"You're an idiot."
Okay, so he could've said something a little nicer to the girl that was lying on the cold Momentos concrete, injured. But Ren Amamiya was beyond pissed and the time for kind words had passed.
As he leaned over his wounded ally, he couldn't help but wonder how quickly things had changed. Since when did Makoto Niijima run off alone to go battle a shadow? Since when had he become so unimportant enough that she no longer needed his help?
It had scared the hell out of him, really.
"Gee, thanks."
"You're welcome," he said bitterly. "Where does it hurt?"
"Nowhere!"
"Look at you. You probably can't even walk."
He cradled her in his arms, scooped her up bridal-style, and ignored her pounding fists aimed at his chest.
"You're making a big deal out of nothing. Put me down!"
"No." His statement was final. An unseen bruise on her leg was turning every color of the rainbow.
"What's your problem?"
Her weight was almost effortless as he walked down the empty tracks with Makoto riding shotgun. This was somewhat of a comfort to him. Carrying her made her more dependent on him; it was nice to feel useful for something.
"Are we…not a team anymore?"
She cleared her throat and considered the meaning behind his question. Of course they were for goodness sake. But wasn't she strong enough to handle a mere shadow on her own? Sure, she had gotten a little banged up in the process, but she had defeated that bastard as soon as Ren ran up to help. Makoto Niijima wasn't the weak, little girl she used to be. Things had changed.
"Of…of course we are."
"Then why did you go and fight alone? If we did it together, you probably would've gotten away without a scratch."
"I can handle a scratch."
He frowned at her and ran his thumb over a gash on her arm. "Does this look like a scratch to you?"
She was a big girl, despite what Ren believed. Honestly, she had been through much worse. There was just a couple cuts here and there that could use a Band-Aid, in her opinion. She said nothing.
He carried her to the entrance of Momentos in silence, setting her down before the exited the real world and got on a train. Takemi-san would know just what to do; she would patch her up nicely, and then Ren could continue being angry with her all he wanted. Only there was a problem when they finally got there. On the door of the clinic was a note with 'Closed' in big, black letters, and underneath;
Emergency call out. Should be back around four
Ren was tempted to snatch the note with one hand, ball it up, and throw it away before proceeding to take Makoto to his room. Gently, he sat her on his bed and collected the medical supplies that Sojiro kept just incase that he would need. When he came back, Makoto cocked her head to the side and stared at him in question.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to heal you."
Ren had been around enough to pick up the basics. He knew how medicines worked, and had took it upon himself to learn how to heal a wound once his Phantom Thief job had come into his life. It would be quite useful one day, he knew, and he guessed that day had come. Plus, taking her to a hospital and trying to explain why she looked like death would be far too difficult
"You sure you know what you're doing?"
"Makoto," he said patiently, as if she was a small child, "I'm properly certified to be able to handle a situation like this." He rummaged through the first-aid kit. "Now which one of these is a Band-Aid?"
She stared at him.
"That was a joke."
She wasn't laughing.
"Okay. Anyways…let's see what hurts. Take off your stockings"
"Excuse me?!" Makoto coughed
"I can't exactly check your legs if you have them on can I?" Ren sighed
Makoto grumbled as she reluctantly agreed. She reached under her skirt, but before she began to pull, she sent a glare towards Ren. He got the message and with a sigh and turned around. Makoto cleared her throat to inform him it was okay to turn back around. As she did, Makoto was averting his look as her stockings sat nearly folded beside her and her bare legs were in view
"'Think this is the first time I've ever seen her bare legs..."
He kneeled in front of her and took her tiny foot in his hands.
"Lemme know what's tender."
Gently and slowly, he ran his hands over her left foot before trailing over her calf, up the soft skin of her thigh, and to her-
"Ren!"
She was biting her lip the entire time, trying not to stop him, but she had reached her limit. Not that it was offensive or anything- no, it was far from that. Honestly, she was struggling to cope with the fact that Ren Amamiya was…turning her on. She couldn't help it, though. It was just the way he took his time to run his warm hands over every inch of her skin, leaving a tingly sensation in his trail. Plus, the way he kneeled in front of her in surrender was kind of attractive. Kind of- but nothing she couldn't resist.
He ran a thumb over a bruise on her upper thigh and she whimpered a little. "What? That hurt?"
No. But she nodded anyways, because she wouldn't dare explain why she was making noises that were unfamiliar even to her.
He unscrewed a jar and smoothed a clear balm on the supposedly hurt area. Then, he continued to travel further up her leg. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he was trying to cop a feel. That look on his face was a little too concentrated. But that couldn't be right- Ren wasn't attracted to her. He would never be like that.
Or would he? Ren had to hand it to himself- he sure was doing a damn good job of staying in control. This was unfamiliar territory- territory he had dreamed about once or twice in his entire lifetime, but that was something he would keep to himself. But who could blame him? He was a teenage boy, and teenage boys had needs. By god, she was so soft! Too bad that moan of hers wasn't one of acceptance, he was enjoying this more than he should've been.
"Woah now," she warned, grabbing his hands that were dangerously close to her bikini line. "You've gone far enough, don't you think?"
He was relieved that she had stopped him. "Alright."
He proceeded on checking the left leg from the toes to the top, focusing more on any bruises or cuts he saw than the feeling that this was the closest he'd ever get to touching her. And if he went further, he'd probably get kicked in the face by her every single day. Still, it wasn't fear that stopped him from thinking of Makoto that way. It was respect, of course. He most definitely respected her and her deliciously smooth skin.
"I'm still curious," he said idly while poking and squeezing her hips, "about what made you leave me behind."
He rested his hands on either side of her and looked up into her eyes. Yet, for some reason she could not meet them. Why was he making her feel so guilty about this? And why was he so concerned?
"I'm capable of handling a Shadow alone, you know."
"But I'd prefer if you didn't. If you're gonna get hurt, do it for something worthwhile."
"So saving lives isn't worthwhile anymore?"
He frowned at her stubbornness. "You know what I mean. Don't leave me behind again."
"What if I want to?" she scoffed. "You can't tell me how to fight."
That pissed him off again. And really, he didn't know why. There was something about her independence that really irked him. Maybe it was his nature- he hated being left out of things, especially ones that invited fighting. Maybe it was his hatred of stubbornness and defiance. Or maybe…maybe he couldn't stand the thought of her getting hurt. Sure, she had been through worse, but if it was something he could've prevented, he would do it in a heartbeat. Leaving him behind was no longer an option. He would not allow it.
"Never again, Makoto," he warned her.
She rolled her eyes. "You're overre-"
"Never again."
His voice was burning with a passion she could not understand, and his eyes were alit with intense anger. He meant business – that part was clear – but why it was such a problem for him she could not comprehend. It wasn't like she had died- that'd be impossible, with her skill. She had been through much, much worse, too. His obsession with saving her was perplexing.
"Okay," she whispered. "Fine."
He took each arm and smeared a greenish medicine that resembled smashed grass on the deeper-looking wounds before wrapping gauze around both.
"You can't move your arms for at least 10 minutes," he explained to her. "The medicine needs time to sink into the wound, and if you move around, the blood and gauze will just disturb it."
She nodded and he continued up the sides of her ribcage before feeling her slightly wince. Underneath his palm was a section of blood-stained cotton. He grimaced at the fact that it was more serious than he thought things would be. It was quite bad, really. She had probably lost a lot of blood, already. Seeing Makoto hurt had never been easy, but trying to fix it seemed even worse.
"Makoto," he breathed, running his fingertips over the patch of soaked fabric. He was at loss. There were no words for this.
"It's not as bad as it looks," she attempted to soothe him.
"The hell it's not! Is your entire front like this?"
She shook her head, and he sighed. He knew what he had to do, and it wouldn't be easy.
"Makoto," he said gently, avoiding her eyes. "I'm going to have to, uh…take off your shirt."
She just kind of stared at him.
"Er, Makoto? I kind of need your permission to do this."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Can't you just…lift half of my shirt?"
He noticed a smaller patch of red forming on her chest. She would lie and say there was nothing else, whether she realized there was or not. It was clear that the Shadow had gotten a good couple of swipes at the front of her.
"I have a feeling this isn't the only spot."
She swallowed dramatically and felt herself breaking into a cold sweat. Being shirtless in front of Ren…what would that be like? Would he stare? Would he like what he saw? Well, not that that mattered; she didn't care what he thought about her body. But then again, he had never commented on the matter. Instantly, she wished she had worn a more subtle bra that day, but something made her substitute her usual bra for something a little nicer.
"I'll just do it myself-"
"No! You can't move your arms!"
Damn. The fates sure were against her today. Well…this would be interesting.
"Okay," she whispered, defeated. "Fine."
He took a deep breath and tried to make it as subtle and professional as possible. However, it was quite difficult as his shaking fingers fumbled with the very first button. This couldn't be happening; this wasn't supposed to happen- not until he was happily married, or at least dating.
'Be a man,' he encouraged himself. 'No big deal. Think about the blood, not the boobs.'
Boobs? Did he really just say that in his head?
He gained a little (and I mean a little) confidence as he got done with the third one. But who would buy a shirt with so many? Was she trying to torture him? With each unfastening, more and more smooth, pale skin was revealed before he came to an odd piece of lacy black fabric that was incredibly unlike Makoto. What was that, and where the hell did she get it from?
Makoto, in the meanwhile, was having a panic attack. Her heart was pounding so hard, Ren probably could hear it- or feel it under his fingers. Those fingers…they would be the death of her. Millions upon millions of questions were running through her mind per millisecond. What was going through his mind right now? He couldn't possibly be enjoying this. And that ridiculous bra of hers- he was probably ready to puke.
When he had finally gotten to the end of those infernal buttons, he gently pushed the blouse off of her shoulders, brushing his hands over the bare skin. She sighed quietly and closed her eyes, unable to take his touch silently. He just felt so good that it was almost rediculous.
Now that her shirt was gone, all her mars and wounds were revealed. There was that deep gash on her upper abdomen, like he had correctly guessed. He gently wiped the blood away with a towel, careful not to hurt her, and applied the green medicine once more. After wrapping more gauze around her, he smeared the clear balm on the smaller cuts and scratches. She couldn't help but laugh a little at his tickling touch.
"What?"
She shook her head. "It tickles, that's all."
He smiled at the thought that there was still something to laugh about, despite her wounds.
"It reminds me of how my dad helped me when I was just a little kids. We didn't have much medicine, but we did our best. he'd kiss the wound and I'd say it tickled and he'd say that was magic making it better."
Ren could see her mind drifting away to memories of freedom and restriction, happiness and sorrow, and of hope.
"Now there's no one to do that for me..."
Makoto had always gotten help when she needed it, but with Sae's career, there's no one to tenderly care for her. There wasn't anyone to kiss her scratches when she fell, now that she thought about it. There had never been anyone to kiss away her tears.
"No one," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze.
Ren wanted to beat himself just for his actions inadvertently leading to this moment. How stupid could he be, to rekindle memories that obviously hurt? He knew that her life had lacked a loving figure, but he had never thought that she longed for such a thing. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to kiss her pain away, somehow.
On the top of her chest was a thin but deep gash where the Shadow had left his mark. He grabbed the green ointment again and gently applied it to the wound.
"Don't move," he gently reminded her as he stuck a patch over the spot.
She looked so sweet and sad as she watched him do his job. He wanted to erase that sadness, kiss it away, somehow. And then a strange idea popped into mind. One that seemed impossible, that was for sure, but one none the less. He just wanted to heal her soul. That was all. Surely, she wouldn't be offended.
He slowly stood up in front of her leaned his face into her neck.
"Ren," she whispered as his nose brushed against that tender skin under her chin, "what are you doing?"
"Giving you someone to believe in."
Softly, so softly, he pressed his lips over the patch that rested directly above her heart.
Her eyes slowly closed as his touch and she wanted to stop him, but she just couldn't. Her body and soul screamed 'no' against it. She could end this insanity with just a word, but even her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as it sighed and parted in wonder. His warm lips brushed over her shoulder before he withdrew them (to her great displeasure) and backed away.
He took her silence as disapproval. "I-I'm sorry-"
"Shhh. It's okay."
By the look in her eyes, he knew that it was. Bitter regrets flew out of the window as he ran his eyes over her collarbone and up to her curious face.
"Your lip- it's cut."
Had he just noticed that? He should be more aware of her beauty from now on.
He got down on one knee and stroked a thumb over her pink cheek. She couldn't help but lean into his touch, despite her instinct that all of this was so wrong. Yet, her nerves thought otherwise as they reveled in his incredibly gentle touch. Ren believed he should kiss that pain away, too.
And so he did. Carefully testing his limits, he brushed his lips against hers before pressing against them. For some miracle, they actually responded back, moving against his in a new and unfamiliar way. Her taste was that of sweet candy and joy, and her lips were like rose petals, silky and perfect. It was then that he realized what he had been missing out on all along
Her.
She leaned her forehead against his when they finally broke apart. "It doesn't hurt anymore," she whispered, smiling serenely. "Thank you."
He had almost forgotten the motive behind his contact. "You're welcome."
He moved back to get a better look at her joyful face. He had no choice but to smile, because that was the kind of hold she had on him. Gathering up his medicines and supplies, he packed away the kit and proceeded to leave the room.
"Oh, and Makoto?" he called to her over his shoulder.
"Yes?"
"Nice bra."
What an ass
He quickly dodged a pillow aimed at his egotistical head. Laughing like a child as he scampered away