As promised, early chapter before the test! Woot woot!

Enjoy!

VI: The Lovers' Affection

Lovers: Partnerships, Duality, Union, Love

Reversed Lovers: Disharmony, Loss of Balance, One-sidedness

She knows he wants to say something.

What, though? No idea.

Yesterday's panic attack (it's admittedly much easier to handle than usual), even when he still had his wits about him, and can still think, really makes the team (and herself) realize just how fragile he is outside of the Dark Hour. During one, he's competent, he's capable, he's strong and fierce. But outside it? Most of the time, he looks normal, like everyone else. But when something hits the wrong button, he could just easily spiral into a pit despair and anxiety.

Even if he always turns up normal and proficient the next day, he can still be fragile. Having that kind of image slammed into your face is a harsh wake-up call.

She, Fuuka and Junpei are downstairs, chatting idly. She hasn't asked them to wait with her, but after what they saw yesterday, they figured that Makoto could use a few more friends for their trip to the school. It's the last day of summer school, too, so at least they can have a little solace in that.

"Ah! Makoto!" Junpei calls with a wave, drawing her attention to him. He looks at least normal, save for the tiredness in his eyes and the small but noticeable bags under them. When he catches the three of them, he offers first a confused blink, then a small smile.

"Morning," He murmurs. "I thought you guys are already out."

"Figure we might go to summer class together, for once," Junpei says, carelessly slinging his arm over Makoto's shoulders. The shorter boy doesn't react much except for a grunt and a slight frown.

"Arm off me," He grumbles, then lets out an uncharacteristically loud yawn. "If you keep it up, I'm going to fall asleep on the floor and not my feet."

Unlike his usual conducts, Junpei does listen to him, this time, and carefully pulls his arm away. Makoto only nods at him before rubbing at his eyes. The three of them exchange a look, and before she knows it, she is already pushed towards Makoto.

Fuuka and Junpei are giving her those smiles. She frowns, but ultimately resigns to her fate (well, not really, she likes being with him) and waits for him to start walking.

He's pacing his steps suspiciously slowly, and Yukari has to resist the urge to ask why. When Fuuka and Junpei is a bit out of earshot, Makoto turns to her and says. "Why are you people waiting for me?"

"Can you really blame them for worrying after seeing you like that?" She says, pouting a little. "It takes me convincing them with everything I know in my book to stop them from going into your room, you know."

…That, and Aragaki miraculously turning up and shooing all of them except her away. Somehow.

It's weird how perfect his timing was, but she's not going to complain (much) if it works.

"…I see," He murmurs, looking down at his feet as they walk side by side. She sees Fuuka giving her a look, again (who'd know that she'd be such an unrelenting tease?), and she promptly ignores it. Nope, she's not going to fall into that trap. Makoto then abruptly stops. "…Yukari?"

"Yeah?" She hums, turning back to him, curious.

He's rooted to the spot, and he looks like he wants to say something. To her, specifically. But he looks torn – like he wants to, but he can't. She knows better than to pry, so she simply waits. At her silence, he looks even more forlorn, his brows knotted together, his lips set into a thin line, his jaws tense. After a moment, he lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

"Sorry, forget I said anything."

"But you haven't said anything yet," She states.

He just frowns, again. It isn't like when he's having panic attacks or being depressed or after reliving his dreams, it's… it feels like a decision he doesn't want to make, but has to. She doesn't really know how to put it, either, but the looks on his face? It doesn't outright break her heart, but it makes her uncomfortable.

He heaves out another long-suffering sigh. "Just forget it. I was about to say something stupid."

"Like what?" She says as they resume walking, and nudges his ribs a little. He only glances at her briefly before letting out a soft laughter.

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

She decides to leave it at that.

She totally forgets about the summer festival tomorrow, and only really thinks about it after Kirijou and Fuuka mentioned it during their meeting at the lounge a few hours ago.

"…Shit."

Borrowing a Yukata is actually pretty easy (thanks, Kirijou-senpai), but the problem is, who's she going to go with?

…She thinks she has an idea. But would he be up for it, though?

She sighs and makes her way down and towards the lounge. It's unusually quiet, but then again, it's the last day of summer school, so no doubt the others would've already left and out to find something fun to do.

When she reaches the first floor, she sees… Aigis, standing there, looking at someone in the kitchen with her disturbingly unflinching eyes. She blinks and walks over before following her gaze. To say that her jaw drops to the floor is not at all an over exaggeration.

Makoto and… Aragaki (in pink apron, no less!), of all people, are busy with the pans and the stoves in the kitchen, chatting quietly among themselves. It looks to her like the older boy is teaching Makoto how to cook. She just blinks at the surreality of it all before turning to the android, who's watching the scene with marked interest.

"…What are they doing?"

"Aragaki-san is teaching Makoto-san how to cook," She replies. Makoto turns to look at them with a quirked eyebrow before he goes back to the pan. The pink apron does not help. "It seems like he has been interested in Aragaki-san's food for quite some time now, so he asked for a lesson when the chance came up."

"…Okay?" She says, tilting her head slightly. She spies Koromaru wagging his tail at them, and the shorter boy promptly brings to the canine a tray of warm food.

"There, there, good boy," Makoto murmurs with a gentle smile, hand scratching Koromaru's head and patting his snout lightly when he looks up.

Then she catches Aragaki looking at them. He takes a long, unmoving pause, before he let out a noise that's right between a choke and a yell.

He immediately rips the apron off of his torso. "Why the fuck are you there, too, Takeba!?"

"I thought you saw her already," Makoto comments off-handedly as he stands up. Aragaki gives him a look that could've killed a person.

"Yuuki, you asshole—"

"Not my fault you're too engrossed to hear her footsteps," Makoto shrugs. "Are we going to stop here, though? The food's almost done. It would be kind of a shame."

"…Fuck you."

"No thank you, I'm not bisexual."

Yukari splutters at that, while Aragaki just sighs and scratches the back of his head. "…Fucking fine. But when I moved into here, I'm going to kick your ass into the fucking sun, and you can bet your life I will."

Makoto rolls his eyes, but dutifully goes back to the stove while Aragaki just points at the table. She takes the invitation (threat) and sits down. When Koromaru gives a few barks, Aigis comments, "He said that Makoto-san is very gentle, and that the food Aragaki-san made is the best."

She could see both of their faces redden slightly at that, but decides against grilling them about it. She isn't crazy enough to tease Aragaki, and she could do that to Makoto in private.

…Huh.

"Hey, Makoto?" She calls, a bit unsure.

"Yeah?"

"You free tomorrow?" She says, a bit hopeful. She ignores the look Aragaki is giving her.

"…I don't have anything planned. Why?"

"Wanna come with me to the festival?"

Something crosses his eyes, too brief to make out, but long enough to make her feel uneasy. He looks away and back at the simmering meal as he pours the content into the plate. Aragaki is looking at him with a knowing gaze, and pats his head softly before he takes the plate from Makoto and to the table.

His reaction is… worrying. He just keeps his eyes on the kitchen counter as he pulls the Apron off and neatly folds it with his arms. After a long sigh, he turns to her with a smile on his lips that doesn't match the unreadable glint in those pair of steel gray.

"Sure."

She frowns slightly, but is pulled out of her thoughts when Aragaki slams the plate down before her. She blinks at the golden fried rice. "Uh… what?"

"You taste it. I've already done that. He's pretty good," He says, pointing his thumb towards Makoto as he gives the older boy a short bow. "Hey, make sure you put all the ingredients back where I told you to, m'kay? I'll tell you when I'm free next."

"Okay," He murmurs. "Thanks, Aragaki-senpai."

"Don't mention it," Aragaki says. "Then, I'm off, still got three or four more boxes to pack."

"Do you want help?"

Another pause. "If you could clear up my room enough for a few boxes, then yeah."

"I'll do that," He hums with a small smile. "See you around, Senpai."

"Alright."

When the older boy leaves the vicinity, she turns to Makoto who's promptly trying to make his way to the steps. She nearly topples the plate when she catches his wrist, but she ignores it. Aigis is looking at them strangely, and Koromaru is giving out a soft whine, but she ignores them, too.

"What?" He turns around, a scowl on his face. He seems tenser than usual, and she notices the slight tremor under his externally calm voice.

"There's something you're not telling me," She says, not a question, but a statement.

He doesn't deny it. He doesn't answer at first, only offering her an apologetic look. When he tugs at his wrist, she lets him go, and he looks at her for a moment that stretches into an eternity. The uneasiness is back, and for a second, she feels the cold fingers of dread touching at her heart. She bites back the gasp threatening to escape her lips and just keeps her eyes on his, trying to figure him out.

He only gives her a smile. "You're right."

"Tell me, then," She whispers, she quietly demands, she hopelessly pleas. That voice is back, and it's telling her that she can't let him go.

"No."

"Why?" She hisses out, reaching for his hand again. For the first time since his breakdown, he pulls it away from her reach. She then says, a little louder. "Can't you just talk to me?"

He doesn't answer her question, only giving her a look that speaks louder than any words someone like him would say, that makes her uneasy.

Then, he murmurs, "See you tomorrow, Yukari."

And then, she's alone.

She doesn't know if she's looking forward to the festival, or dread for it.

The Yukata is… comfortable, but it makes her a bit nervous. She twirls around in front of the mirror for a few seconds before sighing and just accepting the fact that no, the dress is not the only reason for her discomfort.

Makoto's eyes and body languages are nerve-wrecking, to put it lightly. She caught a glimpse of him in the morning, feeding Koromaru and talking with Amada, but when he looked at her, there were pain and reluctance and sorrow behind his eyes. He covered them all with a gentle smile, like the ones he always gives her when they're mostly alone, or when she's playing with his hand.

Why were those emotions in his gaze when he looked at her? What did she do wrong?

Nothing comes to mind.

She sighs; she needs someone to talk to about this. Thinking about it alone would only cause her to run in circle like a dog chasing its own tail. She thinks she has an idea of who that someone would have to be, but she couldn't do that tonight. She just pushes the thoughts to the furthest, darkest corner of her mind and focuses on the present. For now, the festival awaits.

When she descends down to the first floor, Makoto is already there, with his MP3 and his earphones, drowning out his surroundings. She forces the uneasiness away and walks over, tapping him lightly on his arm. He jumps a little at that, a hand over his heart as he turns to her. Damnit, she always forgets that unnoticed physical contacts with him are… a bit of a taboo.

When he calms down, he turns to look at her fully, pushing himself off the wall. The intensity of his gaze is making her face heating up like steel burning in the furnace, and when she's about to ask why, he just says, simply, as if stating a simple fact. "You're beautiful."

She stammers. "Uh… um, thank you?"

He offers a smile before nodding towards the door. "Shall we?"

He doesn't need to ask twice.

The walk towards the shrine is quiet, a little bit uncomfortable, but the gentle look in his eyes is calming down her nerves quite a bit. He keeps his hands inside his pockets, and she has to resist the urge to pull his hand out of it and play with it like she usually would; doing that in the confine of their dorm is fine, but out in the public is… a bit questionable.

Not that she would mind, of course, but the poor boy wouldn't want more attention than he's already received from the strangers.

The shrine, as expected, is quite lively, with children and games and bright lights. She hasn't had much chance to actually enjoy a festival before, and it makes her feel like a little kid again as she admires the decorations and the smell of delicious food.

"Come on, slowpoke!" She calls him as she notices him falling behind. He blinks a little before smiling slightly, hastening his steps to meet hers. "You've ever been to a summer festival before?"

"Not often," He hums, also taking the time to look around. "It's pretty."

"I know, right?" She giggles as she twirls a little bit, careful not to step on the lines on the ground.

She steps and skips around, enjoying the feeling of her sandals hitting and scratching against the hard surface, letting the warm wind and the brilliant light embrace her. It takes her a moment to realize that Makoto isn't following her, so she turns around with the laughter at her lips. The light behind him is like a halo, creating a sharp contrast of color as it enfolds him, and it takes her eyes maybe a second too long to actually make out the look on his face.

He's smiling at her, gentle and warm, but at the same time doleful. She stops, and the moment turns into an endless stretch of time. The world halts for a moment as she watches him. His eyes are kinder than any, his smile small but tender. But the dim light in those pair of gray as they lock with hers make her breath hitches.

She's seen that expression countless times before, but she could never describe it when it's on his face – but now, now she finally knows what it is, and it's sinking her heart to the bottom of the sea.

"…Makoto?" She whispers, the smile wiped clean from her face as she walks closer to him. He doesn't pull away, but he's wiping tears – he's crying – away from his eyes with his left hand. His breath is steady, but he still refuses to look at her. "Hey, Makoto—"

"You really should've come here with someone else," He murmurs with a broken laughter. "I'm not even mentally stable. I'm broken and I'll never be whole. And look, I'm bringing the mood down. So why me?"

She presses her lips into a thin line before forcing herself to smile. "Because you're gentle and kind like no one else. And you're a dear friend, so I see no reason why it can't be you."

To make her point, she puts a hand on his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat. He looks down, his hands twitching slightly, but he doesn't do anything else. In the end, he sighs and just shakes his head before grabbing her wrist, almost too carefully, and pulling it away from his heart. "You're going to be the death of me, Yukari."

She frowns. "How so?"

He shakes his head again. "Aren't the fireworks soon? Don't let my dumb depression keep you—"

"Your depression is not dumb—"

He cuts her off. "Come on, let's go. I know just the spot."

The way he changes the subject irks her, but before she could really protest, he's already leading her to some place that only he would know.

There's a small hill right next to the shrine, and from there she could see Amada and Aragaki enjoying the lights and the atmosphere.

Makoto greets the pair in a subdued voice before he leads her further, into the spot where there's nothing and no one else but the fireflies and the evening breeze that would keep them company. He gestures at a stone bench under a cherry blossom tree. While it's regrettably not the season for the pink petals to fall, the tree itself is still quite a sight.

She accepts his invitation and sits down, and he joins her, leaving a bit of a distance between them. When she's quite sure no one would notice, she calls for his attention with a hiss. When he looks at her, she points down, and doesn't wait for his reply as she pulls his hand out of his pocket and starts playing with it, like she always does when they're alone.

She pulls him closer (maybe against his wish, but she just doesn't care at this point) and sets his hand in her lap as she pushes his fingers open with hers, rubbing at the scarred (there are more and more scars every time she does this) fingertips, at the knuckles, at his palm. His hand is growing more callous each and every day, but she doesn't really mind it.

He looks like he wants to say something, but it seems he just scraps the idea and says something else, instead. "You really like playing with my hand, huh?"

"Duh, it's fun," She says, still creating the blueprint of his hand with hers. "What? You don't like it?"

"…No," He mumbles quietly, heaving out a sigh. "You know what? That hand is already yours, at this point. Just do whatever you want with it."

"Ehehe," She giggles quietly, before finally interlacing her fingers with his, like she always does. His hand is a little tenser than usual tonight, but it's still warm. She doesn't mind it.

They sit there in silence, waiting for the fireworks to light up the night sky. He quietly scrolls through the playlist, his brows a little furrowed, before he puts the earphones on and seems to repeatedly click at the volume button. She could see the volume bar being over-maxed, and he sighs again before letting the MP3 falls to his chest.

"Why are you trying to listen to music during a time like this?" She asks, flipping his hand over slightly so she would have better access to his thumb.

He frowns. "Just to make sure I won't go into a panic attack if the noise is too loud."

…Oh.

"Oh, uh—"

"S'okay, it's not like I've told you everything about myself," He says with a low hum and an apologetic look, again. She really hates the way he blames himself for everything. He doesn't have PTSD by choice, goddamnit. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Just enjoy the show."

"I'll not enjoy this alone, you idiot," She mutters, tugging at his hand a bit more. "Really, if you're not okay with this, we can leave—"

"No," He says with finality, disallowing her from ever retorting. She frowns – he rarely forces issues with anyone, but when he does, she just knows that one should never, ever refuse him. He just looks at her for a moment longer. "I want to be here. With you."

The way that he breathes those last few words really send a pleasant shiver down her spine.

She ignores it. She also tries to ignore the heat creeping up her face as she returns her gaze towards the sky, her fingers still idly touching his hand. The silence is giving her maybe a bit too much time to contemplate on things, and whether that is a good thing or not remains to be seen.

The fireworks are but a few minutes away, and as she runs her fingers up his wrist until she finally stops at the wristwatch, she realizes absently that maybe, just maybe… this is not something just friends would be doing. Holding hands while he's breaking down and hyperventilating is justifiable, but doing this when everything's alright and enjoying it? It's questionable.

Fuuka's question returns to her mind yet again, and she has to resist the urge to blush. Still, heat creeps up her cheek, and she looks away slightly. She could feel his eyes looking at her, a bit confused. She doesn't respond and looks away a bit more. Now all she's doing is having his hand in hers and running her thumb across the scars around his wrist, maybe even a bit too zealously.

She feels him shivers under the pad of her finger as she drags it along a long scar at the underside of the wrist after she takes off his watch. She frowns slightly when her mind starts to actually realize the significance of the wound's placement—

"…Suicide attempt?" She whispers, unsure, her thumb stops moving as she looks down at it. The absence of light makes it hard for her to make out much, but she could still see a long, faint scar that has almost disappeared into the creases of his wrist.

He tenses a little, but answers in a somber voice. "…Self-Harm."

"When?"

It looks new to her. Most of his new scars feel just like this – a bit soft. This one? It's recent. Very recent, and she doesn't like it.

It takes him a while. "I don't remember."

"Liar," She calls him out instantly. The hesitation in his voice is a dead giveaway. He does.

"You caught me," He murmurs with a mirthless smile as he looks up at the night sky, still waiting for the display of lights to adorn the dark. He then sighs. "That one was right after I tried to strangle you."

"…What."

Her hand unconsciously clenches around his, making him jump a little, but he doesn't pull away. She looks back down, tracing the scar again. There are more than one here, she realizes – not deep enough to make the scars stand out, but the location… they must've hurt when he did it.

She sets her lips into a tense line. "Makoto—"

"It's how I coped with everything," He cuts her off with a low murmur, looking down at the ground. "The pain keeps my head clear. When it's too much, I just… kind of did it. Carefully."

"Why here, of all places?"

"Wristwatch," He answers almost immediately. He planned them. He planned every last one of them, and the notion of him cutting himself up just to be able to think pains her. When he sees her expression, he only offers her a sad smile. "I'm sorry."

"I just wish I was able to help sooner," She murmurs as she forces the tears back down. She won't cry, not in front of him. He's already seen enough for a lifetime, and she refuses to add her sadness to his plate. "I just wish you'd be able to ask for help sooner."

He laughs quietly. "Me too."

She keeps her fingers there, light and careful, tracing the scars that until now had never been brought to her attention. It makes her thinks about whether or not he has more than this – and she could only whimper at the thoughts of him bringing the blade down onto his own flesh. She shakes her head and keeps her focus on exploring his wrist instead, trying to distract herself from the morbid thoughts, at least for tonight.

Luckily enough, the fireworks start lighting up the night, loud bangs accompanied by tiny spots of colors that expand and blanket the sea of dark. She has never really had a chance to appreciate one before, so she could only look on in awe at the beauty of it all.

"They're so pretty," She breathes, eyes glued to the night sky.

"Yeah," He hums. "They are"

She thinks she hears him whispers something else after that, but the sounds of the erupting fireworks drown him out, so she isn't too sure.

What she's sure, however, is that for the first time… she's starting to acknowledge that her feelings towards him are already far more than being mere friends.

There it is, folks! How was it? :D

Maybe see you next week, maybe not, depends on the test. Oh well! Until next time!