(no subject)
Jul. 29th, 2011 11:04 pm“Don’t be so stupid next time.”
Minato almost grimaced as Akihiko scolded him. The leader had done something stupid and his senpai had every reason to be yelling at him. He tried to stay impassive and cool, but Akihiko’s deepening frown made him glance away.
“We’re a team--we fight together. All of us.”
Fuuka had tried to stop him, of course, when he’d insisted that he travel the tower alone, despite the entire team having fallen victim to the approaching-winter colds. But he shook his head and climbed the stairs of Tartarus with determination. He had to be able to make up the lost time of Aigis’ injury, of Shinjiro’s death, of Ikutsuki’s betrayal, of going in the wrong direction for month after month.
He’d been reckless. Of course Akihiko was mad. Fuuka’s phone call had alerted him as the last stroke of midnight died in the air. Presumably, the senior had been sleeping--hopefully he’d been sleeping.
But knowing him, Akihiko had been working out as normal, raising his body temperature higher and higher until he sweat out the fever.
“Didn’t we ask you not to come here without either me or Mitsuru?” Akihiko shook his head as he gently pulled piece after piece of glass from Minato’s injured arm. “I didn’t expect you to be so stupid. I could see Junpei pulling a stunt like this--but you?”
“But--Aigis...” Minato’s protest was feeble. Even he knew that his teammate’s absence was no excuse to be reckless. The disappearance of his own personal guard robot was more of a reason to guard each step. She wasn’t there to protect him from the danger she was so sure existed around him.
“Aigis doesn’t matter. If you get killed in the tower, we’ll just lose another teammate.”
Minato did grimace that time. Partially from the pain as Akihiko pulled a piece of glass that was lodged farther into his arm than the rest, but partially because he hadn’t even considered that his senpai didn’t need to lose another friend and teammate.
“Senpai, I--” But he couldn’t get a word in. Akihiko shot him a look and tore out another peice of glass. He’d been at it for nearly an hour now. His white shirt sleeves were dyed red to his elbows with Minato’s blood.
“Just don’t do it again.”
There was an almost comfortable silence between them as finally, finally the last shard of glass was gone from his arm. Akihiko had removed his gloves for the delicate task. Minato examined the long-healed scars. He supposed they were from fights as a child, from boxing for so long. He supposed the slight unnatural curve to two or three of Akihiko’s fingers was from breaks early in his boxing career. He also supposed he’d fought through them anyway.
“There. You should be fine once we get you back to the dorm.”
Minato was only vaguely aware that he’d somehow made it back to the garden of the school before the Dark Hour had ended, tumbling down the last fight of steps and landing at Fuuka’s feet. He couldn’t remember moving afterward... but he couldn’t remember not moving, either.
He’d really screwed himself up. Akihiko straightened from his crouch at Minato’s side. “Summoning a Persona is too risky here. We might be seen, and we don’t want to get any weird questions.” Breaking his serious expression, Akihiko looked pained. “Mitsuru wouldn’t let us live it down, come on.”
Minato took his outstretched hand, relying heavily on the older boy to pull him up before stumbling and nearly falling on his face again. A glance at this pathetic display was too much for Akihiko, and he tugged the hand he was still clenching over his shoulder, wrapping his own free arm around Minato’s waist.
Again, Minato opened his mouth to protest, but Akihiko stopped him. He wasn’t looking Minato in the eyes when he spoke again. “I had to drag Shinji home from enough fights that this isn’t a problem.”
The walk back was silent, but not tense. And as Minato watched Akihiko’s face, calm and determined, he realized that he wasn’t looking ahead, but looking back, to when he carried his best friend in the same way.
And, even though it hurt to move, even though he was just looking forward to getting home and collapsing in bed, and even though he dreaded Mitsuru’s reaction to his own stupidity...
Just this once, he was glad to remind his senpai of a simpler, happier time.
Minato almost grimaced as Akihiko scolded him. The leader had done something stupid and his senpai had every reason to be yelling at him. He tried to stay impassive and cool, but Akihiko’s deepening frown made him glance away.
“We’re a team--we fight together. All of us.”
Fuuka had tried to stop him, of course, when he’d insisted that he travel the tower alone, despite the entire team having fallen victim to the approaching-winter colds. But he shook his head and climbed the stairs of Tartarus with determination. He had to be able to make up the lost time of Aigis’ injury, of Shinjiro’s death, of Ikutsuki’s betrayal, of going in the wrong direction for month after month.
He’d been reckless. Of course Akihiko was mad. Fuuka’s phone call had alerted him as the last stroke of midnight died in the air. Presumably, the senior had been sleeping--hopefully he’d been sleeping.
But knowing him, Akihiko had been working out as normal, raising his body temperature higher and higher until he sweat out the fever.
I sense death!
Minato tensed, turning down the volume of his headphones to better listen to the halls of the floor. All he could hear was heavy breath and the sloshing of the occasional shadow. He opened his mouth to ask if she was sure when the shadow had attacked him from behind.
It was much stronger than him, and had him backed into a corner. With the first strike slamming hard into his back, Minato was instantly brought to his knees. If it wasn’t for his own stupidity and stubbornness, the shadow would’ve been easy to bring down. Weak to electric and ice--but it wasn’t letting him get a shot in.
What was worse--Fuuka was alerting him that the dark hour would be over within minutes. He had to get out of this now, or he’d be trapped in here for days, just like she had once been. He took a deep breath and rolled out of the way of another attack. It was so apparent that this was far beyond his level, he wondered if this was fate’s cruel sense of humor.
“Didn’t we ask you not to come here without either me or Mitsuru?” Akihiko shook his head as he gently pulled piece after piece of glass from Minato’s injured arm. “I didn’t expect you to be so stupid. I could see Junpei pulling a stunt like this--but you?”
“But--Aigis...” Minato’s protest was feeble. Even he knew that his teammate’s absence was no excuse to be reckless. The disappearance of his own personal guard robot was more of a reason to guard each step. She wasn’t there to protect him from the danger she was so sure existed around him.
“Aigis doesn’t matter. If you get killed in the tower, we’ll just lose another teammate.”
Minato did grimace that time. Partially from the pain as Akihiko pulled a piece of glass that was lodged farther into his arm than the rest, but partially because he hadn’t even considered that his senpai didn’t need to lose another friend and teammate.
No--! Please, get up!
He hadn’t realized there was glass to break in Tartarus. He hadn’t realized that a human body could make that sickening crunch along with shattering glass.
Stars danced across his eyes as the shadow looked down at him and seemed to laugh. Black curled around the edge of his vision as he hit the floor on both knees. All he could taste was metal and blood in his mouth. He was done. He had to be done. There was no way he was going to get back up. He felt warm spreading across his sleeve as blood dripped from the deep wounds in his arm.
. . .
. . . . . . . . .
It felt so nice to close his eyes... after a long fight, to rest................
No, goddamnit, he wasn’t dropping here.
He gritted his teeth, though blood dripped down his scalp, though his arm burned with pain, completely immobilized, though he knew getting down the stairs before the Dark Hour ended was going to be impossible. He only had one chance--as the shadow reacted in surprise to his revival--to drive the sword home.
And then the sword clattered to the ground.
“Senpai, I--” But he couldn’t get a word in. Akihiko shot him a look and tore out another peice of glass. He’d been at it for nearly an hour now. His white shirt sleeves were dyed red to his elbows with Minato’s blood.
“Just don’t do it again.”
There was an almost comfortable silence between them as finally, finally the last shard of glass was gone from his arm. Akihiko had removed his gloves for the delicate task. Minato examined the long-healed scars. He supposed they were from fights as a child, from boxing for so long. He supposed the slight unnatural curve to two or three of Akihiko’s fingers was from breaks early in his boxing career. He also supposed he’d fought through them anyway.
“There. You should be fine once we get you back to the dorm.”
Minato was only vaguely aware that he’d somehow made it back to the garden of the school before the Dark Hour had ended, tumbling down the last fight of steps and landing at Fuuka’s feet. He couldn’t remember moving afterward... but he couldn’t remember not moving, either.
He’d really screwed himself up. Akihiko straightened from his crouch at Minato’s side. “Summoning a Persona is too risky here. We might be seen, and we don’t want to get any weird questions.” Breaking his serious expression, Akihiko looked pained. “Mitsuru wouldn’t let us live it down, come on.”
Minato took his outstretched hand, relying heavily on the older boy to pull him up before stumbling and nearly falling on his face again. A glance at this pathetic display was too much for Akihiko, and he tugged the hand he was still clenching over his shoulder, wrapping his own free arm around Minato’s waist.
Again, Minato opened his mouth to protest, but Akihiko stopped him. He wasn’t looking Minato in the eyes when he spoke again. “I had to drag Shinji home from enough fights that this isn’t a problem.”
The walk back was silent, but not tense. And as Minato watched Akihiko’s face, calm and determined, he realized that he wasn’t looking ahead, but looking back, to when he carried his best friend in the same way.
And, even though it hurt to move, even though he was just looking forward to getting home and collapsing in bed, and even though he dreaded Mitsuru’s reaction to his own stupidity...
Just this once, he was glad to remind his senpai of a simpler, happier time.