A/N: I just needed an excuse to write an Aki/Mitsu story. This was sort of inspired by the song Universe by Savage Garden; have a listen if you get the chance.

Also, I don't know if I should have rated this M, but I don't think it's that graphic...


"I thought you don't believe in superstitions," Mitsuru remarked as she sat down beside him. He smiled and nodded towards a certain junior who was standing by the entrance to the shrine, talking to Ken and Fuuka.

"I don't, but after hearing Junpei's creepy tone when he said he wanted to take a walk here, I thought I'd just come along to keep in him check," Akihiko explained, turning to her. His gaze didn't hold for long, however. His cheeks were slightly flushed as he looked away, shifting uncomfortably on the bench. His reaction surprised her and if she hadn't remembered that they were far from alone, she would have reached out for his hand already.

"Is something the matter?" she asked in concern. He rubbed the back of his neck with a small, apologetic grin.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm really not used to seeing you like that."

She wanted to laugh at his response. What was wrong with a kimono? Furtively glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she leaned closer to him and whispered rather cheekily, "It's not about what Amada was talking about, is it? What was it… 'going commando'?"

Her words made him slowly turn back to her, a hint of amusement on his face and his eyebrows raised. "I can see you naked anytime I want, Mitsuru," he replied in a tone that was similar to hers, very quiet and teasing. "All I need to do is close my eyes."

She found herself unexpectedly speechless at his words and this time, it was her turn to blush. He couldn't help snickering at her expression.

o-o-o-o-o

His behaviour was uncharacteristic. Although she was not one to be easily submissive, she let him forcefully press her against the door she had just been through a second earlier, his lips claiming hers with ardour that was almost animalistic. His fingers ran through her red locks and pulled her closer to him, his grip tight and unrelenting, reaching to undo her ribbon. As soon as he worked her collar free, his mouth slipped down to attack her neck, a growl-like sound coming from him, sending involuntary shivers up her spine.

To say she wasn't at least a tiny bit frightened would have been a lie, but as her own hands moved to rest on his chest, she made no move to stop him. She knew he wanted—needed—to vent the feelings within him—the frustration, anger and sorrow—and so she merely stood there, between him and the door, allowing him to do as he pleased.

It had barely been an hour since they had lost Shinjiro, after all.

When Akihiko pulled back slightly, she found herself staring into his grey eyes, clouded with an emotion she surprisingly couldn't decipher. "… Are you on the pill?" His voice was low and hoarse. It was his first sentence since she had stepped into his room.

Mitsuru swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and nodded wordlessly. Breathing hard, he began to unbuckle his belt while still holding her gaze, his movements erratic. She met his kiss with passion rivalling his own as the sound of a zipper lowering reached her ears. She felt a hand reach under her skirt, caressing her thigh for a second before moving to the thin fabric there; stroking, touching, evoking her soft sigh. Without warning, he lifted one of her legs, pulled her undergarment aside and entered her forcibly, knocking her back against the door with a thud.

Her choked gasp drowned the contented hiss from him and her fingers immediately grabbed fistfuls of his vest as her mouth slipped away from his and she buried her face into his neck. For a while, they stood motionless—she needing time to adjust to him, he revelling in her heat—before his hips ground upwards against hers in a sharp thrust. She bit down on her lip, willing herself not to gasp once more, fully aware of the presence of the other SEES members in the dorm. He, however, made no indication of that. Akihiko's breaths were hot against her ear as he continued to relentlessly claim her again and again, strong hands keeping her slender form in just the right position and moist lips moving along her flawless skin to her collarbone. The door behind her squeaked with every of his powerful motion.

They had made love before but never as frantic or spontaneous as this. She couldn't decide on whether she liked it or not. He was usually gentle and tender, enjoying foreplay. This was a side of him she never knew he had and every little sound she made in response to his hastening action seemed to fuel his excitement further. They tried their best to keep as quiet as they could, but the faint, rhythmic thumping on the door did not help.

"Akihiko, the others…" Mitsuru didn't know how she had managed to whisper that as she clutched his hair. He roughly kissed her and just murmured huskily, "A little longer…"

Her body growing hotter and his movements more vigorous, she prepared herself for the familiar euphoria threatening to engulf them both. One hard, final thrust from him, hitting her in all the right spots, was enough to send her crashing down to ecstasy and it took every last bit of self control she had not to cry out his name, clinging onto him for dear life as his muffled grunt signalled his release as well. He held her close, the two of them riding out their blissful waves, trembling slightly in each other's arms and gradually calming their racing hearts.

She leaned into him, savouring the rare moment of intimacy between them. She wanted to close her eyes, but when she heard his strange manner of breathing and felt him continue to shake, his embrace around her tightening strongly, she knew immediately what was happening.

Akihiko was… crying.

Gently pulling away from him, Mitsuru reached out for his face, fingers running through silver hair, across his trademark bandage and brushing away his tears, her lips finding his, as if wanting to kiss away his grief. He responded just as hungrily, his hands tangled in her crimson mane.

"It wasn't his time," he bitterly whispered against her mouth, his tone cold and strangled. "It wasn't his time, dammit…!"

She understood then why he had taken her so forcefully. It wasn't simply to rid himself of his suffocating emotions. Maybe, just maybe, he needed some sort of proof that he was still alive—that they were both still breathing.

o-o-o-o-o

When she was alone with him, that was the time she was no longer the Mitsuru Kirijo everyone else knew. He loved her all the same, be it the way she smiled as she touched his hair (She always wondered what it was like to have short hair) or the quizzical manner at which she raised her eyebrow at something she had never come across before ("So you beat the egg… with a fork?"). He loved her scent, her taste, the way she let her guard down around him, every addictive sigh and desirable moan that escaped her lips.

It was summer and they were at the park, lying close to one another on the grass and staring up at the ominous green sky before them. Being outdoors in the Dark Hour should have been haunting, but tonight, they were glad of the tranquillity surrounding them. Their Evokers were by their hips, platinum surfaces glinting in the dull moonlight. The juniors were back at the dorm, each under the impression that they were 'training at school' and 'dealing with family business'.

"Do you remember how we used to lie like this? The three of us—you, me, Shinji. Things were way less complicated then, huh?" Akihiko broke the pleasant silence between them, head inclining to look at her. She nodded in response.

"The first time we did it, the two of you helped me sneak out," she fondly recalled. "Climbing that tree, creating that diversion… It was rather exhilarating."

"Wasn't that exciting when your father caught us on our way back, though," he pointed out with a grin. "Man, he gave us hell. If I pulled something like that now, he'd probably kill me."

Her soft and melodious chuckle warmed his very soul. She snuggled closer to his shoulder, an arm draped across his stomach, her forefinger lightly tracing the pattern of his uniform. "… We were… talking for a while the other day," Mitsuru murmured slowly. The serious tone in her voice was faint but he had immediately sensed it. His gaze moved to her face but she was not looking at him. "He told me that the heads of some of the affiliates of the Kirijo Group want my hand in marriage…" she continued. "For their sons, I mean…"

He couldn't describe how he felt just then—there were too many emotions ricocheting off the walls of his heart. Naturally, annoyance and dismay came first, and then disappointment, but most importantly, he was afraid. Was he going to lose her? Even merely considering such a possibility was like ramming a knife deep into his chest and twisting the punishing blade around.

"… Uh-huh." His voice was raspy.

"Don't be like that," Mitsuru softly said, a hand moving to his face and lightly touching his furrowed forehead. "You look like a grumpy old man when you frown."

Despite the apparent gravity of the situation, a watery smile made its way to his lips. She exhaled heavily and reached for his hand, grasping it firmly. "You don't have to worry," she said. "My father wouldn't agree to something like that without telling me, and anyway, he brushed off their offers. He knows I'm not ready for such matters yet."

His only response to that was wrapping his arms around her protectively and somewhat possessively. She said no more and just lied there in his embrace. Her breathing was calm and soothing, but the word 'yet' in her last sentence had made him realise something; something that turned his blood a little cold and stirred the fear that, up until then, had remained dormant in a corner of his mind.

"What if it's for the good of the company? Would you do it?" It was a question he wanted to raise but his lips remained shut. It wasn't that he couldn't bring himself to ask her that—he was just afraid of what her answer might be.

o-o-o-o-o

He returned the favour the night her father died. They didn't make love—he found her curled up in his bed instead and so he slipped in next to her and held her trembling form tightly, arms pulling her close against him. She cried, he kept silent. Nothing he said could have made things easier for her anyway. The dead cannot come back; he was all too familiar with that. After all, it had been the first harsh reality brutally thrown at his face when he had been but a child.

o-o-o-o-o

It came up as they were starting to tuck into their Hagakure Beef Bowl. Chewing hungrily, Shinji had bluntly asked, "Something going on between you and Mitsuru?"

Akihiko's grip on his chopsticks tightened but he kept his expression neutral and just bit on a tender strip of meat. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he had already expected the question even though it had only been a day since his childhood friend had rejoined the team. "Where the hell did that come from?" he countered in an agitated tone.

"Don't bother. You know I can always tell when you lie," Shinji scoffed.

It was true, so Akihiko said nothing. The two of them were silent as they continued eating and a few minutes later, when he was done, Shinji took a huge gulp of water and set his glass down with a satisfied sigh. His companion was still finishing up.

"Gekkoukan's Golden Boy and Golden Girl, huh? Now that's a match made in heaven," Shinji said, scratching the back of his head.

Akihiko didn't even bother denying any of it. "Just so you know, that's not public information," he stiffly said.

"So I'm guessing her father has no idea."

"… We're not telling people."

Shinji took in a deep breath, pulling his beanie lower and thrusting his hands into his coat pockets. "Look, Aki…" he started. "I've got nothing against the both of you hooking up, but to be honest, I don't think it's a good idea…"

The boxer couldn't resist giving him a small, challenging grin. "Sure you're not just jealous?" he goaded but Shinji just sniggered and said, "Nice try. Mitsuru's a good friend, but from what I've seen, getting involved with girls is a whole different ball game. Life's complicated as it is—why go through more trouble?"

Akihiko did not agree with that, but he remained silent. He wasn't in the mood for an argument.

"How long?" Shinji asked vaguely.

"Since January."

"Heh, you guys did a great job keeping it quiet. If I hadn't returned to the dorm, I probably wouldn't have noticed it myself." There was a pause as Shinji took a sip of his drink. "… So is it serious?"

"It's Mitsuru. Of course it's serious." Akihiko's answer was short.

"I think it's a bad idea." Another blunt remark. "Have you thought it through? About the future, I mean."

"Since when do you think about the future?"

"Quit fucking around, Aki," spat Shinji, his dark eyes glinting under a frown. Grey orbs stared back at him, unwavering and staunch. "I'm happy for you guys, really," he said quietly, his tone slightly awkward. "But the two of you… you're just too different. You live under the same roof, but you're worlds apart. She's a Kirijo, for God's sake. It ain't gonna be like this forever, Aki; this isn't some happy-ending Hollywood movie where the guy gets the girl in the end. You know she's gonna have to leave this place one day—her father's got her whole future set out for her. What are you gonna do then? You think he'd like the idea of his only daughter with an orphaned nobody when she could be with some big-shot CEO in a power suit?"

His words were harsh but Akihiko had expected no less. Shinji always was someone who pulled no punches when he wanted to raise a point, and a valid one at that. It wasn't that Akihiko himself hadn't thought about it—after finding out about Mitsuru's unwanted suitors, it was unavoidable, but as honest and relaxed as they were around each other when they were alone, it was something the both of them had never brought up. Akihiko just needed to dig a little deeper to realise that he was actually afraid of talking about their future—one where he might be out of the picture.

"… We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Truthfully, he didn't know what else to say, but his mood had soured drastically. He took out his wallet and paid for both dishes silently, ignoring Shinji's shrewd stare and suddenly having the urge to go home and do some boxing on his punching bag.

"You head on back," muttered Shinji, almost as if he was reading his mind. "I'm gonna drop by the bookstore for a while."

Akihiko just shrugged and left without another word.

o-o-o-o-o

They met Aigis for the first time on their vacation to Yakushima, but the trip held more significance to them than that. It had also been the first time they made love; the first time he discovered something more pleasurable than his own hands, and the first time she found out there was something that hurt even more than a Shadow's most powerful attack. Their kisses had been clumsy, their movements and rhythm awkward, but every new touch, stroke and fondle had been sensational, addictive. They lost themselves in each other's scent, taste and bodies. The uncharted territory was new but exciting, and they wanted more. He hungered for the blissful and gratifying moans from her lips—sounds he never knew he could coax from her. She loved his quiet, lustful breaths and sighs; ones that drove her skin flaming and sent thrilling tingles rushing through her veins.

There were a lot of pleasant memories from Yakushima, but the most important of all had been the fact that for the first time, they realised just how in love with each other they really were.

o-o-o-o-o

His fists were raining blow after blow on the man's face but the only thing he saw was red—literally. The blood from his victim had smeared across the floor and coated his gloves. He didn't even know—didn't care—if the guy was still alive. The only thing going through his mind was the thought that what he was doing felt incredibly fulfilling.

People always said that revenge was sweet, after all.

"Senpai! Get a hold of yourself!" A familiar yell rang out and Akihiko felt someone pulling him back. He forcefully tried to wrench himself apart from their grip but someone else caught hold of his other arm and with much difficulty, Minato and Junpei dragged the livid senior away. The thin and bloody fair-haired man on the ground was coughing and cackling out maniacally.

"Get the fuck away," Akihiko growled but even his strength was no match for the two juniors who held him down.

"Akihiko-senpai, please, calm down," Fuuka's tearful voice reached him. It took a few second for the ringing in his ears and his pumping adrenaline to pacify, and it was then that he saw the mess he had made. Takaya remained on the ground, his spent revolver a few feet away, a smile of lunacy on his heavily bleeding face. Koromaru, Ken and Aigis were standing close to him, ready for any attack.

The boxer yanked his arms away from Minato and Junpei's hold. Breathing hard, he shakily got up and turned, leaving the group, flinging away the tainted blood on his gloves. He wanted to scream out in anger but his throat was tight and dry. It hurt to even swallow. He went down the stairs they had all rushed up before the battle; he didn't care where he went, he just needed to get away from that man. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he planted a fist into a nearby pillar, the coursing pain actually making him feel a little better.

He stood there momentarily, catching his breath and wiping away the sweat on his forehead. When he felt a hand resting on his shoulder, he shrugged it off roughly.

"Akihiko…" Mitsuru's voice was quiet. He turned to her at once. Her expression was one he had never seen before—a mixture of concern, empathy and fear. All of a sudden, he wanted to give himself a good punch in the face for frightening her so.

"I'm sorry, Mitsuru. I didn't mean to scare you," he whispered as her fingers reached out to stroke his cheek. The others were just upstairs and any of them could have been looking down, but it was the least of her worries at that moment. "… I thought I was over it, but when I saw him, something in me just snapped," Akihiko admitted softly. "I just kept thinking, 'This is the guy who killed Shinji.' There was no way I was gonna let him go."

"It's okay," she said, stepping closer to wrap her arms around him. As he hugged her back and inhaled the smell of her hair, he felt his rage melt away, dissipating into the air. "It's okay..." He heard her murmur again into his ear and before he could stop himself, he turned and kissed her, needing that last bit of assurance to hold on to his sanity. She didn't pull away, but kissed him back instead. If someone was watching from the next floor, so be it. The both of them didn't care.

They broke apart, panting a little. I love you, a voice in his head echoed, but he never said the words, choosing instead to drown in the fire of passion and warmth in her mahogany eyes. After caressing his face one final time, she took his hand and led him up the stairs. Even when they had regrouped with the rest of the team, their fingers remained intertwined, as if needing to share each other's strength.

The others had immediately noticed the unexpected gesture, but nobody said anything. Junpei had chuckled, scratching his head underneath his cap. Yukari and Minato exchanged glances and just smiled knowingly. Ken and Fuuka beamed. Aigis remained emotionless as usual and Koromaru was still growling at the fallen Takaya.

Minato walked over to the next set of stairs leading further up. Looking back at his friends for what he didn't realise would be his last time, he nodded confidently and asked, "Everyone ready?"


A/N: The non-chronological order was intentional, so apologies if things were confusing. I had a lot of fun writing rabid Aki...