[ Requests ]
prompts ;
16: machias/jusis
18: brights
5: akira/minato
14: awash ship -- dextera/guren
12: awash ship -- lupin/elizabeth
17: awash ship -- caramia/kyrie
19: nino/jaffar
14: minato/elizabeth
6: okuyasu/ochako
8: minato/aigis
20: jae-ha/sousei
12: minato ship??? OH NO
16: machias/jusis
18: brights
5: akira/minato
14: awash ship -- dextera/guren
12: awash ship -- lupin/elizabeth
17: awash ship -- caramia/kyrie
19: nino/jaffar
14: minato/elizabeth
6: okuyasu/ochako
8: minato/aigis
20: jae-ha/sousei
12: minato ship??? OH NO

16. machias/jusis
It was no secret that between the two hardest headed members of Class VII, things could easily grow heated. Whether it was Emma sighing and hoping Dorothy would never find out, or Alisa rolling her eyes at a sheepish Rean, they all were aware of this poorest kept secret.
In fact, the only ones who weren't aware seemed to be the two in question, because there was no way in hell (Machias' words) that he would ever, ever like that high-brow, self-possessed noble, and there was no possible situation in which he could ever (Jusis' words) truly care about a commoner so moronic as to be unable to look beyond his own nose--
In other words, they were not altogether too likely to admit to it, whatever it was. It was while on the Courageous, hovering over their newest destination, knowing that it was teaming with monsters, that they hit a boiling point. Jusis had volunteered himself for Rean's party; Machias, remembering the emptiness in his eyes after their trip to Celdic, still too close, had stepped up and stated that if that was going to be their party, he was going with them.
"Someone has to take care of a certain foolhardy idiot who can't even realize his own well-being," he'd stated, glasses flashing and daring Rean to contradict him; Rean, hands held up, had looked to Emma, their volunteered staff user for help, and received only a sheepish smile for his troubles.
"Pardon me?" Jusis returned, eyes flashing, expression growing dark as he stepped closer, scowl just daring anyone to argue. Machias had never been afraid of that scowl, though, and he certainly wasn't now that he was better acquainted with the wayward Albarea.
"Are you deaf now as well?" he'd returned, arms crossed, stepped towards Jusis fearlessly in return, because he'd never have stood for Jusis thinking he was willing to back down.
"I think you are the one who needs to get his ears checked," Jusis shot back, stepping forward once more, perfectly polished sneer solid on his face. "Elliot clearly volunteered to come along as well, long before you attempted to shove your way into this expedition."
("T-that's okay, I don't need to go--" came a voice from outside of their little bubble, shushed quickly.)
Machias made an attractive choking noise, irritation plain on his face as he stepped forward as well, and now they were chest to chest, staring into each other's eyes, frustration and anger (not truly directed at each other) palpable in the very air around them. He opened his mouth to respond.
"Oh, would you just kiss already," Angie yawned from where she was sprawled against the captain's seat, Towa uselessly attempting to shush her, and then all hell broke loose.
18. estelle/joshua
If there was one thing that could be said about Estelle Bright, it was that she was absolutely fearless. She would face down monsters and bandits and soldiers alike with only her staff and the grin on her face, and not once did she hesitate or back down. It was one of the things that both exasperated Joshua and, if he was totally honest with himself, that he was eternally impressed by. He wanted her to be safe more than anything, but...
How could he ever stop her from being the fierce, bright sun that she was so amazing at being?
So he followed along, and tried to keep her out of trouble, and knew that no matter what? Estelle would never be afraid of anything.
Or so he'd really thought, honestly, though he knew her better than that. It was easy to be taken in by her persistence, her smile, her certainty. But the task they had accepted at the Bracer's Guild had been worse than expected; a job to take on some monsters had ended up bloodier than anticipated when the monsters had come across some innocent merchants before Estelle and Joshua could get to them.
They saved most of them, Estelle charging in with a war cry on her lips and her staff raised high.
But they didn't save all of them, and while Estelle was clearly distressed over it, she pasted on her best smile and helped the remainder of the merchants to the next town over, encouraging them and pushing them to keep going, no matter what. And Joshua... focused on the logistics of the situation, on the injuries of the merchants and where they could let them stay, had allowed himself, too, to be soothed by that smile.
It was only that night that he realized just how terrified she'd really been. He was a light sleeper, of course; he'd always been, and while some parts of his assassin training he could turn off, that was not one of them. So as soon as he realized someone was murmuring, he was upright and crouched on the balls of his feet, scanning their shared hotel room in the dark.
And that's when he realized it was Estelle. She was tossing and turning in her own bed, a whimper escaping her, even with her eyes tightly shut, teeth clenched. For a moment, he wavered in indecision--wake her, or let her sleep through it and hope she settled?--but then her murmurs became vocal, and made the decision for her.
"Please, please, please be okay, we'll save you, please--!" The words were soft, whispered, harsh as they were, and Joshua immediately reached out to shake Estelle's shoulder, because that... he couldn't listen to that anymore. It was too heartbreaking to listen to Estelle pleading with ghosts.
She jerked awake with a start, staring up at him with unshed tears, and Joshua looked back--and in the end, he didn't say much of anything, but he squeezed her hand and moved the nightstand between their beds so he could shove his bed next to hers, quietly settling with her hand still in his.
And when he squeezed her hand again, she sniffled but smiled, and the muffled "Thank you" he received, even if a little snotty, was worth the effort.
(And he didn't intend on ever forgetting again that sometimes, even the sun needed a little support in the difficult times, to shine.)
5. akira/minato
With the way the two of them were, periods of silence weren't troublesome at all. They were used to it, and in all honesty, for all that they could be chatty when the mood took them... they could just as easily spend a few hours in comfortable silence, leaning against each other or playing with each other's fingers, playing games together or reading a book, turning the pages one by one when they'd both read them.
Akira could read Minato's silences without issue, able to pick up his moods and thoughts from the way he sat, or the look, muted as it tended to be, on his face.
But as March 5th drew closer, silence grew harder and harder to deal with.
Akira did everything he could to keep the mood up; he chattered, he brought new things for them to experience, and he kept up the best smile for Minato that he possibly could. Over and over, he'd smile, he'd lean in for quick kisses to the nose or lips, he'd thread their fingers together and murmur warm words, and Minato... was quiet.
On this day in particular, he was quiet, almost distant, a small smile playing on his lips at Akira's attempts and actions, but not much engagement. It was something that wouldn't usually bother Akira; he wasn't so dependent that he needed someone to pay attention to him at all hours of every day.
But they were running out of time. There was so little time left, and he didn't want to let--he couldn't let--it drift away from him like this.
So eventually, he reached out where they were both sitting on Minato's bed, gently nudging Minato's shoulders, eyes uncovered by glasses showing his concern openly. "Minato..." he murmured the words softly--he wasn't angry with Minato by any means, after all, just hoping for an answer. "Is everything okay?"
Minato blinked, as if coming back to himself slowly, processing the question--and then softly, he sighed, shoulders slumping. "Sorry..." the apology came ruefully, Minato threading their fingers together quietly, squeezing Akira's hand. Truthfully, the affection helped soothe him, but he was still concerned, especially as Minato continued--
"I was just thinking..."
He waited, but no further information was forthcoming, and so softly, Akira prompted, "About what?"
Minato's eyes took on an almost distant look--but ultimately, he just shook his head, and murmured, "Just thinking in general. About getting things in order, you know? It's not important." and then he changed the subject and it was dropped, if reluctantly on Akira's part. Still, what could he do? The last thing he wanted to do was interrogate Minato when he could barely sit up straight.
March 5th came and went.
And Akira, hands shaking, stared at a letter on Minato's desk. There were a few, each addressed to people that Minato had known would need information after everything--but the one on top had his name written on it simply, and the words:
Everything's in order in the closet. Please take what's there.
And when, reluctantly, he opened the closet, there was the box of healing supplies and battle items, there was the box of piles and piles of yen from Shadow hunting--and a smaller box of trinkets and tidbits from Social Links, Akira's glasses resting lightly on top.
There was no doubting that everything was in order, and Akira, mouth tasting like ashes, had no choice but to take it all--but he'd wished he would have pressed Minato more on that day, because this was not the sort of way he'd wanted Minato's entire life to be "in order" at the end of all things.
14. dextera/guren
On the one hand, Chroma was being weird again. People had reported feeling strange... urges, or rather, to be more exact, the need to act on those urges, whether it was to hug someone or yell at the top of their lungs or what-have-you. Guren knew that he should probably do something about it, but...
Well, it seemed more or less harmless for now. Let the kids hold hands and blush in utter embarrassment and hide their faces when they accidentally yelled out a totally sincere "I love you" at someone passing by. It wasn't as if that was a bad thing. It would probably do some of the kids good, here.
Besides, he had more important things to do. Dinner, a chess match with Dextera--who knew what else, probably chatting and wiling the night away, enjoying the company in general and not reading too far into it thank you very much.
The true problem, of course, was that Guren was still underestimating the Town and what it could do (or maybe, he'd consider later reluctantly, he was underestimating the urge that was lurking there all along, and that was the actual problem).
Either way, he knocked on the door and then opened it with easy familiarity to see Dextera sitting there, that damn chicken in his lap as she tended to always be, if not around him in some other way, and he was barely processing the warm, tiny precious little smile that Dextera seemed to manage to always give him when he saw him, that sort of easy comfort and familiarity from a sense of safety and warmth and calm--
(The smile that made him think there might be something more and that also made him back off, because that comfort was something he never, ever wanted to take away, and yet--)
He was moving before he really was processing what he was doing, stepping forward in steady, quick strides to grasp Dextera by the shoulders, and then he was leaning in for a kiss.
Dextera, alarmed by Guren's sudden motions and equally uncharacteristic grasp, reacted on automatic, lifting his hands up as if to flail, and that was how it was that Guren's abrupt motion was just as abruptly curtailed by a chicken, and he was spitting out chicken feathers for the rest of the evening from a safe distance away from Dextera, much to Dextera's mingled bemusement and amusement in equal counts.
12. lupin/elizabeth
It only took an attack of some strange, new fairy tale creature, the dragons pacing the streets and peering through any open doors or windows, and Lupin was immediately dragging Elizabeth into his home and out of danger. She'd been investigating them (or so she said), and while he admired her bravery...
There was really nothing more foolish than staring down a dragon when it could have squashed her with a single stomp.
So Lupin had swooped in, as he was so good at doing, after all, and had swept her off to squirrel her away in his house, at least until it was safe to wander the outside again. He'd offered her his bed, of course; there were too few that weren't rickety or broken down, sans the ones he and Akechi were both using, but Elizabeth had waved that off, gesturing to the couch and stating plainly, "This will do just fine for me, thank you."
(He'd really have preferred she take the bed, but she was resolute, and Lupin was at least wise enough to know when to gracefully cut his losses.)
And in truth, when he snuck down the stairs to check the windows, to scope out the pathways to see what the situation was deep in the dead of night, she seemed to be sleeping well enough from a glance, so he was content to leave her there for now--at least, until she murmured his name.
He paused. In all honesty, he wanted to patrol the town with the safety of nighttime cloaking his movements, a backdrop that was particularly well-suited to him--but nonetheless, he paused, creeping a single step closer to her, straining his ears to try to hear what she was saying (because after all, what if she was having some sort of nightmare?).
But a quick glance revealed that it was nothing of the sort. She was smiling at that, lips curved into an easy expression of pure joy that he hadn't actually seen on her face, one without a single shred of hardship or reticence--
And then she murmured the softest of words, a simple line that made him pause in place, eyes closing for a moment.
"Thank you for bringing me to Paris," she murmured, girlish joy and simple pleasure in each word, at whatever warm dream she was having, and Lupin knew he had to tear himself away to check on the others in the town, but...
Briefly, he paused, and briefly he thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, he could make it his personal business to start granting the impossible dreams of young women who deserved so much better out of life.
19. nino/jaffar
He'd ridden through the night, buying a horse out of their meagre funds when it was a purchase that they would never have considered before, to make it to the small convent that was not far from Castle Ostia. He'd rather not step into the capital city itself, really; Jaffar knew that his face was still known by at least some people who were still hunting the elusive Angel of Death, tempted by the danger and the promise of old rewards.
But nonetheless, he had no choice. In this, he had to work fast, and in this, he had to do everything he could. For Nino's sake. Jaffar wasn't a praying or wishing sort of man, but he almost considered it when he stopped at said convent, mouth opening and closing in the face of clerics who twittered at him, asking him what he needed and what was wrong, and a shrill, familiar voice cut through the susurrus.
"And what is happening here? Go on, out of the way, let me through--" Serra paused, gasping when she realized just who it was she was faced with--
And while there would always be that hint of wariness to her gaze when she looked at him (for she'd known Leila too, and Matthew's hurt was her hurt, though she'd never admit to it in words), she was nonetheless kind (for Serra), when she said, "Why are you here, Jaffar?"
And that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? Why was he here, having desperately ridden a horse all the way to the outskirts of Ostia to look for someone familiar?
Raggedly, he managed a murmur of, "Nino--the baby..."
Serra's gaze sharpened. "Is she all right?"
Miserably, entirely out of his depth and desperate for some sort of lifesaver to latch onto, Jaffar nodded. She was fine, Serra managed to drag out of him walking with him out towards his tired horse. Nino had simply said that she felt like it was almost time for the baby to come, and Jaffar should go find someone to help.
Nino had probably meant someone in the next village over, just in case something went wrong.
Jaffar had processed it as "find someone we can trust to take care of Nino", which had brought him all the way here to look for someone like Serra.
Honestly, how had Nino ended up with a guy like this...? Still, Serra wouldn't torment him further; she'd always been a woman of action, and so she simply nodded towards the horse, and, "Very well then. I will grace you with my esteemed company."
And so, with all of the eloquence he always possessed, Jaffar nodded shortly and they were off. In truth? Despite the additional trip, they were there with more than enough time to take care of Nino; Nino had beamed upon seeing Serra, greeting her with the same warmth and cheer she'd always had, and Serra was at least relieved to see that nothing had changed there (despite her close contact with a certain close-lipped fellow she knew).
And Serra, with all of her superior attitude and haughty know-how, had shoved Jaffar right out the door as soon as Nino had properly gone into labor, leaving him staring at nothing but wood blankly, and more lost than he'd ever been his entire life. And he remained there, unmoving, and when Serra finally opened the door hours and hours later, hair mussed but expression warm, she started to see him still there and ultimately just sighed, muttering something to herself before she waved him in.
He was at Nino's side before Serra was finished with the motion, and she smiled up at him, smile tireder than usual, but still nonetheless so warm. And in her arms, there was not one, but two small bundles, and Jaffar had no idea what to do with any of this, but still when she reached up and carefully slotted one child into each of his arms, filled with the trust she'd always had in him...
Jaffar was pretty sure that the emotion in his chest that didn't have a name was some sort of strange happiness he'd never experienced before, one that he would be okay with never experiencing again, even--because he had it in this very moment, something precious and fragile and warm, and when he looked down at Nino, carefully cradling their children in his arms, he opened his mouth and found that, as always, he didn't have the words to even begin to explain himself.
But Nino smiled at him warmly, even mussed up as she was, and yawned softly, "It's okay, Jaffar... I think I know exactly what you mean", and that was more than enough.
17. caramia/kyrie
"You told him what?" Kyrie's tone was quiet, but it was the deceptive quiet of someone very, very dangerous who was at the very end of their last rope. He was not at all pleased, that much was clear, and for once, Caramia wasn't entirely unaffected by it.
Mostly because he, too, was feeling rather sheepish about the whole thing.
"I told him that you kissed me, but that it wasn't a big deal!" Caramia's hands were lifted in the universal gesture for mercy, a sheepish, awkward smile on his face. He'd known as soon as the words had left his mouth that Kyrie would be none-too-pleased to know about what he told Minato... he would've been happy keeping it a secret, but--
"And so now he believes that we are romantically involved?" Kyrie's words came out one by one, deliberate, as if trying to make his displeasure known in each and every syllable. Caramia wilted a little., but he bit back even so.
"I told you that I tried to make it obvious that it wasn't a big deal...!"
Kyrie sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead wearily. "And so, instead, now he believes that we kiss all the time, and that we have been romantically involved for a long while, and he just never realized. Is that right?"
Put like that... Caramia could see how his words might've been taken wrong, considering the context. Maybe. A little. But still, Minato should have been able to get the right idea...!
"You are an idiot," Kyrie sighed, shaking his head with his hand still pressed to his forehead, and Caramia opened his mouth to protest with a squawk when Kyrie shut him up with much the same gesture, lips pressed together, more shock than romance in the gesture.
It worked, at least, and Caramia was left sighing as Kyrie scolded him, a pout on his face. Seriously, how could Minato have gotten the wrong idea about what their relationship was? It was so obvious to him.
(And elsewhere, Minato sneezed, and felt a weird looming sense of dread.)
14. minato/elizabeth
Caring about Elizabeth came both very easily and, sometimes, a fair bit more difficult than it should have been. When he'd visited the Velvet Room earlier that day, she'd looked at him with those bright eyes of her and requested a trip around Port Island's "better shaded areas" ("shadier", he'd pieced together, after a moment's bemused staring), and Minato had naturally agreed; her dates were one of the easier requests she tended to have for him, and if he was entirely honest with himself, he enjoyed them too.
So long as they didn't go back to Gekkoukan. The number of questions he'd been bombarded from his classmates about the beautiful foreign girl with golden eyes had made once more than enough.
So. The back alleys of Port Island. Not exactly the most romantic of destinations, but it didn't really need to be to go with Elizabeth; in all honesty, Minato admired that about her. She was always searching for new answers, always eagerly approaching the world with a wide-eyed willingness to embrace it all and learn.
(It was something he knew fully well he could still stand to learn from.)
So as she strode fearlessly into the third back alleyway they'd visited, Minato following along behind her with his hands tucked into his pockets, Elizabeth trilled a cheerful, "My, my, this is even plantier than the last!"
A beat.
"Full of...seed? Foliage?"
("Seedier", Minato's mind provided. He left it alone, seeing that Elizabeth had already moved on.)
Of course, her spread arms and cheerful words had attracted more than a little bad attention; a few of the thugs who tended to inhabit these places approached, chins up and posture plain swagger. Elizabeth didn't notice them until she'd bumped right into one of them, and then she startled a little. "Oh my! Pardon me," she said, simply and to the point, and then immediately proceeded to ignore him as she turned to Minato to say something.
He didn't really process what it was she was excitedly chirping about now; he was busy watching the man behind her slowly grow more and more furious by her clear lack of concern. The punk reached for her wrist.
Minato winced, preemptively.
A few german suplexes later and they were free to wander the back alley entirely alone and unbothered; Minato, sitting on one of the steps to a shady bar, watched Elizabeth wander to-and-fro with an honestly endeared expression on his face, quiet as it was. Nothing about this afternoon had flustered or bothered her at all, even though Minato himself was exhausted, and he supposed that was something to admire about her too. Would he ever really be able to keep up with her?
She plopped herself next to him, beaming at him, and brushed herself off to say very primly, "Thank you, my treasured guest, for fulfilling my quest. I have had an absolutely wonderful time exploring the darker parts of humanity's depths!"
That was very Elizabeth too, Minato thought ruefully, making so much more out of a simple back alley inhabited by people who couldn't be assed to spend their time in any other way, but before he could open his mouth to respond, Elizabeth was leaning forward. She paused, scant centimeters between their lips, and murmured a quiet, "Do you mind?" and that politeness was so out of place in this setting, at this very moment, that Minato couldn't help but laugh a startled breath out, and she took that rightfully as the answer it was, leaning in to press their lips together properly.
She didn't linger long; instead she pulled back a bit, cheeks only a faint shade of red, hands clasped together as she brightly said, "Truly this is the perfect setting to finally experience those fireworks I have been informed by... ah, what was it... oh, yes! Sordid romance novels of the harlequin variety."
(Where had she...?)
"They informed me that there would be fireworks, and they were correct! Well, I did not actually see any, though I suppose I was distracted, but I believe the sensations to be very similar to when a human sees a chemical reaction occur in the sky. Perhaps it is a reaction to danger?"
(Really, she needed to--)
"Indeed, I had decided that with that hypothesis in mind, a setting that stimulated danger would be the ideal location for a first kiss! After all--"
And Minato, a hand over his eyes, shoulders shaking in hopeless, quiet laughter, just leaned forward to press their lips together again, if only to get her to stop talking for just a moment.
He'd never be able to keep up with her after all--but this was a good way to start to catch up.
okuyasu/ochako
The thing about Awash was that much of the romance was lost when doing standard romantic gestures, by sheer merit of just how bad their setting could be sometimes. It was easy to forget when going about their day-to-day lives, but when it came to actually having a romantic outing...
Well, Ochako had tried everything. Cafes that were falling apart and had creepy creepy crawlies lurking in the corners were not at all fun to explore together. Going on a jaunt through the woods could've led to dragons, or more bogeyman, or who knew what else. Going fishing seemed fine, until one of them fished up something that was just a bit too freaky to really handle (Okuyasu had flung it out as far as possible in a panic, forgetting that it was still attached to his fishing rod and just came back). Having a picnic seemed fine, until Ochako found a creepy, old doll with vacant eyes in the picnic basket she'd scrounged up. Candlelit dinners sounded nice in theory, but didn't work when the candles themselves were so old that they wouldn't light, or they'd splutter out immediately (though admittedly, she was a little relieved about that one; candlelit dinners may have been a bit Too Much on second thought, but hey, she was getting desperate).
Basically? Trying to go on something stereotypically romantic here was a disaster, and Ochako was starting to get a little put-out about it. Okuyasu had followed along with these plans gamely, though it was starting to get very plain that he was at a loss (should he say that it was a good date? Did they already hit the romantic part?), and it was pretty late by the time she flung herself onto the grass in front of her home with a huff, staring up at the sky.
A beat, and Okuyasu casually just lay down next to her; it seemed like the proper, bro thing to do to not leave her hanging, and who was the biggest bro to him if not his girlfriend?
There was silence for a long moment. The grass was still colorless and bizarre, a reminder of just how weird this place was, but... it was still cool to the touch and comfortable, and above them, the stars that they'd recently returned still twinkled, bright in the blackness of the sky, and after a long moment, Ochako snorted.
She covered up her face in mortification, but the laughter came anyway--it had been the most ridiculous of days, but already, this was so much better, and when she'd calmed down her laughter, she sighed, murmuring softly, almost half to herself, "Thanks for coming with me today, even though it was a total disaster."
(Okuyasu, in the meantime, sighed as well, this time from relief. They'd gotten to the romantic bit now. Thank goodness he hadn't missed it.)
8. minato/aigis
It never stopped being amazing, Minato thought, even in the haze he was in and had been for at least a few weeks. If not for his calendar, he would've long since lost track of time, but...
Nonetheless, it still was amazing.
The fact that Aigis could cry, that was.
For so long, she'd been so convinced that she was nothing more than a robot. That she was nothing more than the sum of her parts, that she couldn't ever be more than that. That it was okay if she was harmed in battle, because she would be able to be put back together. That it was fine if something happened to her, because protecting the others was so much more important to her.
Minato knew that that was nonsense, of course, but he'd never managed to convince her of that.
But now, he thought that if he could just get his mouth and tongue to work, if he could just make his body cooperate the way he wanted it to, he'd be able to convince her now, because now Aigis was crying, tears dripping down her face as she stared down at him, one hand over his own, murmuring words that he couldn't entirely process, though he wished he could. The sentiment behind them, at least, was clear.
(I'll protect you, she said, and Minato wanted to assure her that she didn't have to anymore; she'd already done a good job of that.)
But all he could really muster was a lifted hand, shaky as it was, to try to brush away those tears, and the words he had were caught in his throat on the way; this time, he couldn't quite seem to manage to form the words that would make her feel better, that would fix all of this. He just had to hope, before his eyes slid shut, that it was enough.
(And in the end, it really, really wasn't.)
20. jae-ha/sousei
The current trial had taken more out of Jae-ha than he wanted to admit to, Sousei knew. As bizarre as it was to admit, spending as much time together as they had been forced to do in this place meant... that he knew Jae-ha much better than expected.
Much better than anyone could have expected, really, and their startling similarities didn't help. So he knew full well what was bothering Jae-ha about this trial more than any other, and really, there wasn't much he could do but try to help him work his way through the thoughts plaguing him, before the exhausted dragon finally dropped off to sleep, head scant inches from Sousei's thigh, a concession from the both of them--Sousei, that he would sit this close, and Jae-ha, that he wouldn't just plop his head into his lap. Not right now, at least.
For now, Sousei would let him sleep. He knew, after all, that he was far from particularly good at comfort. All he could do was offer his sincere observations--which Jae-ha had taken well, and Sousei had to grimly admit to himself that Jae-ha probably knew him much better than he'd like to admit as well.
This was never supposed to happen.
Still, that meant that while Jae-ha slept, it was Sousei's watch; they still slept in shifts even knowing that it likely wouldn't help if one of them was targeted. If it was possible to stop murder from happening via negligence... then they would be the ones to do so. Still... it left him with plenty of time to think, and without much to occupy his thoughts sans possible murder, and the person currently asleep beside him, his thoughts naturally turned to the person beside him--the more preferable topic of thought, if only a little (uncharitably, Sousei thinks that).
... And while Sousei wasn't really one to say many of his thoughts out loud, this trial had worn him down too, and it was far too oppressive an atmosphere to leave entirely silent. So, softly, he began to talk, mostly to himself, though to the dead-to-the-world Jae-ha in name.
"Honestly, you are eternally aggravating and frustrating," Sousei breathed that out softly, looking elsewhere. "I do not know why I care as much as I do, sans simply through prolonged exposure."
There was a beat of silence, and then more slowly, "But you are reliable. Loyal, proud, and free. While I loathe the circumstances we are in... I suppose there are some things I should be grateful for."
Jae-ha, breathing carefully even, was silent; if Sousei found out now that he hadn't quite yet slipped into anything deeper than a doze and had been roused by his words, he was pretty sure his head would be the next one found at investigation. So no matter what he felt about it... he supposed he'd keep this one to himself.
12. minato/souji
The labyrinth wasn't going anywhere. That was the logic behind it when, exhausted and battered and bruised, the entire squad split up to try to get some rest. Which was not at all easy in a school that was in eternal festival mode, but they managed somehow, grimly squirreling away into corners and dark classrooms. For his part, Minato did what he could to check on his team before he finally flopped down on the stairs between the second and third floors, head lolling back.
Exhausting. This entire thing was exhausting, and there suddenly being double the Persona users to keep track of was not helping at all, not to mention the Investigation Team's exuberant personalities...
Minato was finally starting to doze when there were footsteps, and a breath in--the clear signs of someone having come close and then realized he was asleep. Minato contemplated, briefly, lifting his head--but he was tired, and if it was important, the person in question would wake him.
They didn't, so he assumed it was fine... instead, there were a few more steps, coming closer, and the rustling of clothing as whoever it was sat next to him with a heavy sigh. From the steps, the sigh, and the logic of who would still be wandering around at this hour, Minato was pretty sure it was Souji--
A thought that was proven right when soft words of, "What a day, huh...?" came out of his fellow Wild Card's mouth as Souji slumped against the seats next to him. Minato considered opening his mouth to respond, deciding that Souji must have realized he was only dozing--but then Souji continued, and it became clear he was mostly talking to talk.
"It's not so bad though... having support. With all of us together, it feels like we'll get out of here in no time."
Minato almost smiled at that. It was a sincere sentiment, of the sort he'd started to come to expect out of Souji, but it was still nice to hear. Positivity like that...
"But once we get out of here, I'm going to have to figure out how to still see all of you guys. What's a few years' difference, right?"
Souji stretched, settling back more thoroughly, yawning. "To people like us, that's basically nothing."
Minato's lips did curve upwards at that, slight and easy, but Souji was already dozing off by then, and Minato just shrugged to himself, settling in for a proper sleep as well. Honestly, what was a few years' difference to them? They could summon Personas, they could fight Shadows... they could definitely find each other a few years down the road.
As he drifted off, all he could think was that it was something to look forward to.
21. minato/souji/akira
It was the culmination of too many hours of blood and sweat and tears, of tracking down rumors and leads and fighting enemies that were a notch above what even they were used to.
It had involved Akira popping up out of nowhere in full Phantom Thief regalia, startling years off of Souji's life, and had involved both Akira and Souji tracking down Elizabeth (and then immediately retreating to try a new method of getting through to Elizabeth).
It had involved Persona fusion after Persona fusion, baton passes in the midst of battle with jaws clenched but a fierce light in their eyes as they took on everything that came at them without flinching, because they knew, they knew they were getting closer and closer to their goal.
And when they made it there, breathless in a sea of stars and souls, Elizabeth striding forward with her book tucked neatly under her arm, though only one who wasn't battered and bloody, the only one without ripped and torn clothing... both Souji and Akira were at a loss for words, staring out around them at the vast expanse that surrounded the golden door that they'd both staked their lives on reaching.
And then a grin stretched across Akira's face, fierce and triumphant in equal measure, and when he glanced over at Souji, there was a weary but just as sincere smile decorating his face, and quietly he reached out with his fist held high.
Souji completed the fistbump, knocking knuckles against Akira's quietly, and then they stepped forward to find the last piece to their puzzle, that they'd been missing for such a long time now.
(And when he was there, startled and blinking, clear confusion on his face... still, the first thing Minato said with a small, contented smile was, "I missed you guys", and that sentiment was the same for all three of them, no matter how different they could be.)