Disclaimer:
I do not own the story and the concepts represented in the fiction written. This fiction and all Persona-related fictions belong to Atlus, the fantastic company that created the games.
Author's Note:
Hey, everyone! Honestly, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. There's nothing funnier than watching these two, or really any couple, navigate through the initial steps of intimacy. Plus, I'm creating the scenarios, so I can make them as funny as possible. As always, feedback is highly appreciated, and leave a comment if there's something you enjoy or want me to use more.
Comments to Reviews:
Prince of underbrush: Thanks for the review! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the previous ones.
Before
6/13
Almost instinctually, Haru opens her eyes and feels the smooth sound from her alarm wash over her bedroom. It's cozy, her tomato-shaped alarm clock glaring hot red and in sharp contrast to the rustic burgundy nightstand where it lays. She only takes a moment to appreciate her choice of décor before beginning her morning routine. Her mornings are also customary: the quick shower, brushing of hair and teeth, prepping her makeup, and her school outfit prepared the night before.
When she's partly ready, Haru spares a glance outside, passing the translucent blinds covering her bedroom window. It is gloomy, the clouds hovering lethargically in the sky, occasionally concealing the sun. Shifting her eyes in front of her, Haru takes note of the array of books stacked on her dresser. Each is of various designs, from her school textbooks to novels she's read with Akira. The Gallant Rogue is the latest piece of literature they share. Haru finds it as charming and exciting as the other novels the raven-haired male has suggested.
As she prepares her school bag, Haru's mind wanders to exams – specifically, her finals in July. She's not worried; she scored outstanding in her midterms, so her finals should come relatively easy too. Thoughts of Akira and his exams fill her thoughts more than her own. The young man had scored in the top five on his midterms, and his reputation had improved accordingly.
Now, whenever his name is brought up by students, there is talk about his intelligence, work ethic, and – to her annoyance – his attractive, angular face. Haru expects the uptrend in his reputation to continue, mainly when he receives excellent marks on his finals.
Her positive thoughts carry her to the dining table, where her breakfast is ready. Akio-san waits to welcome her fondly. Akio-san sits at the table with her while Haru indulges in her meal and offers snippets of commentary. They exchange in idle chitchat. Their talk is relaxed and juvenile until Akio-san makes a simple observation that derails the conversation.
"Madam, you are particularly radiate today," Akio-san points out. "Hm, I wonder if it has anything to do with a naughty boy?"
Haru almost chokes on her breakfast. She shallows and reaches for the cup of water within reach before responding shyly, "Maybe."
The head maid's smile is momentarily predatory before settling into a thin, curved line. "What is the nature of your relationship now? Are you – boyfriend or girlfriend or…?"
"We're not," Haru quickly responds. "We haven't discussed it yet, but I think it's OK now."
Akio-san arches a brow. "How so?"
"Given his…current stressors, I don't think a publicized relationship would be good for him. Not to mention that I'm his mentor, and I could be replaced if word reaches the teaching staff."
The head maid is nodding at her words thoughtfully. "You've given this much thought."
"I have," Haru says, ignoring the apparent roadblocks like her oh-so-delightful fiancé or her secret fears that Akira isn't genuinely interested in a relationship with her. "When the teaching staff decides he no longer requires a student mentor, maybe something more can bloom."
"That would be the ideal set of circumstances," agrees Akio-san. "Nonetheless, regardless of whether it is official or not, there is something that must be addressed."
Haru cannot prepare for what escapes the head maid's lips.
"Sex!"
Haru is so off-guard that she is like a rat racing through a maze of dead ends.
"S-sex?" She repeats, testing the word on her lips. It's like her mouth is massive and glued together because it takes an enormous effort to say more.
"Sex…?"
Understanding arrives swiftly and unforgivingly, and Haru can feel the blood rush to her pale face and the roots of her hair. She imagines that hot steam is shooting out of her ears. Akio-san either takes no notice of Haru's distress or doesn't care.
"Yes, yes," the head maid exclaims. "Sex. Intimacy. The good ol' down and dirty, the lady in the streets –"
"I know what sex is," Haru nearly stutters, hiding her crimson face behind her hands.
"Oh, well, of course," Akio-san says. "I gave you the talk years ago."
Haru lifts her head at what Akio-san says and nods slowly. The head maid gave her a rather in-depth and objective sex education. She also was the one who educated her on her body when she came of age with tips on menstruation and anything else she couldn't learn anywhere else.
And anything else a mother is supposed to teach a daughter.
The thought sits plump in Haru's mind, and a rush of emotions explodes in her chest. Before rationalizing her actions, she stands and rounds the dining table to embrace Akio-san with all the gratitude and adoration she can muster.
The head maid is momentarily stunned at the show of affection. Still, she quickly returns the hug, smiling like a friend sharing a private joke. "Oh, well, I suppose this means you agree."
"Agree?" Haru breaks from the hug to look at Akio-san questionably.
"Yes!" Akio-san exclaims. "Here, hold out your hand."
Haru does, and the head maid pulls out a box from heaven knows where and places it in the young woman's outstretched hands. Haru blinks. It is a small gray box, tiny in her hands, with the words: one-size-fits-all, built for her pleasure, and ultra-thin –
Haru drops the box like it is a hot pan. It reads ultra-thin condoms, to her absolute disbelief.
O
Outside is lovely, Akira repeats to himself for the twentieth time despite the clouds and gloom overhead. It is a lie, and he knows that, but other than Morgana grooming himself inside his desk, there is nothing to distract from –
"Tests are next month, so we'll be going over material this week and next week before moving on to the final lectures you can expect to see on the exam."
His classroom teacher, Sadayo Kawakami, plants her hands on her desk, glaring around the room to express her desire for everyone to take reviews seriously. Akira doesn't dare spare a glance in her direction. He can't. Otherwise, the anxiety in his chest will flare. Instead of Ms. Kawakami – in an unassuming yellow long-sleeved shirt and a blue denim skirt – he'll see Becky in a French-styled maid costume and pull-able twin tails.
"Pop question time," Ms. Kawakami declares. "What do you generally call a woman with a charm that sometimes leads men to their doom?"
Akira knows the answer, having been asked the question months ago. Without giving it much thought, he turns his head forward to meet the same dark brown eyes he intends to avoid. They hold each other's gazes, eyes searching for something in the other's faces. A second that feels much longer passes, and they sharply turn their attention elsewhere.
"Takamaki," calls Ms. Kawakami. "What is the answer?"
Beyond Ann's groan of frustration, nothing else discussed in class registers in Akira's mind. The lectures and reviews continue until the school bell chimes overhead, signaling the school day's end. Akira scoops Morgana into his school and prepares to depart.
Almost to the door, he is walking alongside Ann when a compelling voice reaches his ears.
"Kurusu," says Ms. Kawakami, standing behind her desk with her arms crossed, "stay behind for a moment."
Admittedly, nothing is alluring or welcoming in the teacher's tone. Still, Akira's overactive imagination – and teenage hormones – are overpowering the logic in his mind. In his mind, he replays the events of a few days ago: meeting Ms. Kawakami – or Becky – at the hotel, her maid outfit, and then receiving Ms. Kawakami's number after saving her from a lengthy interrogation from Ms. Chouno. Gesturing to Ann to continue without him, Akira reluctantly marches toward Ms. Kawakami.
Akira wants to blame Haru for his recent susceptibility toward the opposite sex. Lips to lips and chest to chest describe their time together whenever they meet for the mentorship – if it is that anymore. Their Tuesday and Friday meetings typically started and ended in a heated lip lock that wreaked havoc on his focus.
Now, walking up to Ms. Kawakami, his highly-aware brain is filled with perverse images of Ms. Kawakami smiling at him in her maid outfit. In his head, she approaches, slow and purposeful, until they are standing nose to nose, and her lips crash onto his. Then, the image changes, and Haru is in the picture, and Ms. Kawakami is stroking Haru's cheek lovingly, and both women lean forward and –
Akira roughly smacks his forehead, forcing to mind back to reality. Ms. Kawakami raises a brow, her expression wholly unamused. Somehow that only furthers Akira's imagination.
"Listen, Niijima-san's looking for you," says Ms. Kawakami. "Head over to the student council room right away."
Akira tenses. "Is…there a reason why she's looking for me?"
"Something about reports of a lost item, and she wants you to fill out some paperwork."
"I don't understand," says Akira.
Ms. Kawakami sighs, leaning back into her desk. "Even with you telling me that, I can't get you out of this. You'll find the student council room on the third floor, near the library. Got it?"
Akira nods; his mind is racing with possibilities of what the student president would want.
"Also," says Ms. Kawakami. She walks forward, close enough that Akira can see the shadows underneath her eyes. Close enough that he can reach out and touch.
"You …haven't mentioned Becky to anyone, have you?"
Akira slowly shakes his head. Her voice, soft in his ear, is conjuring images he worked hard to suppress.
"Good," says Ms. Kawakami. She steps back, but not before giving him a good look over. Her gaze stills at something below his waist, and when she looks him in the eyes, there is an amused light poking fun at him. Ms. Kawakami arcs a brow. Akira feels a blush creep down to his neck. He exits the room before the situation becomes even more awkward and humiliating.
Racing to the third floor, Akira wonders how the walk to the student council room is both long and short at the same time. He stands outside a pair of sliding doors that he assumes is his destination and stares at it for a few moments. His mind and chest are racing too fast for whatever is waiting. Hesitantly, he raises a fist to rap the door when it slides open, and intense reddish-brown eyes look at him in surprise.
"Kurusu-san," Niijima says, "I thought I heard someone. Please, come in."
While polite, her tone is sharp, which tugs his attention back and away from less appropriate thoughts.
"Have a seat here," says Niijima pulling a chair back from a long desk. She waits until Akira is seated before sitting down herself and giving him a measured look.
"I'll get straight to the point," she says, "Won't you tell me the truth behind the Phantom Thieves' incident?"
Nothing about the situation is ideal. As the conversation – interrogation – continues, the urge to crawl into a ball grows until – Pi! Pi! Pi! Pi!
"Go ahead," nods Niijima.
Gulping, Akira answers the phone.
"Hey, where you at? Takin' a dump? Hey, let's me up at the usual stop to hold our Phantom Thieves meetin'!"
And suddenly, the urge to crawl into a ball transforms into the urge to punch Ryuji in the face.
"That idiot," sighs Morgana.
Akira agrees. He doesn't have to look up from his phone to know that Niijima is smiling triumphantly.
"So, where is this secret meeting, by the way?" Niijima asks.
"Hey, dude," hollers Ryuji from Akira's phone. "Who the hell you talkin' to?"
"I'll tell you in a bit," Akira replies. "Let me call you back."
He ends the call and spares Niijima a glance. Despite how annoyed he wants to feel at her winning smile, he simply can't. The team and he were not the most inconspicuous bunch if they were so easily found out. Also, something he would never admit, Niijima's smile is distracting in a way that is becoming too common.