of Death to begin with, having been acquainted with them for the majority of his life.
But Makoto knows for sure now. Death isn’t something to be feared, it’s to be held. It’s to be accepted. And now, he had it in his hands to hold.
He shimmies to the side of his bed so his other half can have space, and Ryoji complies. Makoto buries his face in his neck, kissing the marks he left there. He wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him closer.
Ryoji wraps around Makoto’s frame as well and kisses the top of his head. He combs his azure hair with his fingers, making the boy below him buzz in euphoria.
“What I want…is for you to stay.”
Ryoji exhales heavily, still trying to catch his breath. He makes room to hold Makoto’s hand and squeezes it as affirmation that he’s with him. “I’m here, dearest.”
“No. Stay with us .”
“I…” Ryoji sighs. “I can’t.”
Makoto’s face shifts to a somber expression, his grip tightening. “You have a choice on how to live before the Fall. Just like everyone else.”
Ryoji almost scoffs. He begs to differ. He’s a different case and he wouldn’t even consider himself a human at all. All of that was a facade, and his real role is all that he-
“None of this was your fault. Your last days should not be spent alone. We’re here for you, too.”
For the past weeks since Ryoji joined SEES, it felt like an exhausting game of push and pull between them. Fate was pulling them by the strings and they were being dangled in front of each other to feign a sense of hope. But just when they were about to get somewhere, they were pulled apart once again.
Over and over, the gods and universes alike have made it clear that all the two can have is a taste. A small taste of what could have been.
“Stay.”
They could work with that.