Disclaimer:
Praise to Atlus, the company that created the games! I do not own the story and the concepts represented in this fiction!
Author's Notes:
Here is the promised second chapter I'll be posting immediately.
Firstly, this chapter features themes of sexual assault, physical assault, depression, and more. If any of this triggers you, I recommend skipping it.
I had to include that because a friend who sometimes edits my stories really panicked over some scenes.
Anyway, I really appreciate any feedback and reviews. I also highly appreciate anything you guys recommend to help me improve my writing or if you spot any errors for me to correct. Lastly, I'll be skipping [Comments to Reviews] until next week to focus solely on pushing out more chapters. This looks like a 40 to 45-chapter story. So, we're almost there!
After
12/1
"Overcome failure at any cost, even if it means betraying others…"
A cheery jingle stirs Haru from her dreamless sleep. Almost robotically, she turns to her phone on the nightside. She listens dispassionately to the nosy alarm until the music stops. A few seconds pass, and the cheery jingle sounds again but louder. Haru sighs, throws off the mattress covers, and reaches for the device.
She turns the alarm application off just as Ann had taught her and stares at the screen. In big letters, the message Good Morning! appears in cartoonish letters. A humorless laugh escapes Haru's mouth. At first, she doubted how useful she would find the app, vastly preferring a physical alarm, but now thinks it makes an excellent alternative.
After all, it would be a while until she considers buying another tomato-shaped alarm.
Like most mornings, Haru conducts her routine to prepare for school. Courtesy of Ann and her parents, the room she borrows is designed with a tasteful blend of traditional and Scandinavian modern. It is sleek and clean with a neutral palette and a cozy choice of furniture that makes the occupant want to curl up in bed and never leave.
Thinking about the day before her and the somewhat dubious plan she is debating, Haru considers staying in bed all day.
Knock! Knock!
Haru sighs.
"Haru!" Ann calls. "Don't worry about rushing to make breakfast! I'll take care of getting the ingredients ready, so take your time!"
"Ann, thank you. What's the occasion?"
"Other than you making me breakfast every morning, I don't know? Roommate appreciation day!"
Ann laughs while Haru zips up her pink cardigan over her Shujin uniform. "Ok, I absolutely won't rush to help make breakfast."
"Promise?"
Haru smiles. "Promise."
Ann's footsteps echo as she steps into the kitchen.
Haru's smile dims slightly.
At least my mornings here with Ann are always lovely, she thinks.
X
To the older girl's surprise, the kitchen is much cleaner than she imagined, with Ann rummaging around.
"Haru, I told you to take your time." Ann turns around from the numerous cabinets she left open.
"I did," Haru says. "I didn't rush a bit and took my time. Thank you for getting everything ready for me."
Ann groans and looks over her shoulder at the mess of ingredients she left on the counter. "I think I got everything and then some, but I just can't find –"
"The flour, right?" Haru walks past Ann and reaches for the cabinet above the microwave. Inside are bottles of cooking oil and plastic tableware filled with flour.
"Why's it up there? We're too short for that!"
Haru giggles. "That's where I initially found it, so I've been putting it back here since then."
Ann shakes her head. "You should've told me! Or, I should've been paying attention."
Ann sighs. "Let's just put it in one of these first rows where we can reach it."
Haru nods. "Understood."
"And, I'll put this other stuff away. Tell me how I can help."
Ann is a valued assistant in Haru's endeavor to make their morning pancakes. Since staying at the Takamaki residence, Haru has volunteered to care for the cooking and cleaning as reimbursement.
Naturally, Ann rebuked Haru's offer, citing, "There's no way I can have my friend and guest do all that!"
Since then, the two had reached an agreeable compromise. Regarding cooking, Haru exercised her mediocre skills at breakfast, lunch, and occasionally dinner, as Ann sometimes preferred to order takeout. In return, Ann would assist Haru (when Ann wasn't stressing over school and homework assignments) and handle kitchen cleanup. Then, when it came to cleaning the house and rooms, the two agreed to clean up once a week, with their rooms being their own responsibility. The arrangement had worked flawlessly, and Ann seemed to enjoy her company. She even drags her out of her room to watch sitcoms together and enjoy sweets most days.
Ann focuses on oiling the frying pan while Haru uses the electric mixer to whisk the pancake batter. The familiar hiss of an egg hitting the hot pan and Ann's whine make Haru smile at the routineness of it all.
Reaching for another pan Ann had prepared, Haru begins her latest endeavor to make her fluffiest pancakes.
The kitchen at the Tatakamaki residence is another example of Ann's parents' impressive eye for decor. The stove, a commercial six-burner gas range wide enough for each of them to work, is a marvel. Along with the appliances, commercial and of the same brand, marble countertops, and tastefully designed backslash, Haru dreams of an identical quaint and cozy space for her home one day.
Breakfast is a simple affair that the two enjoy on the kitchen island.
"Haru, tea or coffee today?" Ann asks as she stands and reaches for the cabinet full of coffee pods.
"Coffee," Haru responds, pouring a small amount of syrup on her pancake. Well, a little compared to Ann's fountain on her triple stack.
"Great! How about sugar?"
"Um, none for me."
Ann gives the older girl a look of dismay. "What!? You're taking it black?"
Haru giggles at her friend's expression.`+
"I'm trying to follow Akira and Sojiro's example. They say you can taste the coffee better without anything added."
"B-but coffee just tastes like mud otherwise! Argh! Ok, any creamer?"
With a smile, Haru shakes her head.
Ann sighs. "Suit yourself."
Ann readies the coffee machine, drops a dark roast coffee pod, and sits again.
"You know," Ann says, stabbing into her first pancake, "thanks for staying with me. It's not your choice since your house flooded."
Haru nods at the lie she had told Ann.
"But it makes this crazy situation somehow manageable. Before, I never really minded that my parents would pick up, leave, and leave me in this big house alone. Most kids our age would be happy in my shoes. But most kids don't have to deal with what we're going through now."
Ann shoves another mouthful of pancake in her mouth and then moves to cut into her two sunny-side-up eggs. The golden-yellow yolk spills upon contact with her knife.
"If I'm being frank, I've been having a hard time dealing with everything with Shido's palace. It could be like that last lap nerves, something Ryuji would say, but I'm constantly anxious. Maybe that's why Akira said we need to watch out for each other's well-being; I'd be doing much worse without you around."
Ann's confession is followed by a sincere smile at Haru. And Haru can only return Ann's genuineness halfheartedly. After all, most of her thoughts and dubious plans are not so well-intentioned and wholesome.
Still, she returns her underclassmen's truthfulness with, "Thank you, I feel the same."
"I'm glad," Ann says. "Also, thanks for putting up with me and all. I know I've been dragging you out of your room to spend time together. It... helps, I think. Um, has it helped you? Do you feel anything different with your persona?"
Aw, Haru thinks, the crux of the matter.
Sometimes, Haru marvels at Akira's charisma and how faithfully the others follow his words and advice. Since his vague instruction after the failure at Shido's palace, each Phantom Thief has diligently sought ways to help maintain team morale and stay alert to any heightened stress any of them is experiencing.
Don't want to have their persona shattering in the heat of battle like me, Haru thinks darkly.
To combat the possibility, the conversations via text have skyrocketed, with Mako-chan sending a motivational message each day around lunch without fail. Haru enjoyed those messages but found the entire thing silly and adorable of Mako-chan.
"Here you go," Ann says, "One delicious black coffee!"
Haru giggles, accepting the cup Ann presents her. "One day, I'll get you to try it."
"Just plain coffee? No, thank you. Got to load up on my sugar and cream for the day."
Haru hums in response, quietly drifting off like the wisps of steam coming from her cup. Coffee has always had a more contemplative effect on her than tea. This time is no different as her thoughts stray to the mother-daughter pair she had bumped into the previous night.
Such a lovely pair, Haru thinks wistfully.
Envy is nothing new to her, as Haru can admit to yearning for the simpler joys in life. Like less stress-inducing responsibilities, a normal upbringing, a father who is present, and a mother.
Normal, like what the mother and daughter seemed to have.
Haru smiles, putting her cup down on the counter. She imagines a different picture in her mind. Drifting off, she sees an older version of herself. For the most part, this older version of herself isn't much different from her now. Perhaps her face is more weathered with age, and her curls have noticeable greys. More than anything, she might be a bit plumper. Still, she can attribute that imaginary fact to the little girl alongside the fictional version of her.
And what a miracle that little girl is. She is everything Haru wishes for, with curly black hair that reaches her brows and big gray eyes that seem to take everything in with a child's curiosity.
Haru can drown in this fantasy, but the real world is ever the demanding master.
"Hey, Haru," Ann says.
Haru blinks into awareness and gives Ann a smile, which she hopes conveys that she is present. "Hm?"
Ann fidgets with her cup, hinting she is thinking hard about something.
"So, um, to be honest... I'm really on edge lately. Don't feel you're the only one feeling this pressure."
Ann whines. "Wow, that sounded terrible."
"No, no, I know you didn't mean it in any way negative."
"Thanks. I swear I'm worse than Ryuji at expressing myself when I'm like this."
Haru giggles. "He isn't that terrible at expressing himself."
Ann rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, at least he's transparent about his feelings. I sometimes can't pick up anything from Akira. He's so stone-faced at times."
"Yes...he can be very stoic."
"Definitely! Even Yusuke is easier to read! But, anyway, I'm getting off track. Honestly, I've been really stressed about this operation."
Ann takes a large swig of her sugary drink. "I know we've done this a bunch of times before, but...the stakes have never been so high. I keep imagining the what-ifs. What if we can't stop Shido before the deadline and..."
Ann clicks her tongue and rests her forehead on the tips of her fingers. "What if this time Akira gets captured and actually killed!? And what about the rest of us...Akechi knows just about everything about us. We'll be next and... argh!"
A haunted look forms in Ann's eyes from the frightening possibility of them failing. For a moment, Haru can only stare. Out of everyone, it is Ann who tries to maintain a positive outlook. Even when things started going wrong, Ann expressed doubts and nervousness but never full-blown fear and defeat.
The sight of her usually positive underclassmen stirs protective feelings in Haru, and she stands to embrace her friend.
Ann blinks at the sudden contact. "Um, Haru—"
"I've thought about it, too," Haru confesses. "Sometimes, it keeps me up at night."
"How...how do you manage? If you're really managing it?"
Haru steps back to look Ann in her eyes. The eyes are windows to the soul, as they say. So, Haru wonders if her eyes will show the blatant lie she is about to make.
"I think about all the success we've had as a team. I know I haven't been on the team for long, but we've accomplished incredible things. And you, being one of the founding members, should know the challenges you've overcome despite the odds."
Somehow, her words have the most positive effect on Ann. A shaky smile forms on the girl's lips as she runs her fingers over the tears in her eyes.
"Wow, that helps. Really, thank you, Haru..."
Ann takes a breath of relief, smacks her face with her free hand, and downs the rest of her coffee. "You're right, you're right, you're right! We've been through much worse with Kamishda, Madarame, Kaneshiro, and the rest of those rotten people!"
Ann stands and wraps Haru in a tight embrace. "Thank you. That was everything and more that I needed to hear."
Haru weakly returns the hug. "Anytime, Ann. I'm sure we'll make it through this."
"Definitely."
Later, as Haru gathers her school supplies and prepares to depart with Ann, a familiar voice booms menacingly in her mind.
"Overcome failure at any cost, even if it means betraying others"... That is our family motto! The cold reality of kicking people down is part of business! Virtues and sentiments are for losers."
I'm sorry, Ann, Haru thinks.
Because everything about her words of encouragement was nothing but a bald-faced lie.
What-ifs of them failing constantly plague her mind.
She doesn't automatically think of the team's track record when these thoughts arise.
Instead, she thinks about preservation and family. In her repetitious moments of hysteria and dread, she imagines the team failing and each of her friends being picked off individually.
She thinks about her position as the majority shareholder of Okumura Foods and how to leverage her status to ensure her safety.
And finally, she imagines years in the future walking down the empty streets of some obscure part of the countryside.
The most perfect little girl is holding her hand. With curly black hair and gray eyes, the girl is the spitting image of a boy long deceased.
X
As per the recent norm, when the team isn't preparing to siege Shido's palace, Akira finds himself stuck at Leblanc. And when there isn't anything productive to do, Morgana thinks of things to occupy Akira's days of hiding.
"Ignore my weight! It's all in your mind!"
"No...no...no, it isn't!" Akira resorts in between pull-ups. "15!"
"Are you calling me fat! And you're on 14 right now."
Akira growls, lowering himself to a hanging position. "No, I'm not. If you don't like my rep, you keep going down by one."
"That's because your form looks terrible."
Akira glares down at the cat wrapped around his pant leg. "I'm getting down, so hop off."
Morgana sends the teen his own spiteful glare before complying.
Landing on the floor, Akira feels a momentary shock from the soles of his feet meeting the hardwood flooring. It passes quickly as various sensations register all over his body. Mainly soreness, fatigue, and sweat rolling down his chest.
"In the end, you only managed 15," Morgana points out smugly.
"Yeah, after some pushups and sit-ups, you're not counting all of my reps."
"What kind of coach would I be if I didn't push you?
"A charitable one," Akira smartly replies.
"Hey!"
Akira grins.
Days of hiding away in the attic and tactfully navigating the streets of Tokyo to meet his confidants were taking a toll on his state of mind.
Morgana's solution?
Exercise till he dropped or was too numb to think of his miserable circumstances. Something about physical activity always brought his mind back to focus like a newly sharpened blade.
Makoto had once gone into great detail about the science of it all. Something about neurotransmitters and the brain releasing serotonin, dopamine, and other big-brain words.
Regardless of how it works, Akira feels excellent. He might actually shower and brush his teeth today.
Better yet, he thinks, eyeing his phone on the bed, maybe I'll call Mom and Dad. I haven't spoken to them since the Sae incident.
He mulls over his options, excited over his mental clarity, when his phone rings, and the decision is taken out of his hands.
[Haru O.] 345PM: Would it be alright if I stop by around the evening?
Akira's smile strains. Morgana immediately takes note of this.
"Everything alright?"
"Yeah..." Akira says. "How do you feel about staying with Futaba tonight?"
"Huh? Why!?"
Akira gives the cat a pointed look.
Morgana's eyes widen. "Haru's coming over again? Isn't this the third time this week?"
"... You're keeping track?"
"And you aren't!? Geez, I get that you lovers are in the honeymoon phase, but this is getting outrageous."
Akira's grip on his phone slackens as he mummers, "Honeymoon phase?"
"Yeah," Morgana says. "You two are dating, after all."
Akira's face falls at Morgana's proclamation. "I... don't really know?"
Morgana's eye twitches. "What do you mean you don't know?"
"Can you believe we've never talked about it once," Akira says with a humorless laugh. He sits on his bed and frowns. "Honestly, with everything going on recently, and even before, we've never..."
"Sounds like you've been stringing the poor girl along?" Morgana accuses him hotly.
"...Watch it," Akira warns. "I'm not stringing anyone along. We've really never talked about it. We'd never discussed her life much until I found you at her house."
"I see," Morgana says, adverting his gaze. "Sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. I'm just worried for her, is all."
"I know," Akira sighs. "You can get a little hot-headed when you worry."
"I'm working on it!"
Morgana jumps onto the bed and curls up along Akira's leg. "A person's persona breaking. I've never seen something like that before. Never even imagined it'd be possible. What I said before about a persona failing because of feeling overwhelmed is honestly something I made up so everyone wouldn't panic. Most of all, Haru."
Akira grimaces as he runs the tips of his fingers down the cat's back. "M-maybe your guess is spot on, Morgana. I can't think of anyone that wouldn't be affected by so much happening in their life."
"Yeah," Morgana says with a slight purr. "From getting a persona, fighting through her father's palace, seeing her father passing, and dealing with the aftermath. You can see why I don't want more piling on the poor girl."
The grim reality talk is beginning to dampen the good feelings of Akira's earlier workout. He is perhaps overly familiar with Haru's situation because all of the team's troubles hang over him like a sword of Damocles.
"Why'd you accuse me of stinging her along?" Akira asks, stopping in his pets on Morgana's back.
Morgana whines at the sudden interruption but answers, "With everything going on right now, Haru might see you as an emotional crutch. With you being surrounded by such pretty girls all the time, Lady Ann being the most stunning, she might feel even more distressed thinking that you might leave her for one of them."
Morgana stretches and rolls on his back, exposing his stomach to Akira. A rare and adorable sight that Akira would have usually taken advantage of if his mind weren't reeling from Morgana's sudden truth bomb.
"Y-you think she might really feel that way?"
"I can't say with a hundred percent certainty, but I wouldn't doubt it." Morgana continues his stretch by turning on his side. "You've got to figure that you're the first male with whom she's had a positive, intimate relationship. Right now, you have a big impact on her mental state."
Akira's mouth goes dry from Morgana's statement. The post-workout high seeps from his system and the familiar anxiety and dread creep up. Suppose Haru is looking to him for emotional support. In that case, they are sinking faster than Tokyo in Shido's cognition because he isn't holding up too well, either.
Wild-eyed, Akira looks down at Morgana and considers telling him everything. To discuss the horrific event in the Okumura estate over a month ago and likely the actual cause of the girl's persona problem.
Finished with his stretch, Morgana sits up and licks his paws as he addresses Akira. "Whatever the case, we need Haru to regain access to her persona as soon as possible. Other than you, she's the only one with Psychokinesis skills, and she's – what did Futaba call it? – our noob?"
"You mean DPS, right? Noobs are new players that are bad."
"Oh, so like Ryu-"
"Morgana," Akira sighs.
"Right! Sorry. Anyway, our DPS. Her skills and firepower are necessary. We'll need all our power before returning to Shido's palace."
Morgana hops off the bed and walks toward the stairs but stops to give Akira a meaningful look over his shoulder. "So, if staying with Futaba while you two do the horizontal tango will get us back our DPS, then I'm off. Make sure to lift her, er, mood, clean the sheets afterward, and, for love of the tuna, shower before she gets here. You stink!"
Akira audibly groans.
X
Another inconvenience of being in hiding is enjoying little luxuries becomes a risk. It is late in the evening when Akira finishes at the bathhouse. While the usual regulars enjoyed their special medicinal bath, Akira had to rush to the showers when the foot traffic was low and quickly scrub himself down.
When this is over, I'll spend at least a few hours on a special medicinal bath, he vows.
The chilly December winds wreak havoc on any peace he might have felt from his warm shower. It sends shivers down his spine and still water-logged hair. He's ready to rush to his room and collapse until he sees a figure standing at Leblanc's entrance.
"Haru," he says in surprise.
"Akira," she smiles.
"What are you doing here? Outside? Where's Sojiro?"
Haru giggles. "Sakura-san left now too long ago and left the store open for me. I'm outside because I was waiting for you?"
"In the cold?"
"Hm, it's not too bad right now. And, well, I wanted to give you a warm welcome before you entered."
The kind, considerate gesture stirs such loving emotions in Akira's chest that he impulsively hugs the girl.
"Akira!"
"You're freezing," says the raven-haired teen. "I can feel the cold off your coat."
"And you're wet," Haru counters, giggling. "I can feel the water off your hair tickling my face."
Akira steps back in a snap and observes Haru's face. Around her petite nose and cheeks is a circle of redness.
Akira cups her face and gives her a quick kiss before saying, "Let's head inside, hm?"
"Hmm..."
The warmth they feel when entering the cafe is a welcoming sensation. Akira takes a moment to remove his gray hooded sweatshirt and drapes it over the nearest stool. Internally, he reminds himself to take it upstairs later or face Sojiro's wrath in the morning.
Behind him, Haru peels off her light pink coat and purple beret and hangs them on the coat rack by the door. Then, before turning towards him, she removes her brown gloves and stuffs them inside her coat pockets.
In his casual sweats and dark-sleeved shirt, Akira feels both magnetized and underdressed at the sight of her. Never before has the raven-haired teen looked at a beautiful woman and felt admiration for everything, even her sense of style. It all communicates Haru to him - classy, elegant, warm, and affectionate.
Morgana's earlier words ring in his ears about them dating. The thought makes him giddy and hits home how much he wants to make it a reality.
We should talk about it, he thinks resolutely.
But the idea is swept from his mind the second she steps closer, and the light hits her eyes. At that moment, he sees the fatigue in her brown eyes, and reality rears its ugly head.
Suddenly, discussing their relationship and ideas of romance seems like a terrible idea.
Would he be pressuring her into a relationship she didn't want?
Would asking now of all times cause her to feel even more overwhelmed?
Is something serious after the catastrophe with her fiancé the best idea?
No, he decides. No, it wouldn't.
"How's your day been?" Akira asks while pulling her into another hug.
"It was good. Ann helped me with breakfast today."
"Oh, I imagine the kitchen burned down?"
Haru pulls back from his arms to playfully smack his chest. "Akira! I'll let you know we made a delicious western-styled breakfast you'd be jealous of."
"And how much of this did Ann contribute?"
"She, um, helped set the plates which –"
"So, nothing," Akira concludes.
Haru sends the teen a look of impatience, but before she can respond, Akira takes one of her hands and kisses it. "Would you like a drink of anything? Sojiro made me restock on beans, so anything's on the menu."
"Hm, well, I don't think I've tried your Salvadoran Pacamara."
"Ah, yes," Akira says as he heads behind the counter. "Pacamara comes from a hybrid plant that produces high amounts of large-sized coffee beans."
"It also has a dense body with chocolate notes," Haru adds.
Akira looks up from underneath the counter, where he's fetching an apron. "Make a smart remark like that again, and I'll run over there and kiss you silly."
Haru squeaks. "H-huh? What?"
"Nothing," he laughs. "Sit down and relax while I get this ready. Afterward, we can go upstairs and watch a movie or something."
X
Haru straddles him while gnawing at his lower lip and running her hands over his exposed stomach.
Akira had really meant for them to watch a movie. That idea became increasingly tricky when Haru continued rubbing circles on his thighs, running her nose against his neck, and speaking suspiciously low in his ear when commenting on the film.
The kiss on her cheek that followed was meant to be affectionate, he swears, not lead to their heavy make-out session. And he has no control over that part of his lower extremity when she grinds her bottom on his lap.
His reason is a thin strand of string unraveling into nothingness.
Lift her mood, Morgana had stressed. Akira intends to and more.
Quickly, he stands up, holding the girl up by her shapely rear.
Haru squeaks at the sudden movement and wraps her arms and legs around him. Before she can stutter her question, Akira carries her to the edge of his bed and leans forward gently until her back rests on the mattress.
"Akira! I-You could've warned me," she sighs, loosening her grip on him.
"Didn't want to ruin the surprise," he says and shushes her with a kiss. "I want to do it for you."
"That's not necessary," Haru says, trying to sit up.
But Akira subdues her with another kiss. "Hey, please let me do this. I really, really want to make you feel good. So, so good..."
To emphasize his point, he leaves a trail of kisses from her calf down her inner thigh. Her black leggings are in the way, but Akira's sure he's got his message across by the glassy look in her eyes and her gnawing her lower lip. Her tell for a strong yes.
"O-okay," she says.
Akira gives her a crooked smile, slowly peeling the leggings that hug her like a second layer of skin. He marvels at her voluptuous thighs that shine under the dim lighting. Carelessly, he tosses the leggings over his shoulder, and before she can protest, he kneads and kisses her legs.
Haru is always so vocal and adorable. Her breathing, in slow, shaky pants, is the best giveaway if he's addressing her needs appropriately. So, when he slowly descends the length of her leg, trailing his lips, tongue, and hint of teeth, Haru inhales deeply in anticipation.
Akira continues his adoration of her legs until reaching her innermost thigh. Here, Akira takes a moment to gaze into her glassy brown orbs. They maintain eye contact for a few seconds before Akira hungrily licks, gnaws, and sucks at the area surrounding her sex.
Haru jumps at the sudden vigor. Like the numerous times Akira had serviced her, she was ready to instinctually close her thighs around his head. After all, it wouldn't be the first time he'd almost received a concussion from her powerful thighs. Fortunately, experience has taught Akira to hold her legs parted.
"Hah…. ah… ahh…."
Music to his ears.
He doesn't stop, purposely avoiding her center and only going as far as to trace his tongue around the edges of her black panties.
"Ah… A-Ah!"
Haru's breathing becomes more erratic as she buckles her hips and grabs a fistful of his hair to push him harder against her growing wetness. Still, Akira doesn't relent, teasing around her sensitive area but never close enough to satisfy her growing itch.
"S-stop, stop teasing me!"
At this point, she tries to wrap his head in a death grip against her growing need. Akira is accommodating, especially when specifically ordered to lift her mood.
Akira dives into her sex, giving it single-minded attention, and immediately feels Haru relax.
"Um… uhh… umh…"
He slows, savoring the unique taste and smell he can never accurately describe. If sexual need were a substance, it is the conclusion his mind always reaches.
Haru's lower lips glisten from the intermixing of his saliva and excitement. Akira keeps his pace steady until his tongue experimentally flicks the exposed head of her clitoris.
Haru breathes in sharply, hissing from the sudden contact with the spongy tissue. Akira resists the urge to go faster or smirk too widely at the continued arching of her hips. As he's learned, stimulating her clit just did it for Haru. But too much too fast could sometimes be exhilarating in a painful way.
So, Akira goes slow, easing her into the process. When he's confident she's acclimated enough, he pulls back slightly, giving the clitoral area a small kiss, then inserts two fingers inside her.
"Ahh! O... Oh!"
Good ol' Sojiro. Rule something out of 20 (Akira didn't bother remembering their placement) to having a girl always come back: find the G-Spot.
Akira feels Haru still. He meets her deep brown eyes, filled with anticipation. Then, he smiles at her, wide like a Cheshire cat.
Haru opens her mouth. "A-Akira -!"
Akira commences the operation.
"Ah… A-Ah…Ahh! Aghh! AAAH!"
Relentlessly, he licks, sucks, and gently gnaws her swollen clit while stroking her insides, just like he's learned from videos, experience, and Sojiro's very in-depth seminars – all valuable material.
Haru is a mess of twitches and moans, gripping his hair to the point it hurts. Still, Akira persists, and it isn't long before she's groaning a jumble of incomprehensible words.
"Arghh! C-cumin, c-c-cum, do-n't! Aghhh!"
There she blows, Akira thinks.
The stream of liquid hits him square in the face. Akira squints to avoid being blinded and thinks having glasses would have been excellent in hindsight.
Still, he runs a hand over his wet face, licks his lips, and watches in admiration how evidence of her satisfaction slowly subsides and pools on his mattress.
Hmm, those sheets might be unsalvageable, Akira thinks. Worth it.
He watches Haru, an unmoving bundle of twitches, and he swells with pride. Nonetheless, he wonders if he went overboard.
"Hey, Haru," he calls, leaning down so he's lying beside her on the bed. "You ok?"
He catches her glassy gaze, slowly becoming clear. Then, she smiles. But something is off about her smile. Akira can feel it in his bones because suddenly, she's on her feet and stripping him of his sweatpants.
His erection flies free from its confines, and he gasps at the sudden warmth of her mouth on his member. Akira is only given a second to see the wild look in her eyes - yes, her switch is flipped – before he throws his head back at the onslaught of pleasure.
Try as he might to grit his teeth and keep from gasping, groans and moans slip through his parted lips. He's almost in distress at how mind-numbing the pleasure is until Haru stops, and he can catch his breath.
"H-hey, hey, wow..." he giggles at how empty and weightless his head feels. "That was mind-boggling."
Akira tries to sit up only to feel Haru's weight on top of him, giving him that off-putting smile again. He's both mesmerized and baffled by it.
"Um, did you enjoy the thing with my mouth and fingers?" Akira squeaks, feeling like concerned prey. "I, um, put everything I've learned into practice."
"It was mind-altering," Haru confesses in a low, sultry tone. "You've made me very, very happy."
She caresses his face, sending shivers down his spine. For some reason, he's eerily transfixed on her face and eyes. Is it his imagination, or were her pupils hauntingly yellow?
"I want to make you feel just as good. Can I, baby? I love you so much."
Akira feels his breath hitch. She said it: I love you. If that wasn't an indication of her wanting them to advance their relationship, he didn't know what was.
Akira smiles brightly, feeling weightless now in his chest, too. "Sure, go ahead."
Then, she lifts herself and strokes his hardened member toward her entrance. Through the anticipation and wanton desire filling his being, Akira's brain produces a single thought of clarity before she devours him.
"W-we need protect—!"
O-oh, gggooddd...
Words fail him. A million and one neurons fire the same message to his brain from his sex: intense and unfiltered ecstasy. He feels this tingling all over, even to the tips of his toes. And the sensation only continues to grow. He's helpless, a puppet to pleasure.
Haru knows precisely what she's doing and takes his hands and places them over her clothed breasts. Goodness, he wants to see them exposed. He tries vainly to voice this desire but can't muster any sounds but gasps and groans.
This endeavor is even more impossible when she leans forward and captures his lips. Then, she increases her pace, slamming her rear onto his sex as if possessed.
Akira feels it coming. The building tension in his loins is equal parts pleasurable and painful. His vision blurs and fades into a canvas of white, and every sensation in his body begins to feel further and further away. This sensation reaches its zenith, and he erupts before he can make sense of it.
His essence spills from him like a flood escaping a broken dam. He feels both ethereal and emaciated with every second the geyser endures without signs of stopping. He's sure he even blacked out during one of those seconds.
After an eternity, Akira blinks into awareness and tries to make sense of the world. He sees his hardened member, still slick from their fluids, against his abdomen. Then, with rising panic, he sees the slow cascading puddle of his cum escaping Haru's sex. And the girl in question observes the proof of their recklessness with quiet fascination.
Rule something from Sojiro: Always use protection! (After this, Akira vows to commit his teacher's lessons to heart!)
"H-Haru, we may have gotten a little car-"
"I'm hoping for a little girl," is her dreamy reply.
Akira gulps. "W-Wha-"
"A boy would be fine too, but I'd prefer a girl. She'd probably be a troublemaker like you. Can you imagine? Your hair, my eyes, your eye color, and my face."
Haru boops Akira's nose. "What do you think?"
Akira shallows the growing dryness in his mouth. He doesn't imagine things. No, post-nut clarity is a thing, and there's no way he imagines the glowing yellow light in her eyes.
"H-Haru?"
"Hmm, I'm asking you a question. What. Do. You. Think?"
"I think we should take things slower?"
Wrong answer. Akira can feel menacing displeasure off Haru.
She opens her mouth, closes it, then smiles. "You're right. There's no rush. After all, there's no guarantee of fertilization after one load. We should go again."
Akira tries to back away from underneath Haru, but her thighs pin him down.
"W-we should talk about this more. There are a lot of steps we're skipping. That we have been overlooking. I was hoping we could backtrack a bit...do the dating thing?"
"We can do all the dates and steps we've missed after I'm with child," the voice speaking through Haru counters.
This isn't Haru, Akira worryingly concludes. It's a fucking shadow. Did it take over her body? How is this even possible!?
Akira opens his mouth, but the imposter leans forward and captures one of his nipples in her mouth. Then, she pinches his other one and, with her free hand, gently coaxes his member to attention.
"O-oh, ahh..."
Whatever Akira was going to say was lost to the surprised sounds coming out of his mouth.
"See, little ol' Akira seems ready, hm?"
Damn, teenage hormones! Akira thinks.
But no, it's more than that. This figure, the imposter, is so good. As if she knew his body better than he did.
"Seriously, time out!"
He tries to shove her off, but the imposter doesn't budge, even when using all his strength.
This power isn't normal, he realizes.
"I think this mouth of yours is better closed."
The imposter leans forward and kisses him, but it's wrong. Haru's kisses are soft, passionate, and affectionate. This thing's mouth is cold like a corpse. Akira turns his head away, trying with greater resolve to shove the imposter back, when he feels a force slam into his chest.
"Arghh!"
The crazy thing just punched his stomach. Akira is wheezing and coughing, gripping the injured spot, when two small hands wrap around his neck and squeeze.
The shadow laughs at his distress. "Oh goodness, look at you? You're actually becoming even more aroused! So, stop being so unagreeable and allow me to satisfy us all. Else, you'll end up just like him!"
Akira's vision begins to wane. He no longer sees this thing as Haru but as a shadow from the metaverse. As if responding to his realization, Hariti of The Empress Arcana urges him to strike. With renewed vigor, Akira grips the shadow's forearms and sways side to side to create enough space to free one of his legs and deliver a swift kick to its chest.
The shadow is thrown off him onto the floor. Akira jumps to his feet, realizing what he did.
"Haru!"
Watch out, Hariti screams.
The shadow rises much too quickly and then snaps her fist at his right arm.
What the...?
Akira is sent reeling back onto the bed, cradling his bruised arm. It isn't broken. He's done that too often in the metaverse not to know, but damn, does it hurt. Menacingly, the figure of his half-naked lover stalks toward him.
For the first time during this nightmarish affair, Akira feels genuine fear. He's back in the interrogation room, where those suited men with blank faces kept striking him, jabbing him with needles, and laughing.
Laughing. Smirking. Joking...
And hadn't it always started the same, with them walking menacingly toward him?
"Stop it," Akira seethes, shuffling to the corner of the bed and shutting his eyes.
He doesn't know when the trembling stops, or the ice pumping in his veins doesn't feel so damn suffocating. But it becomes more manageable when he hears Haru call out to him - in that sweet, concerned voice she always has when he panics.
"A-Akira..."
Akira looks at her through splayed fingers, and the ice begins to thaw. There are no glowing yellow eyes.
"A-Akira..." she calls again.
He shuffles back when she tries to advance closer, pushing himself harder against the wall.