Work Text:
Kotone had already known, because the experience of being healed by Yukari is so potently different from the experience of being healed by Amada—but it’s a different, unique sensory feeling, receiving heals from Akihiko. During previous trips into Tartarus, it’s sort of felt like a waste of him putting him into that role, but this evening it’s just the two of them, and Kotone feels especially sensitive to it as Akihiko casts Diarama for the third time. When he’s done, he slides his evoker cleanly back into its holder and offers Kotone a gloved hand to pull her to her feet.
She ignores it, for the moment, closing her eyes instead. Not that Akihiko’s never healed her before, but it was different before his Persona evolved. The feeling is so potent—different from how Kotone had envisioned what it would be like being the recipient of Akihiko’s protection, rather than being shielded behind a firm back, it’s more like being cradled in the bend of his arm. He smells good there in the recesses of her mind, clean and soft, and he smiles at her like he can see through to her core where everything’s all twisted up and gnarled and it doesn’t particularly bother him.
To be honest, the sensation makes her feel kind of sick, but Yukari isn’t here to take the burden from him tonight. She hadn’t been able to make it. As a matter of fact, none of the rest of the team had been able to make it, with the exception of Fuuka, who waits for them as always on the main floor, but she’s been quiet tonight. She only really intervened in that last fight, where they realistically should have drawn back—as had been Fuuka’s advice in the first place—but Kotone had felt that same rush, the hot blood running through her face and pumping in her chest, and she hadn’t been able to retreat. No… she hadn’t wanted to retreat.
It’s just—none of that, even the expedition with just the two of them, is really anything new. It’s not advisable to go into Tartarus without the whole team, or at the very least only missing a couple members, but Akihiko’s agreed to come with her before on nights when the others haven’t been able to make it. Even before he had Caesar and got better at healing, the two of them would push it past their limits. It sort of became a ritual for whenever Kotone was feeling sort of crappy; she found herself looking forward to it, after a certain point.
“Shiomi?” Akihiko prompts, above her. His voice sounds sort of faint, warped and distorted. Kotone thinks that says more about the static in her head than the actual amount of noise pollution on this floor of Tartarus, which is relatively quiet, all considered. Even somewhat peaceful now that they’ve dispersed the last group of shadows. No, the problem is entirely Kotone’s own, and that feels clearer than ever when she finally musters the energy to open her eyes and look up at Akihiko’s worried face, the way his brows have met in the middle, his lips parted like he’s about to ask her what she’s thinking.
“Hah,” Kotone pushes herself to her feet without taking his hand, stumbles for only a moment before she shakes her head and readjusts. “Sorry. I’m so out of it tonight. We should really call it quits, huh?”
Akihiko drops his hand to his side and tugs at his shoulder holster. “Is that what you want to do?”
…He’s pretty good at this following business, despite being her senpai. Aragaki was worse about it, always so pushy whenever he thought Kotone was overdoing it. (She misses him so much thinking about it makes her feel kind of sick.) Akihiko has even admitted that he finds it hard to resist his instinct to want to try and keep her safe, but he usually pushes past that and follows her lead. He never questions her judgement or tries to tell her what to do; when Kotone rushes into danger, he’s always right there at her back, ready to keep her company when she can barely hear his voice over the deafening beat of her own heart in her chest.
It’s just that that might be the issue, because Kotone had offered him the out in the hopes that he’d take it, and he staunchly won’t, not even if he really doesn’t want to be here. And Kotone can tell—she curls her hands into fists at her sides, then drops into a crouch again to collect her naginata from where it fell to the floor when she got hit. Akihiko hadn’t been in the mood for Tartarus tonight. He’s had a surplus of time since stepping down as the boxing club’s president, so you’d think he’d be raring to go, but the truth is, since October…
Kotone bites down hard on her inner lip, then hisses when she tastes metal. She’s being selfish again. How should Akihiko be feeling right now? And here she is thinking about being lonely? Kotone lifts her hand to cover her mouth and look away, but she still catches the way Akihiko starts in her periphery, his hands fluttering awkwardly over his middle.
“Are you, um—”
“It’s fine,” Kotone bites out. “I just—” She’s doing too much. She’s being bitchy. She has to rein it in, even if it’s just Akihiko here, he doesn’t deserve mean or grumpy and Fuuka can hear them over the headsets. She shuts her eyes and breathes but her cresting emotions don’t reach a baseline. They’ve been doing that lately, over and over and over again, skyrocketing and plummeting and zigzagging all over the place without her permission. Kotone’s usually so proud of how well she can keep herself under control. And if she starts to slip, well, usually these days she can go into Tartarus and let off steam until she feels better. But right now—
“Shiomi,” Akihiko says.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” Kotone blurts out. She groans, then shifts her weapon into a hand so she can press her other palm against her eyes. “Sorry. Shit. Sorry. I’m—” Now she’s cursing in front of him. She’s making a mess after he’s already had to heal her three times. “You had something else you wanted to do tonight, or something, right? It’s—we should have—”
“It’s all right,” Akihiko interjects. “I wouldn’t have said I’d come unless I wanted to. I—” He stops, and doesn’t speak until Kotone shifts her hand, tugging it from her eyes enough to get a glimpse of his expression. Akihiko’s making that worried face at her again, and his lip’s caught between his own teeth, albeit gentler than she’d done it, not harsh enough to draw blood at all. “...I’m… a little worried about you, I guess. That’s why I wanted to come.”
It’s pretty much the worst thing he could have said. It’d be one thing if Akihiko was trying to reach an old sense of normalcy, or maybe even felt a little reckless like she did, but it—Kotone bites back a growl and puts her hand back over her eyes. She’s going to spiral out of control and Akihiko is never going to see her the same way again and he won’t trust her to lead and the rest of the team will know, too. Fuuka will overhear it and she’ll worry, and then Yukari will say something like ‘I told you it was a bad idea to go down’ and Kirijou will realise how much she’s just been making it up as she goes along, and then—
Kotone pinches her own cheek to cut off her winding thoughts. The tension all bleeds out of her with a hiss of air through her teeth, like a balloon deflating. At the very least, she’s panicking too much by thinking things like that. Not like anything that serious or worrying has even happened yet. She just pushed herself the way that she usually would, and before the fight just now, Akihiko said…
“Maybe we’re out of our league here, Shiomi,”
…with his nose wrinkled, like he was unsure of himself. And Kotone’s never seen a look like that on his face. Even when they go up against shadows that are well above their level, Akihiko’s usually at least willing to face the challenge, heedless of the consequences. That’s been different all month, like Akihiko suddenly cares about—well—
Not that Kotone would ever put him danger. Or the rest of the team in danger. She’d never make a choice to hurt them, no matter how tangled up and ugly her inner monologue gets or how hard she wants to keep pushing, if it’s time to retreat then she’ll retreat, but when she moved forward Akihiko still followed her, and then he healed her again, and…
“Um,” Akihiko says, sounding uncertain. It’s like he’d like to say her name to capture her attention again, but it hadn’t worked the first time, so now he’s stuck. It’s a little funny how bad Akihiko is when it comes to stuff like this. You’d think Kotone’s golden boy senpai would be something of an expert, but when he’s put on the spot, he tends to stumble and trip over his words like he’s navigating the dark blind. It should be endearing, but Kotone can’t help this sense of crushing guilt that she’s putting him out now more than she already has, that on top of endangering themselves needlessly, she’s now making Akihiko try to figure out an emotional issue, and there’s nothing he has less experience with than that.
Kotone sighs again. Then sighs again, pushing hard enough that she has to let out a little cough to balance it. Akihiko’s still giving her that look and Kotone doesn’t know how to respond to it, so she drops her arm back to her blade but she averts her gaze too and swallows very hard.
“...Please don’t. Worry about me, I mean. I’m fine. You didn’t have to—you don’t have to keep me out of trouble, Senpai. That’s not your responsibility.”
Akihiko… breathes out at that, and smiles, like he’s relieved. “Oh. Is that why you’re upset? I am worried about you, but I would have come either way. I like doing this with you.”
Thumb pushing against the handle of her blade, Kotone shifts her weight. “It doesn’t seem like you’ve been having very much fun, though.”
“Well…” Akihiko shrugs. “I guess it’s a weird time to be alive right now, isn’t it? And I’ve been doing some thinking lately…” His gaze leaves Kotone, focusing somewhere in the middle distance. The greenish glow of Tartarus makes his eyes take on a deep viridian colour, even though they’re usually sort of brownish under the sunlight. He admits, “I think my priorities got all skewed after Shinji left the team before… and now that he’s not, um, here, I’ve been wanting to change how I go about this stuff. So when we’re fighting together, I keep thinking… how else can I keep you safe? Not just by ploughing down the shadows as much as I can.”
Kotone blinks. It’s—frankly very sincere from Akihiko and that alone she doesn’t know how to deal with, but it’s also just a surprising amount of introspection. “How else would you do it?”
“I don’t know,” Akihiko admits, rubbing his cheek. “That’s as far as I’ve gotten right now. Um, that I want to.” He smiles at that, his attention returning to Kotone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so lost in thought that you would notice.”
It really isn’t a problem. She… likes that Akihiko is thinking about that stuff. Kotone has to avert her gaze from that smile again though, swallowing hard. It’s the sort of thing she’s sure would make Aragaki feel really happy to hear, and for that reason alone, it can only be characterised as a good thing, but…
Should it feel so lonely to hear something like that? Kotone forces a laugh and hopes Akihiko doesn’t notice how empty it comes out, looking back at him and trying to keep her own smile up.
“You’re so easy to admire, Akihiko-senpai. Thanks for sharing that with me, and for coming out tonight. Sorry if I made it hard for you to do that by being reckless, ehehe.”
Akihiko raises his eyebrows, but shakes his head. “You didn’t. You don’t make anything hard on me, Shiomi.”
That’s hard to hear. She’d like to believe it—it’s the one thing she’s always trying to do, not make things hard on other people—but Akihiko is always so consistent. Even the day right after Aragaki died, he showed up and put everyone at ease. It’s hard not to think that somehow, in some way, she must’ve caused trouble for him too, the same way she’s always having to rein herself in from causing trouble for herself.
Setting the end of her naginata against the floor, Kotone leans it into her body so she can fold her arms over her stomach, and over the weapon itself. She can’t look at Akihiko, but she nods, because she believes that he means it, if nothing else. If Akihiko doesn’t see something as trouble but it truthfully is, it’s Kotone’s job to see that and create distance between them. She used to be so good at that, but in recent months, not just with Akihiko but with Aigis and Yukari and Fuuka, she’s gotten all over-attached and sentimental. It’s so far outside of the realm of her normal that she doesn’t know how to cope with it. And now she’s digging her heels in and making Akihiko worry about her anyway, like the past several months’ worth of efforts were all for nothing.
“...I guess I’m…” Kotone admits, haltingly, “in kind of… a weird mood. We really shouldn’t have done Tartarus while I’m… sorry.” She forces out another laugh, too breathy, but Akihiko doesn’t give her the same piercing look that Yukari would. He only smiles at her gently and takes a step closer, and when he lifts his hand, doesn’t place it on her shoulder; he’s waiting for her permission.
He doesn’t need that to touch her, but Kotone appreciates that he waited anyway. She presses needily after the touch, and the warmth of his palm seeps through the fabric of her uniform. Taking a few deep breaths, Kotone stares at his face until the knot in her chest starts to unravel.
“Maybe sometimes I worry that you’re leaving me behind,” Kotone blurts without thinking, and heat rushes to her face, that coil reforming within seconds. She sucks in a sharp breath and claps a hand over her mouth, but it’s too late to take the words back, or to mitigate Akihiko’s reaction to them. His eyebrows fly up on his face. Kotone searches for something to say as damage control, this is what she’s good at, the failsafe if not the moment itself, but her tongue suddenly feels leaden in her mouth. She can’t elaborate. “I—I mean—”
“It couldn’t be less like that,” Akihiko asserts with wide eyes. He’s speaking in a louder, firmer voice than he has since they started fighting, his hand tightening against Kotone’s shoulders. “Shiomi, I’ve only ever been following your lead. I—maybe that isn’t the way to think about it, if that’s not how you feel about it. But leaving you behind…”
His lips part and tremble. Kotone realises he’s holding her so tightly because his hand is shaking too. He takes in a breath with visible effort, and as if in reaction to Akihiko’s distress, Kotone feels the tension leave her all over again. She grabs onto his arm, his wrist, where the skin is bare, and squeezes him tightly. Touching Akihiko is always a gamble, because when he gets worked up enough, he has a propensity to shock her—and indeed, it kind of numbs her arm to hold on so tightly—but she doesn’t let go. He’s so warm and steady, even with that faint tremble and obvious emotion.
“I shouldn’t have said it,” Kotone admits.
“No,” Akihiko denies, shaking his head. “I’m glad that you did. I—I want to help you in any way that I can. Even if that’s just…” He trails off, then smiles awkwardly. “Um, hearing you say things like that.”
He pauses.
“...Me and Yamagishi, that is.”
“I’m very sorry,” Fuuka’s voice buzzes through the intercom.
“Fuuka,” Kotone says, and she can’t help a laugh, even as her eyes start welling. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
Akihiko looks alarmed when he notices, but if he says it out loud then Fuuka will hear it too, so Kotone releases her weapon and lets it fall back to the ground in favour of stepping in and pressing herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around him. It’s a calculated move, she’s telling herself, giving Akihiko the opportunity to comfort her physically so Fuuka doesn’t catch onto how badly she’s doing (even if it is Fuuka, so she probably has an inkling anyway) but it feels nice to press into him too. Like taking his heals, she can smell him this close, feel how steadily he plants his feet on the ground. And his arms come to encircle her automatically, unthinkingly. He cares as easily as he breathes, even when he so often calls himself ‘useless’ at these things.
“How, uh, how are you holding up back there, Yamagishi?” Akihiko asks, endearingly awkward as his hand rubs between Kotone’s shoulder blades.
“I’m all right,” Fuuka reassures him immediately. “...Do you two want to head back now? We’re cutting it pretty close right now…”
Akihiko obediently looks to Kotone for her call. Kotone tucks her face into his shoulder so he won’t catch her smile. “Yeah, we’d better. Thanks for holding it down, Fuuka.”
“It’s really no problem,” Fuuka says, and then falters. “Um… Kotone-chan, you should know, I don’t mean to overstep, I just… I know it isn’t the same for me as it is for you and Sanada-senpai,” she sounds a bit embarrassed saying this, which makes Kotone have to bite her lip so she won’t laugh, “but I also want to help you, however I can. Everyone else in the team would feel that way too, so… you don’t have to push yourself so hard when you’re feeling badly. You can just… talk to us, you know.”
That’s probably the more emotionally intelligent thing to say. Kotone’s not sure if it’s what she’s been looking to hear, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need to be told it nonetheless… Maybe she’s a lousy leader if she can’t rely on her friends and teammates, too. She lets out a sigh and leans her cheek into Akihiko’s shoulder, staring out at the wall.
“...You’re right. Thanks again, Fuuka.”
“Of course.”
Akihiko releases her when she shifts to withdraw. He can be dense at times, but he’s good when it comes to things like this, sensitive to her signals, maybe just because he doesn’t like being touched all that much either. He smiles when their eyes meet, and it’s so awkward and sort of hopeful that Kotone reaches up to mess up his hair before she goes for her naginata. She’s not sure what else she could be expected to do. Akihiko doesn’t even seem to mind much, leaving his hair as is and falling into step after her with a bashful grin on his face as they make their way back to the transporter.
Reaching behind herself, Kotone feels blindly for his hand, then intertwines their fingers together.
“You don’t have… to think any more about anything I said earlier,” Kotone says. “I was just being silly.”
“We don’t have to talk about it again if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to just forget, either,” Akihiko responds. Kotone sighs. Sometimes she wishes that Akihiko would be slightly more of a douchebag. It’d make these things easier on her… It almost makes her skin crawl to be the recipient of his affection and loyalty at times.
She squeezes his hand though. “You really are sweet, Akihiko-senpai.”
“W-Well, um.” Akihiko clears his throat. Kotone doesn’t have to look back to know that he’s blushing. “Thanks. But I um. That isn’t…” He trails off, then lets out a low huff. “I just want you to know that you’re not—whatever I choose to do or whoever I decide to be, you’re not just… a part of my life, or someone who should only be there for a time. I want to—I mean, with you, Shiomi, I want…”
It must be deeply felt, because Akihiko can’t even spit the words out. Kotone stops walking so he walks into her, back knocking into his chest, and smiles when she hears Akihiko’s little oof on impact. His hands fall on either side of her shoulders, keeping her steady, and Kotone breathes out.
She’d like it if she could just feel normal. But she’s selfishly reassured by Akihiko’s words, anyway, and that’ll have to be enough for her for now.
“I want that too,” Kotone says, because that much is the truth. There’s nothing she’d like more than to stay with Akihiko like this for the rest of her life. “Sorry again.”
“Don’t be,” Akihiko murmurs, and his hands squeeze at her arms. Kotone sighs, then recaptures his fingers before she resumes walking. That’s enough. She’s cutting it off here, because she doesn’t know how much more she’ll be able to take, or if Akihiko will still be able to respect her if she says some of the things that she really thinks, about herself.
She’ll just… have to trust that he means what he says, and that it would hold up under pressure. That’s always been Kotone’s weak suit, but then, she’s never known someone like Akihiko before either. So who knows? Either way, she’ll have to find some other way to vent her energy when she gets restless like this…
Hah. Maybe she should take Fuuka’s advice and confide in one of her teammates, after all. Wouldn’t that be something? Kotone chews on it until they reach the main floor, then puts the thought firmly out of her mind as the smile automatically comes back to her face. Something to consider when she’s alone later, in her bed… Not something to be dwelled upon in polite company, without a doubt.