Akihiko has been fumbling with the camera controls for almost thirty minutes now, trying to get the hang of swapping and adjusting the views. It's something to keep busy and he better get the practice in before the Dark Hour, he's not the most tech-savvy person and this takes some getting used to.
I'm only really good at breaking things, apparently.
He scratches his hair irritably, there's a sparking itch crawling up his neck and he keeps clacking the wrong keys. Now if he could only get the gallery view up again that would be nice. Computers are like the half-formed words crowding his mind; they make no sense and what he wants to find is never where he expects it to be.
He takes a shaking breath, grumbling, and tries again. He accidentally brings up the dorm cameras from the lobby and barely takes a glance before shutting that down quickly.
I don't even want to know.
He saw one of them locking the door, and that's all he needed. They're en route, whoever they currently represent in the syntax of the five figures he saw get out of the dorm vaguely, and he's here. Some of them stayed to sleep, he'll never know who, It doesn't matter.
It will take them a while to get to Gekkoukan and he just needs to figure out that stupid gallery option, avoid looking at the screen in case he spots her hairpins in the staircasing group and wait until the Dark Hour hits. Once they're in, Akihiko can just wait here until the clock resumes, go to bed, and toss around like he always does.
He's mad, confused, forlorn and mostly tired. Maybe it's a clumsiness born of frustration, but he passes a hand on his face to dispel the brain fog and accidentally hits something on the keyboard with his elbow. The gallery view is magically set on screen, and he couldn't say why.
I'll take it.
Apparently when you stop trying, sometimes things get fixed by themselves. Too bad it's limited to technology in his case.
He looks at the clock; twenty minutes to go. Crossing his arms on the console counter, Akihiko rests his head on his wrist, looking toward the window absently. He moves his foot from toes to heel in circles on the carpet to stay awake, his storm gray eyes fixed on the billowing overcast outside.
Reality lurches this way and that as the clock strikes midnight, reverberating in the command room like a bell. The sky changes hues, the lightbulbs flicker and dim out, then the air turns stale. Akihiko sighs and gets up, stretching. This is going to be so much worse than the month he spent in recovery. He takes a cursory glance at the screen, taking stock of the cameras now that he dares to look; nothing to see so far.
The glare of the monitor, sickly green, is hard to endure in the filter of the Dark Hour from up close, so he takes a walk around the spacious command room to find the best vantage point, finally setting on the corner of one of the sofas. He can alternate between the screen and the window outside to rest his eyes, they're prickly because of fatigue. He rubs an eyelid with the top of his wrist absently.
There's the slightest of creak from the baseboards in the corridor.
Should have closed the door all the way.
The wood groans again softly, then a third time. For a second, he's very tempted to feign being asleep, but it might invite the intruder to wake him up, so he settles on looking out the window with a scowl. That usually deters people from messing with him and he doesn't even want to acknowledge whoever it is.
Except he can recognize that lithe silhouette from the corner of his eye anywhere and he's going to implode from inner chaos. He should turn around, say something, look at her, anything, but he's stuck facing the window and biting the inside of his lip in sudden dread.
At least she stayed.
And judging from what he gathered from her attire, she rested. Her hair is down, and she's dressed in the kind of comfortable loungewear one wears to sleep. Minako walks slowly to stand behind him until he feels her warmth near his head, and he murmurs.
"You should be in bed."
She sighs softly.
"This is a two-person job, and I hate having nightmares."
The Dark Hour is always remarkably silent by its very nature, and without the echoes and marble floors of Tartarus, Akihiko can distinctly hear her lick and pinch her lips nervously. Something inside his chest goes sideways at the sound, then cloth shuffles and her fingers are barely brushing the space next his hair like a gust of wind, as if she's hesitating. He really wants to reach around and catch her hand to hold it, but he clenches his on his lap instead.
If you step back again, I'll break.
He bites down, it's easier because he's not looking at her and he tries his best to focus on the window.
"You're stronger than any of us. I know that… But I wish you didn't have to be."
He pauses, catches a breath, exhales shakily, squishing his eyes shut.
"I just… didn't want you to risk yourself. The thought of you fighting, and slipping, or getting hurt, it… it just fucks me up inside."
He can feel Minako sit down in his line of sight, next to him, so close yet so far away. It's really hard to look at her, the crimson of her eyes is shimmering with wetness akin to blood because of the stopped time and she looks so fragile. She gazes at his balled fists with anguish, drawing a shuddering breath. Her hand is trembling when she raises it toward his face until her fingertips press in the silver above his left ear. Cupping his cheekbone with her palm, she brushes her thumb above his eyebrow, looking at him with a mix of wonder and sadness.
"I'm sorry Akihiko… it's hard to…"
His eyes are definitely going wild and he can't help but lean into her hand. She's whispering again.
"The closer you are… the more… defenseless I get. If I have a weakness, it's definitely you."
His brain chokes on that one, hard. He tries to pull at the clouds in his mind but they all evade him so he settles to talking in a different way, nuzzling her hand and pressing a glove on top of it to keep it close. He rests his lips on the inside of her wrist, where her pulse is dancing like mad, the warmth of her skin marring his cheeks red as he finally answers.
"I guess we really are the same… because… that goes both ways."
He feels her heartbeat for a few seconds, relishing the proof she's here, alive, before he draws shivers on her skin with his breath.
"I just want us both to live long enough… to figure out what this is."
Minako nods, her eyes melting into his like cinders, shooting stars falling from her lashes.
"I'm sorry, I'm just… so tired and…"
He trails his glove from her hand to her elbow, gently beckoning her toward him, his other arm barely extended in invite. And she accepts, melting into him with such complete abandon that he leans backward with her, letting his head lay on the sofa's armrest.
Akihiko's smothered under a blanket of living fire, her face burning through his bones where it lays on his chest and he drapes an arm around her shoulders to push her closer. Her fingers are still cradling the left side of his face and he puts a hand back over hers, not wanting her to let go. His ears are filled with reverberations as she strokes the hair above his ear, and he dares not move. He's just looking at the monitor with hooded eyes, his lips on her pulse, holding her as she falls asleep on him.
They've been motionless for more than thirty minutes, Akihiko just listening to her heartbeat like it's all that exists when a weird sound starts coming from the console. One of the feeds is flashing red and yellow with a "Motion Detected" warning printed on top.
Shit.