Chapter Text
From an outside perspective, Makoto was cold and distant.
He doesn’t talk much, but undoubtedly he finds other ways to communicate to his teammates.
Primarily through touch.
It started with light touches here and there, the usual kind that you don’t really think about unless you’re some love sick fool.
Soft touches like a hand on your shoulder to get your attention, or lightly moving you to the side if you’re in Makoto’s way instead of just telling you to move.
But soon it would evolve into something that would be unconventional to anybody who didn't know Makoto personally.
The light touches priming the rest of SEES to gradually accept Makoto’s upcoming insatiable need for touch. Like a needy dog- needier than Koromaru would ever ask for.
the small innocent things becoming more noticeable to the members of SEES as time went on.
Makoto asking to hold hands whenever there was a road to cross (for safety reasons of course).
Or standing closely whenever Shinjiro started to fix up a meal, as if an annoying little fly hovering around trying to get a taste.
Or sometimes snatching Junpei’s cap and placing a freezing cold hand across Junpei’s bare neck near the edges of his buzz cut that Makoto longed to run his hand through.