Summary: It's a very small gesture, something no one else would even think twice about. But when it comes to them, it changes things.
Note: for Shuake Hell Sunday Prompt event. Prompt: flowers and honey.
Warnings: Genderbent, Author Projecting Her Sickness On Characters.
Disclaimer: Don't own P5.
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Makoto knocked on Mitsuki's door impatiently, not waiting for a response before she pushed it open and stalked in.
"Mitsuki-chan," She said sweetly, a kind and caring smile on her face reeking of more fakeness than Mitsuki's after three consecutive all-nighters, "So nice to see you, my dear roommate and colleague."
Mitsuki, uncaring about any pretense of being nice, just glared at her through bleary, red-rimmed eyes, huddled under her blankets and sniffling.
"What do you want, Makoto-chan?" She hissed, her voice hoarse and cracking at the end. She hastily covered her mouth as she was overtaken by a coughing fit.
Makoto dropped her fake smile and narrowed her eyes at Mitsuki, concern flaring into life within her at hearing how Mitsuki sounded ready to cough up a lung, possibly also the rest of her internal organs if it kept up.
Throwing their usual cautiousness in their interactions with each other to the wind, she placed her hand on Mitsuki's back and started rubbing it in soothing circles.
Thankfully, Mitsuki wasn't feeling petty enough today to move away from Makoto's touch, allowing Makoto to continue her ministrations.
"Maybe we should get you something warm to drink?" Makoto murmured, "Maybe something with honey? Honey is good for sore throats."
Mitsuki shrugged and gestured vaguely at her nightstand, where an empty, used mug stood, "Akira made me some tea with honey before she had to leave to get some medicine."
Next to the mug was a small vase with fresh flowers, and Makoto suppressed a snort.
"I see your minion is taking good care of you."
Mitsuki shrugged again, "I have good taste in minions."
"You only have the one minion," Makoto said dryly.
"Like I said. Good taste."
Makoto shook her head and reached for the mug, "I'm going to make you some more until Akira gets back." She stood up and left the room, closing the door gently behind her, completely aware of Mitsuki's eyes boring a hole into her back.
The two of them had always been at odds since they first met in high school. And university. And at work. Always going at each other's throats like they needed to draw first blood before they were satisfied. And here they were, roommates against all expectations (Makoto blamed this particular part on her sister).
But this…
Makoto absentmindedly went about preparing more tea for Mitsuki, her thoughts preoccupied with their interactions in Mitsuki's room.
That was the most honestly civil interaction they've had since… ever, really, and there was no way they could easily just ignore it, brush it under the rug, act like it never happened. Neither of them was the type to let anything the other did slide, and this was no different.
The question now was, what did this mean for them?
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End
