There's an uneasiness bubbling inside his chest when they part in silence, Minato has things to do before he runs surveillance from the command room with Yukari, and Akihiko ends up training again that night to chase it all away. It's just a prep routine before Tartarus, that's all, he got shadows to eliminate, and it never hurts to be well warmed up for a bout or ten.
They have no association with this. That wouldn't make any sense, it's just a weird timing. Takeba joined shortly before they did too.
So far, all his hunches paid off: the link between the large shadows and the full moon and how to find Yamagishi using her last known location, but this time he'd prefer to be wrong. Probably just a coincidence these full moon entities started to wake up in spring when the twins transferred to the dorm, always outside Tartarus too, maybe they went dormant after the incident for some reason. The chairman might have more information, but it's still a few days until he's set to visit, and Akihiko wants to ask about the rising Apathy victim cases too.
In the meantime, I got other things to tackle today. Very important things.
She's been gone all day to tame the whirlwind of her schedule, they're bound for some staircasing later, and he told Minato he would take care of it.
I keep my promises.
Akihiko's completely beat by the time they get out of Tartarus, training beforehand on top of the morning routine was perhaps a bit much. Those new floors are no joke and while they ran a slightly bigger party than usual, the challenge was up to par, with large amounts of new shadows they had never seen before. No one was seriously injured, but they all have a few new bruises and scrapes that might take a few days to heal completely.
It was good training though; full moon is coming up soon. How many floors does this tower have anyways?
At least Minako is still in high spirits despite her exhaustion, there's a bit of dried blood on her collar that speaks volume as to the ferocity of the night and she went all out. Her braid is half-undone and dripping from the aftermath of some ice volleys as she walks at the back of the group next to him, letting Mitsuru take the lead of the procession back home with Koromaru.
"So… how bad was it?"
Her fingers delicately brush along his naked forearm just above his gauntlets, covered with mostly healed scratches, and he shivers at her touch. Akihiko's eyes dart nervously to the rest of the column in front for some reassurance of secrecy; it's not like he has a good track record about his teammates' awareness, especially not today. Luckily, Iori seems busy discussing common slangs with Aigis and Fuuka, perhaps he threw him off the trail for real last time.
"Stings a bit, but I heal fast, this is nothing."
She lets out a low chuckle of amusement and he looks back to her, confused.
"I meant your outing. He didn't tell me anything."
He doesn't really want to recall what Minato said though, not right now, and by association the kitchen interruption that occurred because that was appalling to say the least. And then there's what they were doing and…
Don't get weird.
"Well… He's… quite fond of the Umiushi special. Why?"
Minako turns her gaze to him, locking his own to drown into the red that haunts his mind, and he can't help but blush despite her amused smirk. Akihiko might not want to think about it, but she certainly is if the scorching of her eyes is any indication. Now there's a wavering rush of white noise pulsing through his eardrums and the boiling cold taste of strawberries tingling like a ghost on his tongue and he gulps it down, blinking.
"We didn't really talk about…"
Minato did, and he's the devil. But the rest was…
He tries hard not to think about the second half of his conversation with her twin, or it's probably going to show in some shape or form on his expression. He's a tad too honest and she might start asking questions if he seems to know things she never told him firsthand.
Today, there shouldn't be anything dousing the light of her smile, or the sheen in her eyes, no lead cloak of painful memories binding her down like her hairpins usually do with her copper mane.
Clear skies should be the forecast in every page of your planner.
He needs a distraction from the absence of her usual accessories, it's all he can think of now in a weird roundabout way, so Akihiko just runs two fingers from his free hand through the wet locks sticking to her brow like he always meant to just do that. He does it often, she won't think anything of it. Probably.
"Do you mind if we… stick around tonight?"
We might not be able to do that often when school resumes. Today's a bit special.
She bites her cheek to disguise the dimple of her knowing smile and looks sideways like she's considering the question seriously when he notices the source of the red pinpricks on the white of her shirt collar. It's nothing serious, he healed most of it with Polydeuces when she got clipped by that floating shadow knight in passing, but it's still nagging at him like a failure.
"Actually, that's not a request. I'm taking a look at that when we get back."
"Mitsuru's rapier did me worse than this, don't worry about it."
She's so stubborn.
But at least she did let him take a look after her post-Tartarus shower, claiming the hot water would wash the dried blood away from the gash, and she wasn't wrong per say. It's still going to leave a bruise on top of the leftover cut line, and while it's part of the job, Akihiko doesn't care much for it when it involves her and today it annoys him to no end.
"I could have done it myself. Seriously senpai, I'm not a princess."
It twists to breaking inside, that you would even have to do this in the first place.
Her tone sounds half-amused, half-exasperated like he's ridiculous, yet she humored his request once everyone patched themselves up and went to bed. Akihiko bites his lip before he answers, he's delicately applying some numbing ointment with the tip of his little finger at the back of her neck as if he's blending watercolors, his thoughts just paper planes in the wind.
I know it's silly, it just makes me feel better. Give me this.
"I'm well aware."
Standing behind her while she sits on one of the stools of the lobby's counter, he can't see her face and doesn't elaborate further, yet her cheek turns to the right with an eyebrow raised. As soon as he's done, Minako spins around and catches his wrist in her palms to observe his own scratches in reply. She's burning his pulse with the pads of her thumbs, probably feeling how hard his heart is shuddering right now, and mellow red stars perk up to glance at him.
"Did you overdo it today? Your hands are shaking."
He forgot how any medication, even if left at room temperature, feels chilly to the touch. He despises the cold; it makes him stiff, it chars in a disturbing way and when he's tired it's so much worse. But combined with the warmth of her hands, it's just a weird reminder of this morning and he blinks several times because that's very distracting.
"…Maybe a little."
Now she frowns his way while repacking the med kit, hiding a yawn behind one of her hands when she stores it in the proper cabinet.
"You keep telling me to rest and you don't even take your own advice."
Look who's talking. You're dead on your feet.
"How about we fix that?"
It's better if she lays on her back, that bruise might be numbed now but straining her neck won't do her any good tomorrow morning. That makes it a little harder for him to get comfortable though, as usual once they lay down, he's stiff with prickly tension and tries to power through it with some difficulty. Eventually Akihiko just raises himself above her on one elbow, mingling his fingers with the copper ribbons that splash across her pale face and hesitating because she looks almost asleep already.
Her eyes don't look as glazed as before when she opens them and her lazy smile is dancing upward to let a murmur out.
"You got things you want to talk about?"
Because that sounds like an invitation, he lightly brushes his lips on her cheek and feels her shiver. He's too tired to ponder if he should or not, and he's supposed to distract her.
A diversion that works both ways.
"I always like talking with you."
The long laces of black framing her rubies fly up and settle down in suspension over a different expression, kindled to fiery life when she admires him.
"I think we had a conversation, earlier."
"I'm down for that martial art screening, it sounds fun."
He cracks a grin, pushing her hair back so he can look at her better. It's true too; he hasn't gone to watch movies in a while, perhaps he can pick up some training cues. Even in a packed theater, it's still time with her and that's always entertaining. Minako blinks and lowers her gaze toward his neck, thumb tracing his cheekbone absently while licking her lips.
"Its not what I'm referring to…"
I know.
"The part about no running tomorrow? You're right, we need sleep."
It's a dance they do often, it's in the way they fight and how they talk sometimes, running circles around each other back-to-back like it's too much to both look the same way. And now the red is a solar flare about to lash out.
"Not that one. It felt like we were saying important things, too…"
Akihiko never forgot that specific moment on the plush red velvet, when he indulged in the taste of her for the span of three breaths; it's padlocked away but sometimes he cracks the lock to look back at it in secret like one admires old scars.
He's always held back in fright despite that obsession, about everything that surrounded that single point of contact, it has a rawness that leads down a path where no words need to exist and he loses his mind. Back then it occurred too soon too fast, like a chapter out of order in a book, but now it's not the same.
The fact that it happened today by almost accident makes him crave it again to distraction, just to confirm that it was real. That she is, that they're alive and sharing this together this time. His lips flutters on hers to speak, stealing her breath.
"Really? Like what?"
There's no haste in her return kiss, even her nails on the nape of his neck are barely stroking yet he's trembling.
Keeping his mouth to hers to glide leisurely, he slightly reorients himself to lean higher above her, freeing another hand to lace with one of hers pulse to pulse. His other palm settles on her neck on the unwounded side, barely cradling the side of her jaw when he dips sideways and parts his lips to match hers, caressing her tongue with his own.
The rope is all gone now.
It's a communion that's terrifyingly gentle, all molten fire and quiet wordless melody, the perfect antithesis of how strong they're clasping each other's fingers in a mutual death grip.
"Your hands are shaking."
Her red irises are eclipsed by black moons, leaving just burning crescents in his view when he nuzzles his nose to her cheek to catch his breath.
"Yours too."