USUAL DISCLAIMERS: all characters belong to Atlus, except in some cases I had to slap names on people because there weren't any or I forgot what the hell they were. Feel free to use the ideas or enjoy or pass it on or whatever. A big THANK YOU to my beta-reader squishybee and everyone who writes fanfic for the rest of us to enjoy. You've all made my boring life more tolerable. :D
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FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY
FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY
FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY
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Shin Megami Tensei Persona 3 FES: The Seduction of Akihiko Sanada
Act One - by Caeila
Rating: MA
Category: Erotica, Erotic Romance
Pairing: MitsuAki / Mitsuru x Akihiko / AkiMitsu
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WARNING: SPOILERS! ESPECIALLY FROM EMPRESS S.LINK!
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She faced the wall calendar, seeing but not seeing its depiction of scarlet and yellow November leaves above the Kyoto onsen. Soft footsteps slipped along the hallway, stopping at her door. Someone tapped. The sound brought her back.
"Enter," she murmured, hands clasped in her lap. She had been trained in the highest social circles—modern royal courts—to hide her nervousness. Resignation is the first lesson in life. She had heard that proverb many times, but it was too late now to listen—
The door slid left to reveal a young man in seiza—a formal Japanese sitting pose with his knees tucked under him. His indigo blue yukata was tied squarely against his taut waist. He had high cheekbones and long-lashed, inquiring eyes that could have belonged to a woman, if not for his entirely masculine demeanor. He flinched, crimson-faced, when he saw her serious gaze.
"Hello—I mean, good evening, Mitsuru. I got your message. Am I in trouble?" He bowed his head awkwardly.
Surprise touched Mitsuru's face. Perhaps she had been more dangerous in her note than she had intended. "Akihiko, do you remember the fourth full moon on Shirakawa Boulevard?" Her voice shook as a leaf does when a ladybug alights.
"Is that why you called me? How could I forget?" He raised his head and gazed fiercely into her eyes. "I could say it was the irresistible influence of the Lovers Arcana, but I was inexcusable."
Ah, he felt guilty. That was it. She gave him the smallest of smiles, a tiny crinkling around the edges of her almond eyes. "Would you like some tea? It's a Chinese type, 'Winter Phoenix Frost'."
Rising gracefully from the soft tatami matting to her knees, she poured two cups from a delicate peach ceramic pot. Fragrant tendrils of steam spiraled into the air. It helped steady her nerves. Hopefully, it would have the same effect on him.
Akihiko's eyes followed the sweep of Mitsuru's silvery yukata sleeves. She placed a steaming cup in front of him. "I didn't have the strength to resist it until—" The young man touched a loosely closed hand to his cheek. His voice dropped. "You were so beautiful, and you were wearing nothing but a towel. What can I do to make it up to you?"
"Finish what you started," said Mitsuru simply. She replaced the teapot onto its lacquer tray. "You are forgiven. I want you to continue where you left off."
He froze like a skittish colt. She held herself very still. She was afraid that the wrong move would make him bolt. Then he shook himself and repeated her dumbly. "Huh? You want me…to continue…?"
Her mind protested. What are you doing? This can't work out! Mitsuru quieted the voice. Yukari had smacked some sense into her earlier, about the death of her father. She felt freer, more reckless tonight.
The young woman reached out to caress his hand, as if reassuring a wild creature. "We're fighting Shadows that get stronger every time we enter Tartarus. Do you ever think about dying? I do, all the time. Memento mori. It's an old Latin phrase: remember that you are mortal." She tilted her head. "Whether we live or die, I want to give you a small part of me. If you wish to take it."
She took a deep breath and brushed her lips over his. It was awkward, but it got the point across.
Akihiko leaned forward, meeting her lips with an exploratory brush of his own. "Are you sure, Mitsuru? I mean, you resisted the Shadow." He seemed to be holding himself tightly in check.
"There was duty and the mission to consider." She bit her lower lip. "Its pull nearly overwhelmed me too. You're not a 15-year old boy any longer; believe me, I noticed. We've known each other for so long. I trust you."
"You deserve someone more…" Longing, fear and guilt fought on his face.
"Older? Experienced? No." It came out more severely than she wanted. She tried to soften her expression. "I want to be with you tonight. I reserved this room at the far end of the hot springs for that reason." Desire clashed with uncertainty in his eyes. She touched his hand shyly. "Shall I show you what to do?"
He smiled then, still unsure, but eager as a small boy ready for his first karate lesson. Pulling her close, he murmured, "Yes. If you lead, I'll follow."
His acquiescence lifted some of the heaviness she had not known she carried. Mitsuru snuggled against him for a moment, swallowing hard. He smelled of soap, clean sweat, and that unidentifiable male something that made her insides clench so pleasantly. Just for tonight, she would give in to what she wanted. Just for tonight, she was not a Kirijo, only Mitsuru.
"We'll have to get this off," she said, guiding his hands to the knot of the obi at her waist. As he fumbled, she released the obi holding his blue yukata closed. She giggled in surprise. "Red briefs, Akihiko? Very nice."
"Dammit, how'd you do that so quick?" he chuckled. He seemed to relax slightly into his usual self. "Aw, forget this." He gripped the edges of her yukata. Before she could protest, he pulled the top of her robe open. His jaw dropped. "I never suspected pink lace."
He pushed the yukata down her arms, exposing the white porcelain skin of her shoulders. Mitsuru blushed, realizing through the sudden warmth down there that she liked being half-naked for his eyes to explore. Liked it when he was just a little forceful.
He stroked her shoulders with clumsy fingertips. His voice was confused. "You have bruises and scrapes here. How did that happen?"
She mentally cursed herself for forgetting. "They're not painful anymore. Here, let me help you." She undid the knot at her waist. The cloth rustled down in a silvery pile on the padded tatami. Akihiko's eyes seemed to absorb her body through his black irises.
Mitsuru gathered her hair in a thick bundle in front of her. She turned, presenting her partner with the soft bare expanse of her back. She trailed her hand down the back of her neck, pulling her hair forward and out of the way. "I enjoy being kissed here."
"Yes, Teacher." His voice was strangely respectful. He brushed her skin with feathery fingertips, careful of her injuries, sprinkling patient kisses across her neck and shoulders. She began to squirm in pleasure under the single-minded attention. He was as obliging as she had hoped, so she made her next request. "Do you think you can get my bra undone?"
Akihiko breathed a quiet response, "Oh, God. Yes." He reached for her bra, but after some seconds of muttered frustration, was unable to get the series of hooks loose.
She turned back to him, a little unsure. "It's all right, sometimes it's hard even for me." He bobbed his head a millimeter up and down, hands at his sides. She touched warm lips reassuringly to his, gently guiding his hands to her waist.
She slid them over her stomach, up to her soft lace-clad mounds. The bra's underwire offered her breasts to him like perfect ripe apples. He made a small sound deep in his throat. Mitsuru let his hands stay there as she reached around to undo her bra.
His tentative hands found their way under cloth to her nakedness. He rolled her nipples, like cherries, between thumb and forefinger, lightly kneading the fullness of her breasts. She made soft noises to let him know she approved.
While one hand worked on her left, he sucked at her right, sounding the way someone would slurp the curled top of a tall yogurt cone. The electric shock of it tingled throughout her body. She moaned softly. Her mind went blank. No one had ever done that before. She was amazed it was possible to feel so good.
There was an edge of feral pleasure in his bright grin. "That seems to work well."
"Don't…be…silly," she panted.
"You mean you don't like this? Are you sure?" He did it again, placing his mouth over her firm nipple as if it was the mouth of a soda bottle. He sucked as if to draw her entire body in. When he drew breath, his tongue flicked at her. She cried out. He was unrelenting.
It was as if a live wire connected his mouth and the throbbing between her legs. She entwined her hands in his short silver hair. A sudden gust of cool autumn air, bringing with it the hint of an early snow, rolled over them through an open window. She moaned his name.
It was only when he stopped that she came back to her senses. He had a delighted half-smile on his face that made her dizzy with shame. He rubbed her hip with the hand that wasn't occupied kneading her right breast.
His voice was intimate. "Forget about your dignity, Mitsuru. Every sound you make is beautiful. I want to hear that again." He had no trouble sliding her sheer lace panties down to her knees.
She felt him boldly place a finger along her wet slit, rubbing her with languid strokes. Brilliant white firefly lights seemed to glow in his eyes as he looked at her.
He petted her between the legs. She had always kept her hair there cropped close. He lifted his finger to his tongue, savoring her flavor. "Mmm, you're sweet. Salty. And incredibly wet." His eyes had deepened into dark pools, engulfing her.
"Aki, let's shower first," she said. She dropped her gaze, shivering to see him taste his finger. She would have felt more self-conscious, had he not been apparently enjoying himself so very much.
He stopped, but began kissing the space between her neck and shoulder. It was almost as hard to refuse. She rested against him for a moment, then pushed him away with a half-hearted shove. She took him by the hand, leaving the tangled rope of her panties behind.
Frosted glass doors and a camel-brown sandstone counter stood in the entryway just outside the shower room. She pressed him against the counter and slid down, tucking her fingers into his waistband.
Heat rolled off him like a radiator into the cool night. He was so warm. What was it that she was doing? She couldn't remember, basking like a kitten in that throbbing heat, rubbing her cheek against the heavy thickness of him. He was very clean, with just a hint of sweat and the special soap kept at the resort they were visiting. His musk, that thick male smell of him, intoxicated her.
Mitsuru licked at his hardness, gazing up at his face. His eyes were closed. He was breathing fast, as if coming off a practice session with the speed bag. His skin seemed to glow, but then, he had always been delightfully, naturally pale. He groaned softly, seeming to hold himself back.
"Akihiko, I want to hear you too," whispered Mitsuru. She lapped at him, exploring him through the cloth. Without warning, he threw his head back and grunted. His hips jerked. The red cloth of his briefs turned dark. Her lips touched the wetness as he pulsed, feeling a subtle thrumming run through her, like the hum of a power line.
When she looked up, he was gazing at her with unfocused eyes. He stroked a hand weakly through her hair. She wasn't imagining it. He was glowing in the way distant lightning illuminates the back of thunderclouds. She wasn't sure what it meant. At that moment, she didn't care.
"You're not done already, are you? We haven't even made it to the shower yet," Mitsuru said, amused. She was not going to admit that she had utterly forgotten what she was supposed to be doing.
He tried to catch his breath. "Weren't we supposed to go shower first? You just…give me a minute. I'll be ready for anything you want."
"Still trying to be cool?" she said archly.
"You of all people should talk."
"Let's get this off, then." Mitsuru slipped her fingers under his waistband and wriggled the cloth free. Akihiko had not gone soft. He was long and reasonably thick, and he curved gracefully up towards his bellybutton. Just looking at that curve up close made Mitsuru shiver.
"Come, you can wash me up," she said, "and I'll do you too." She snagged two puffy towels. Her heart skipped a beat as she slipped a small plastic-wrapped square into the stack.
The shower room was a ten-by-ten square foot cube covered with glistening onyx tiles. Against the left wall was the ofuro, a high bathtub used only for soaking. It was lined with aromatic cedar wood. There was a blue plastic bucket and faucets to one side for washing, but Mitsuru adjusted the shower overhead to a pleasantly hot temperature.
Akihiko stroked her backside with admiring fingers as water pattered off their bodies. She put one foot up on the bath stool. He stared down at the opening between her legs, taking deep breaths. He looked painfully hard again, his engorged length pressed against his stomach.
She handed him a bar of soap. "Make sure everything's clean, but don't put your soapy fingers inside me."
"What if they're not soapy?" he said, all seriousness.
"Then you can do what you like, but—" she paused, her voice teasing, "—wouldn't you like to put other things inside me?" He caught his breath, making a tiny desperate noise. She meant to kiss him gently, but he kissed back like he wanted to eat her. Wanted to suck her down and swallow her like a spoonful of ice cream.
Akihiko drew back. His eyes were almost possessive as he watched her. She rubbed cedar-charcoal soap over him, around his ears, down his back and over his nipples, then down to his legs and feet. He even allowed her to stroke him between his legs, along that soft skin between his two most private areas. Frothy bubbles crisscrossed his skin, swept away by falling water.
She finally took hold of his beautiful shaft, poking up with the virility of a young bamboo shoot. She carefully rubbed her palm over the underside of its domed head before rinsing him with the same motions.
"Dammit," he growled. "Don't tease me. You have no idea how much I want to have you on the floor right here." Despite his words, his touch was light.
"Already? It's only been a few minutes since—"
"I told you I'd only need a few." He looked proud of himself. It was a ridiculously cute expression, but she wasn't going to tell him that.
He rubbed soap across her skin and tentatively down in her most intimate parts. She put her hands over his. "Touch me harder, I won't break," she urged. When he did, she writhed a little and almost forced herself onto his searching fingers, but he drew back. She made a small moan of protest. "You said no soapy fingers," he chided.
Akihiko rinsed his hands clean and resumed rubbing her in that place. Kneeling below her, he pushed her thighs apart and positioned his index finger at her crevice. Water dripped off his eyes and nose. He was fixated on watching his finger, a small insistent animal burrowing into its hole.
She held herself apart for him. She was not sure she would enjoy being invaded, but she did. The feeling of him separating her swollen flesh left her panting and dazed. When he crooked his finger and brushed her erect clitoris with his thumb, she fought to keep from buckling.
"I don't know what I did, but the look on your face is priceless," he laughed delightedly, a deep masculine sound. He was just a few months younger than Mitsuru, but he sounded much older. She thought of distant thunder rolling down high mountains. She gripped a steel handrail along the wall and gave him an embarrassed smile.
Over the echo of artificial rainfall from the shower, Akihiko said, "You're glowing. I can see it clearly now, against the black tiles."
She looked at him in surprise. For a moment, she saw him with long blonde hair and silver eyes, his broad shoulders painted with scars. Who? No, he was Akihiko. She was safe with him.
He turned his finger slowly around, in circles, stirring liquid in a chalice. Distantly, she heard him say wonderingly, "Like moonlight off a glacier. Maybe you always look like this, I never noticed so much as now."
It didn't seem important. She could only think of his finger inside her, how good it felt as it worked her open. She pushed him down to the tiled floor, into the low swirling water. His head lay just out of reach of the showerhead. "Give me—I want something bigger," she said breathlessly.
"It's ready whenever you are, Mitsuru," he said, his voice thick. "Do you have a condom?" He stroked her hips.
She spread towels neatly on either side of him, to cushion her knees. The plastic-wrapped square plinked to the floor. The towels turned soggy immediately, but they would do. She gratefully brushed her lips over his. "Yes, thank you for your concern."
The young woman knelt over him. She touched his abdomen, feeling the soft silkiness of his skin. She stroked further down. He was so hard, so full to bursting, she ached sympathetically for him. She ripped open the plastic square, unfurling the latex down his hardness, leaving a little over a finger width's worth of space at the tip.
"Heh, I should have known you'd be prepared." His face was open with anticipation, his voice a low masculine rasp.
"Please, don't move," she said. He nodded agreement. "I'm afraid this could hurt," she continued. A look of worry knurled his brow.
Mitsuru smiled him reassuringly. "It's just that—I want to go at my pace." She made her next words sound like a promise. "This time." He reached up to touch her cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment and covered his hand with hers.
She guided him to her entryway, felt his heavy purple head split her open. Water had replaced some of her lubricant; water wasn't as slippery. It would have been easier going on the bed, but she wanted him right now. Millimeter by millimeter, Mitsuru allowed herself to fall on him. Akihiko's wide eyes silently urged her on.
There was resistance and a sharp pain as she forced herself through. Akihiko groaned quietly with happiness. His strong arms pulled her down onto his torso. Their bodies were melded together, his key in her lock. If there was blood, it was washed away by the hot water rushing around them.
He wordlessly kissed the top of her head, perhaps checking on her condition. She snuggled into him. Although she didn't think she would cry, she sobbed once as she returned his kiss. The young woman buried her face into his chest. Her tears were washed away, unidentifiable.
Akihiko stroked her back. "Wow. I didn't expect you to be—Mitsuru, are you okay? Please don't cry."
She forced herself to breathe again. "It's all right. Just don't pound me like one of your opponents." She smiled weakly and shook her head, raining dark wet tresses over his muscled chest. "Come to think of it, you can do that later. But for now, please go slowly."
His lungs heaved. "Either way, I don't think I can last very long. You're tight."
Akihiko began steady, powerful strokes inside her. He was the motor and she was the cable car slowly winding up the side of a snow-capped mountain. Each thrust propelled her higher. She began to push herself down, meeting him halfway. Her body picked up speed, faster and faster to the top of the slope.
"Harder, Akihiko!" she cried out. He moaned his assent, pummeling himself into willing body, looking for his own relief while bringing hers. It pushed her to the precipice.
Something tore through her body. It took her by surprise: a blizzard, dizzying with wind and a snowfall that was almost hail. It howled like the watery typhoon that had cancelled the Culture Festival earlier this year. She had been unafraid then, as she was now. Water was simply another form of ice. The storm crashed into the walls of her innermost self, raged through the quiet halls, blasted open all the doors. She screamed her pleasure for Akihiko.
As Mitsuru spasmed around his cock, he pulled her down into a deep, almost bruising kiss. Through the haze of her climax, she felt him enfold her in electric wings, his thrusts like powerful red lightning strikes. With each stroke, he pushed her higher, through the snowfall.
In her mind, they had reached the inside of a thunderous rain cloud. Lightning struck around them, creating a loose net of light that was always changing. The light fused, the sky covered in searing white. Finally, a massive bolt hit them. It poured over them silently, like milk into a glass. She was blinded.
Akihiko roared his release. It mixed with the detonation, the sound shockwave that follows a close lightning strike. He slammed his hips snug into hers, his life force convulsing into her, crushing his mouth against hers as if he meant to return her screams.
Hearing him explode flung her, like a cork in the ocean, to the next orgasmic wave even before the first wave had fully subsided. She tore her lips away from him and screamed an answer to his roar. The air filled with a flurry of snowflakes as she writhed over him. He scraped his nails down her back and squeezed her rear, trying to push deeper inside. The third wave of climax rushed through her with the fury of an avalanche. White spots flared behind her sight, and then all was blackness as she collapsed on top of him.
When she came to, he was stroking her hair and trying to catch his breath.
He nibbled on her left ear. "Wow. You're amazing as always."
Maybe it was because he was still half-hard inside her, or maybe it was the memory of the spectacle she had made of herself. She shook her head no. If she hadn't been already flushed, she would have become so instantly.
"But you're scary," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Look around you."
For a second, she wondered where they had been transported. They were in a close, white valley. Powder snow stretched up steep hills. Hanging overhead were stubby, translucent icicles. Here and there, she could see glossy tile showing through. A warm rain still pounded her back, pouring over the both of them.
She glanced at the man underneath her, horrified. "I lost control. I could have killed you."
"The thought had crossed my mind. You're the only one of us who can truly summon without an Evoker. Then again, if this is how you lose control, I'm willing to put my life on the line for you every time you call." He shot her a playful leer.
"Sounds like Iori's rubbing off on you." Her words were dry.
"Only you get to rub off on me, Mitsuru."
"You are too much of a gentleman."
"Forget about it. I'm not dead." He ground his hips against hers as a reminder.
"Maybe Penthesilea thinks that you're part of her," she said breathlessly. Mitsuru was reluctant to be teased out of her line of thought. "Or maybe it's just that I wasn't thinking of destroying anything, so no stalagmites."
He was moving inside her with a lazy smile. She experimentally clamped her muscles around him.
"How are you—what are you doing?" he gasped in surprise. His voice turned hopeful. "I don't know if I'll survive another round right now, but do think maybe you—Penthesilea—could give me immunity from cold, if we fight in Tartarus like this?" He grinned.
"It could be enough if we're touching," Mitsuru said, smiling for a moment.
"You never know until you try it. Come on," he laughed, "'Two in harmony surpass one in perfection.' That's the Kirijo Family motto."
She felt like she had been slapped. It showed. She smoothed her face over into its usual cool mask.
Akihiko's eyes became wary. He studied her carefully, enough that she had to look away. She held his base, keeping the condom in place. She pulled herself up carefully, shuddering from the slow suction of her body releasing his.
He sat up. "Mitsuru…? Listen… I didn't mean anything by it."
She shut off the water and left the shower room. He deserved to know. If they lived through the next two months, or even if they didn't, he deserved to know. She picked up a puffy white towel and began scrubbing herself with it. Hard.
Akihiko had followed her into the main room with a towel around his waist. He seemed to be searching for something neutral to say. "Say, uh, I saw your last test scores. Which colleges did you apply for? I bet one's Tokyo University, huh? I applied there too. We can take the entrance exams together. Wouldn't it be great if we could be at the same university, or at least stay in the same city?"
She let him babble on uncomfortably, because she wasn't sure how to begin speaking. But she had to tell him. It was only right.
"Akihiko."
He trailed off to a stop.
"I don't know if I'll be allowed to go to university." She threw her towel over a chair and rummaged through wardrobe drawers looking for underwear.
"Huh? But you're at the top of the class. Why wouldn't you go?"
"They—the Kirijo Family—my father's second-in-command, Takeshi—thinks it would be best if we create a stronger alliance with the Nanjo Group. He is not confident that I will be able to lead the Family on my own." Her voice sounded like a dull knife to her own ears. She pulled on a pair of dark green silk panties.
"That means they have arranged a husband for me. I'm engaged to Eiji Nanjo."
Akihiko said quietly, "I always thought you would lead the Kirijo Family by yourself."
"I'm not sure. I'm still very young. He's a brilliant businessman. He's ruthlessly worked his way up to become president of Nanjo Entertainment Corp." She dug around the drawer.
"You don't love him." It was a statement.
"My parents' marriage was arranged for them also. They grew to love each other, for the sake of the two corporations." She had recited these words to herself many times. Mitsuru drew her arms through a matching moss green silk bra.
"Eiji Nanjo. I think I've heard of him. Sometimes he's in the news. A playboy and semi-pro kickboxer. Isn't he almost 40?"
"It doesn't matter." She plucked her yukata from the floor.
"The injuries you have. He made them." His voice was harsh, angry.
"Uncle Takeshi gave me a choice—"
"Uncle Takeshi? Have I met him?"
"Once or twice in passing, perhaps. My mother's brother leads the company for now. He doesn't wish to do this, but we need to solidify our alliances. Ultimately, it's my responsibility." There was no denying it. She didn't feel like explaining anything else. She pulled the shimmering yukata around herself, tying it tightly.
"You're not one to let someone make your decisions for you," said Akihiko tightly.
Mitsuru said nothing.
Akihiko stared at her. "You haven't had sex with Eiji Nanjo."
She crushed a corner of her yukata. What she had just done with Akihiko had gone far beyond a plain act of rebellion. Men could have lovers, women not. It was a double standard, but if Eiji ever found out, the alliance would self-destruct. "He's been trying, I told him I would need birth control while I was in school. And time to adjust to side effects. But no, I haven't allowed him to penetrate me."
"Akihiko, I am selfish. I wanted my first time performing intercourse to be with you. The way he looks at me—" She sat on the bed, and drew her legs up against her chest for protection. Mitsuru was disgusted with Eiji Nanjo and herself. "Every time I was with him, I wanted you. He doesn't care about me. I thought—I see now that I acted wrongly." Her next words came out broken and backhanded, tasting like acid. "You're an orphan. I can't marry you."
"I didn't offer. You should do what's right for the Kirijo Family," he said.
The anguish in his face shocked her. She choked back regret.
Her father's death and Ikutsuki's betrayal had disturbed her composure. She had not thoroughly considered her actions, and as a result, she had cut Akihiko's heart deeper than she had imagined possible. Tiny glittering snowflakes fluttered into the room from nowhere. Mitsuru hoped that the young man would not eventually grow to hate her.
Akihiko threw on his yukata. He closed the door quietly behind him.