[All things considered, Ken knew this was probably a bad idea. However, at the same time, he knew that he couldn't refuse his senpai. Not when she was curious about this 'sushi pizza'. That said, he really didn't know how to make this.
Was it simply just rice, fish, and some bread? He didn't know as he gave a long sigh in the longue. Looking at the computer, scrolling information about this was a lot more difficult than he thought.]
[ Is there even such a thing as a thing as a proper methodology for making sushi pizza? Perhaps he's about to find out.
Anyway, here's that familiar voice from behind him - although Mitsuru hasn't gotten close enough to get a proper look at exactly what it is he's looking at on the computer screen yet. ]
You sound a little frustrated. Is there something I can assist you with?
[ Yep, she'd like to think that Ken is studying. Not that she'll ever give anyone the answers to their homework or anything like that. Her idea of help is always more intense tuition from her, until the other person figures out the answers for themselves or loses the will to live. ]
[As he heard a familiar voice, he lowered his head before wondering if he should turn around. Suddenly, it felt like he was trapped.
In the back of his mind, he didn't know what he should say as he feared what his senpai would say if she knew what he was looking up.]
N-No, it's okay! I was just looking something how to make something. I got a little curious about...the food you mentioned a while back.
[Because sooner or later, Mitsuru would ask about it again, right? He might as well try and figure out how to make it before it was too late! Although, from the things he was looking up, it sure looked a lot more complicated than he thought.]
In the lower levels of one of the Kirijo Group's laboratories, a few scientists lead Mitsuru down a hallway. They offer many hurried apologies as they walk. After all, the girl who they're guiding has just lost her father and is in the process of taking control over the company he once ran, yet here they are preparing to push another responsibility onto her. Mitsuru's been given a manila folder full of information on someone with a familiar name—someone who, quite soon, will be hers to manage.
Kaito Nagano. A third year at Gekkoukan, and a longtime Iwatodai resident. Through elementary and middle school he was a hot-blooded but likeable delinquent. The kind of troublemaker who stuck his neck out for other kids and was considered reliable by those who looked past the fact that he was constantly stirring the pot.
That changed by the time he entered high school. The Kaito that Mitsuru is more likely acquainted with is the taciturn and severe Botany Club president who glares at her with some one-sided ire every time they pass each other in the halls. He never goes out of his way to attack her, but his gaze has made it clear that he has some sort of hangup with her. The files she's been asked to flip through while traversing the halls should offer more context.
The Kaito that she and the scientists are approaching is a Persona User—one who had been under Shuji Ikutsuki's "care" for the last three years. Notes on the front page suggest he's just one of Ikutsuki's many experiments; another soldier, another layer of insurance in his plans. Not the first by far, and unfortunately, not the last.
There's much more in his file regarding detailed tests and their results as well as behavioral observations, but one note that was highlighted is the fact that Kaito's family (a brother, parents, and grandfather) have all fallen under Apathy Syndrome and have been cared for by the Kirijo Group since Ikutsuki took him in.
Eventually, the group reaches a door near the end of the hallway, and inside... ]
[ Within a sterile white room that feels more like a cell than a living space, Kaito lays in bed in blue pajamas. His left arm from the elbow down is locked in a cast, and with his right he's reading some kind of book. The only other signs that his room isn't vacant are a rack of uniforms and casual clothes in one corner, his book bag hanging off a post at the end of his bed, and a night stand with a small, slender case propped open on it.
As Mitsuru and the scientists enter, the redhead will likely notice the Evoker sitting polished inside the box. Kaito turns his head towards the scientists as if to greet them, but his lips purse shut the moment he lays eyes on Mitsuru. He slowly kicks his legs off the bed to sit up. ]
The hell is this? Where's Ikutsuki? [ A beat. He squints past the StuCo president. ] ...You're not his cronies. What's going on?
[ The lead scientist among the group clears his throat. ]
"Ikutsuki-san is no longer with us. Starting today, you'll be reassigned to SEES and put under the direct supervision of Miss Kirijo."
[ His voice is a little shaky, as if he's nervous to be speaking directly to the third year. He and the other scientists have had the time to pore over his files, and the trepidation in their eyes hints that they think they're talking to a barely-restrained attack dog rather than a teenager. Kaito bristles at the mention of Mitsuru, and now the whole group's being scrutinized.
After a moment, he slowly asks: ] Then, are the terms and conditions of my indentured servitude changing? Even if I'm going to be working under my enemy, will you still be handling my family's medical expenses?
[ Sharp golds lock to Mitsuru's auburn. His entire body is tense, like he's ready to spring out of his seat and go for her neck—yet his voice remains level as he awaits a reply. ]
[ Mitsuru had taken the manila folder, read it as diligently as expected of her - nobody would expect anything less from her. It doesn't matter that she feels hollow on the inside, appearances must be maintained. The hurried apologies of the scientists around her might as well fall on deaf ears, although she politely acknowledges them all the same. She is the head of the Kirijo Group now, she must conduct herself with proper decorum, although her inner self feels broken.
Kaito Nagano is indeed a name that is familiar to her; a third year like herself, president of Gekkoukan's Botany Club... also someone who has always seemed to have held an abject dislike for her, for no reason that she was able to place. Now though, reading this file, it's becoming all too clear why he's only ever greeted her with an extremely frosty reception at best.
It's no different when Mitsuru enters the boy's room... if one could call said room that. A cell definitely felt more to what it actually is. Every fibre of his being seems to exude one thing when it comes to her: hatred. She's no stranger to being a polarising figure, everything about her; her family's status, her wealth, her influence... let's just say it has never always brought out a positive reaction in people. But this... this is an abject dislike of her in the extreme.
She's careful not to let any kind of disconcerted feelings on this matter show on her face. The scientists seem afraid of him, this boy, another one of that man's experiments... and wasn't it already going to be hard enough to leave that monster's legacy behind? Now, here she is, face to face with yet another remnant of it.
Yes, the others are definitely afraid of him, it's written all over their face, but Mitsuru... no, she isn't afraid of him. Even with the way he looks at her as he addresses them, as if he's barely containing himself from springing upon her. No, all she feels is... remorse, pity even, perhaps? Nagano might have become Ikutsuki's project, but what had become of his family and in turn him... well, the fault of that lies with her family's legacy. There is no escaping that fact, compounded when he uses the term enemy.
One thing is for certain, no matter how much he might hate her, he's not going to be staying here anymore. Her tone is cool as she addresses him, not hostile, just careful not to betray anything that she's feeling right now, in this moment. ]
All of your family's medical expenses will continue to be handled by the Kirijo Group, of that I can assure you.
Additionally, you will no longer be staying here - instead, you'll be accompanying me to the Iwatodai dormitory upon my return. We will make arrangements to have your belongings moved there accordingly.
[ She casts her eyes around the assembled group of scientists, as if daring them to show some kind of objection. They don't. Though some of their expressions might convey mixed feelings on the matter. ]
[ Something shifts in the teen's gaze, well before she speaks. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and scar-riddled fingers curl into his palms, balling them into trembling fists. His self-control is point for point as measured as hers, for he waits until after all is said to spit his retort. ]
I'm not the kicked dog in this room right now, Kirijo. [ He leans ever so slightly towards her while he speaks, but to the already-anxious scientists he may as well have lunged at their throats. As a group, they shuffle back towards the door. Kaito holds himself there, looking like he wants to say more... but the rage seething in his eyes dies down, and he takes a step back. The malice in his voice is gone; in its place, a faint hint of understanding. ]
Save that pity for yourself, for... whatever the hell it is you're grieving for.
[ Make no mistake—the redhead constructed her facade immaculately. There was nothing to read in either her gaze or her level features. Yet this simply confirms more of Ikutsuki's sins. One of the experiments performed on Kaito awakened a preternatural sense of empathy in him, uncannily accurate to the point of being mistaken for mind reading.
Kaito turns and stoops to grab a luggage case from under his bed. He tosses it on the mattress and flips the lid open before glancing over his shoulder. ]
I accept your terms, though I imagine I didn't have much choice in the matter to begin with. It beats being stared at by those cowards like I'm some starving beast.
[ In going through each of the clubs in turn and addressing each of their respective presidents, the Student Council president had kept things short and concise. It isn't as though she hadn't left room for negotiations for those who had their budget increase requests rejected... they just had simply chosen to immediately back down. Because the truth is Mitsuru Kirijo is intimidating. She's not trying to be, in this situation at least, she just is.
Truthfully, she's disappointed. As president, student well being is a priority, but so is managing club budgets with a sensible and measured approach. She could approve increases with justification. Yet it seems those assembled have been unwilling to really put in a fight for their clubs, to show their commitment.... So when it's the turn of the Botany Club's President, she decides to switch gears.
Kaito Nagano. Nobody here knows the extent of her... relations with her fellow third year, Mitsuru would very like to keep it that way. However, some overruling part of her simply can't resist the urge to engage with him. Her mahogany eyes meet his across the table and while her expression conveys nothing but cold, aloof neutrality, her being itself is conveying something very different to him... ]
This is a proposed budget increase of over 10%, Nagano. How do you justify such a significant jump in expenditure in such a short period?
[ Of course she can't stop herself making these things sound like an actual business meeting between departments...
There's a palpable change in atmosphere in the room at her words to Nagano. None of the other club leaders had been asked to justify their proposals so directly... ]
[ Club president meetings are one of the most boring events of Kaito's month.
At least, that's how Kaito used to feel before joining SEES. Nowadays, with the nightly runs to Tartarus and, uh, other extracurricular activities, the third year has come to appreciate these quiet opportunities to listen to his arch nemesis drone on about budgets in her alluring voice—
Wait, what? What were we talking about???
Oh. Right. Mitsuru's just set her gaze on him, and past the frigid facade of Gekkoukan's icy empress, he sees the spark of something else. Tugging his gloves on tighter, the Botany Club's president stands up, turns his chair around, then plops down to rest his arms and head on the back. ]
If you double check my report, Kirijo, you'll see that the club has gained five more students. That puts us to twenty-nine, which is an approximately twenty-one percent increase in members, and each of those five will need enough supplies to start growing two plants.
[ He waggles a gloved finger, and the student next to him gawps at such a (perceivably) insulting motion towards the redhead. Kaito, however, remains as casual as, uh, something casual. ]
And if you recall, this past summer saw several heat waves that damaged the rooftop planters and their contents. Despite our best efforts to reverse the damage, several of those flowers have died this past month and will need replacing.
Ten percent seems pretty reasonable for this month's needs. That is, unless you want the roof to lose its color through winter?
[ Golds gleam with a challenging shine. The corners of his lips curl in a small smile. If she wants to stir the pot in front of all the other club leaders, he's more than happy to oblige. ]
[ Mitsuru's not even sure why she feels the need to challenge him on something as simple and mundane as his club budget. The school has the funds, she should know that better than anyone here because of her family, regardless of her role as Student Council president. This certainly isn't the older equivalent of a pair of elementary school students pulling each other's hair in the playground because they don't know how to express themselves any other way... certainly not.
When he mentions the increase in club members, she's struck by the staggeringly inappropriate urge to roll her eyes. Although she doesn't, not outwardly anyway because Mitsuru Kirijo would never. Right, the girls. She should have known. Having to allocate a large portion of the school's budget for what is essentially his Fan Club... ]
Of course I don't. I would never seek to deprive the student body of something that increases their well being. That and I know just how hard you and your club members work on those plants and how it's their singular focus...
[ It isn't. They both know it isn't and she's letting him know in no uncertain terms. The plants are just a side project for some of his members, him being the actual focus. Why does that bother her? ]
But perhaps if you are to take such a large percentage of the club budget then you might see fit to invest in some sturdier specimens this time around.
[ Unlikely that he could have avoided it anyway, a palm tree might have wilted in those heat waves but nobody said she was being reasonable here. ]
[Life moves in cycles for most - blurs, blanks and vivid flashes intertwined in a cacophony of experiences that make up someone's existence.
His was blurs and blanks, overwhelming muk in murky waves and apathy that pushed it forward. Moments of reprieve that feel like he's stuck in a madman's dream and crashes of reality that remind him it can't be the case.
So he can't really connect the dots between point a and b, when there's never been a clear place to put down those roots, and figure out when things started to work. Can't peg the moment clarity that became the norm or figure out how in the series of rushed meetings, clipped conversations, fights and shared goals that made things end up-
With Akechi laying on his on the living room floor of their shared unit, face propped up with one arm and the other watching an unsubtitled tutorial in a rapidly spoken language he can't place. The clip is shaky, cloudy, and at a resolution that feels suited for the early 2000s, not whatever year this is.
He's turning this situation into something more manageable though - making a metaphorical mental hitlist. The 'build your own' furniture site that he's assured is closer to black market than retail and the salesperson there who gave him a look before saying he should hire out the installer at the top. Akira makes a surprise appearance because why not. Number three this time though - that's progress.
A finger presses against the rewind button again to try and glean out the bullshit on this darkened screen.
The mess around him is organized. Somewhat. Different panels strewn on the floor in varying sizes, nails and bolts organized neatly on a coffee table behind him, and the inky mess of an instruction booklet that met its fate during a well timed downpour.]
Perhaps it's too much to ask that the internet provide something useful. [Rewind. Brighten. Playback speed 0.5.] It seems it's only good for manipulating the public and getting engagement on food blogs. What a shame.
[Which is a super normal reaction to have when trying to put a bookcase together from a shady market dealer. Very normal. He's doing great.]
[ Mitsuru had let him handle the bookcase purchase - and all potential drama that would come with that apparently. She should have expected the latter but it had seemed like such a straightforward, simple enough task to trust him with that nothing could possibly go wrong.
As it turns out, sometimes her judgement could actually be way off.
She's been pretending not to observe him too closely each time she passes through the living room - on this occasion on her way to the kitchen to make tea. Occasionally she glances towards where he's camped out on the living room floor. How many times has he hit that rewind button now?
Mon dieu.
Enough is enough apparently. ]
You know, I can simply ask Kikuno to purchase an already assembled bookcase for us?
[ Her ever faithful and super organised maid takes care of everything else after all. Herein follows a short pause. ]
... It's still not too late for me to do that.
[ She's sure she can arrange to have the half-assembled mess returned easily enough. Few people say no to a Kirijo after all. ]
[The answer is immediate and he doesn't entertain the suggestion in the slightest. He started this. Began the day with one singular goal in mind and will not end, will not relent, will not sleep until this bookcase is put together. It's a rectangle made of wood slabs and nails. It's not rocket science.]
I used to be a detective. Do you truly have no faith in my ability to figure out how to stick a few slabs of wood together?
[Said as he's splayed around those wooden slabs and a collection of tools that have gone untouched since his decision to violently replay this video. He chooses not to look at the evidence around him.]
Returning or replacing this piece is simply out of the question.
Turns out hearing that this might be your last month ever on this mortal plane really does bring its own entirely unique frantic mix of emotions, nearly all of which seem impossible to describe or parse right now. There was fear certainly - Mochizuki had given them all of the information he could, yet the coming of Nyx still remains a terrifying and unknown prospect. How could it not be?
Then there was the determination they all shared, the belief that they could defeat her. That this wouldn't be the end.
But what if it is? Mitsuru had always been a pragmatist, Mochizuki had made the odds of their success plain to all who had been assembled that night. He had said it was impossible for them to win and he meant it. That means that a part of the Kirijo heiress has to accept her own mortality, accept the possibility that there is a very real chance that none of them would be coming back from this.
Everyone had already gone to bed following Arisato's decision but that doesn't mean that the redhead had been able to find any kind of slumber since she had retired to her room. She hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to Akihiko alone since the verdict had been delivered. They had shared so much, it didn't seem right that they didn't talk this over between them privately before they really did try and sleep.
Who knows though? Maybe Akihiko really was as confident as ever and had just gone to sleep without a single iota of doubt in his head. Still, Mitsuru is going to take the chance that he might still be awake and knock very lightly on his door. She doesn't want any of the other boys overhearing after all. She's not entirely sure why but the need for this to be private suddenly seems paramount... ]
(Akihiko would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit concerned about the upcoming battle. It's easy enough to be confident, to say that the entire team were strong and coherent enough to take down whatever got thrown their way. But the pieces on the chessboard changed with Mochizuki and his information, the mentions of Nyx and the overarching chaos it would bring. The options given to them had been dramatic too; die not knowing it was going to happen, or to battle.
Arisato had made the right choice; Akihiko knows he would rather take the chance and, if it happened, go down fighting until his last breath. As for the others, it's difficult to know what they're thinking. Each of them had their own way of coping with things and Akihiko can't claim he's fully coherent with the potential End of Days looming. He even burned rice that evening, distracted by thoughts of battles and strategies to pay much heed to stirring the food.
Akihiko huffs quietly at his ceiling, staring at it as if that part of his room will suddenly unveil all the answers if looked at hard enough. Sleep is eluding him and eventually he rolls over, giving his pillow a firm punch as if the action itself would bring a few hours of rest. Being tired won't help reflex times and Akihiko finds himself staring at the wall instead. Dammit.)
Hm? (The small knock at his door isn't missed and he welcomes the distraction, getting out of bed to crack the door open a few inches. There's no surprise to see Mitsuru standing there and Akihiko steps back, opening the door to allow the redhead to step inside.) Something wrong?
[ Mitsuru can't help but smile wryly at the question he asks as she steps into his room. ] That's a rather loaded question, is it not?
[ Where does she even begin to describe how many things are wrong right now? Akihiko could be dense when it comes to certain things, hardheaded certainly but she's sure in this case that there are no prizes for guessing what is keeping her sleepless tonight.
She doesn't come into his room all that often, they usually keep their mingling to the more communal areas, but never the less the familiar sights in his room are oddly comforting. His many boxing trophies, his protein powder tubs and the ever present workout equipment that she had told him time and time again not to have in his room lest the floor give out- it's all so very him. They had been ever present in each other's lives since junior high now, it's too hard to comprehend that everything they'd known, everything they had been fighting together to achieve up until now might be all for naught.
But she can't let herself think that way. ]
I am sorry for disturbing you so late, Akihiko. I just couldn't sleep... and I figured you might be awake too.
[ She pauses, that usual calm, aloof demeanor of hers fading away a little just for a moment as she looks at him. ]
...Would it perhaps be alright if I stayed for just a little while? Unless of course you were about to fall asleep, in which case I will take my leave now.
[ How does she even begin to admit that she doesn't want to be alone right now? That of all the people she knows he is one of those she trusts the most and right now, after receiving the worst blow since her father had died, she just wants to be in the boxer's company a while... ]
[ They've been doing this for a while now. Ever since their first time in this very same hotel, Nanami and Mitsuru have met up regularly, discreetly. No one knows that for the two of them — after school activities aren't just tutoring and the duties of the student council president but something much more illicit. Nanami is grateful that this hotel is owned by Mitsuru's family, in that he isn't sure if they would've made it this far without the discretion of the Kirijo group.
He is still her teacher, after all, and she is still his student.
But their attraction to each other runs deep, carnal, potent. It's hard to be alone together without gravitating into each other's orbit. He knows that she'll likely tire of him some day and move on to live her life, probably when she attends college and meets more people her age. Yet, he will savor what he has with her in the time that he has it. He will make sure that neither of them grow tired of each other while they are together. That he pleases her, as best as he can.
Which is why, right now, he is buried between her legs. She is laying sprawled out on the bed, legs splayed while he lays flat between them, her legs hooked over his shoulders while he devours her pussy. One hand works to part her folds, his thumb rubbing at her clit while his tongue buries itself in her entrance and licks at her inner walls. Eager and hungry, he continues to eat her out with gusto. He has no intention to stop anytime soon, wanting to make her come as many times as possible like this.
It's Saturday — school is over for the week and they don't have to return to their duties until Monday morning. So, they escaped for their hideaway at the hotel and it wasn't long until they were touching. Touching turned to kissing. Kissing turned to grinding. And then the grinding spilled into bed, clothes being torn off while he settled between her legs to get to work.
He wonders, briefly, if she'd be open to spending their whole weekend here like this, tangled together, falling from one orgasm to the next. ]
[ Perhaps there will come a time when Mitsuru gets bored of her teacher. If such a possibility were put to her right now however she would have trouble believing it. Not with what he can do with his mouth.
It's like the most exquisite kind of torture that Nanami is putting her through, each moment more intense than the last. At first, the first time he'd done this, she'd been hesitant to grab a fistful of her teacher's hair, clinging to some remnants of propriety and respect despite what he'd been doing to her. Now though, Mitsuru shows no such hesitance in tangling her fingers in the blonde strands, elegant, slender fingers caressing his scalp, using him as anchor while he completely undoes her.
Her other hand clings to the sheets beneath her, knuckles turning white with the effort, her thighs twitching with each delicious stroke of his tongue against where she's most sensitive. He is so, so good at this. Would someone her own age even be able to approach his level of skill at completely unraveling her? Doubtful. ]
You're... You're going to make me come-
[ Again. This one feels big though- that warmth building in her lower body, thighs still twitching uncontrollably. She arches off the bed as the sensations grow, suddenly extremely conscious that he might be about to draw a particularly wet orgasm out of her- he'd made her squirt before, but not like this, not with his mouth down there... It makes her nervous, what if he hates it and- ]
I think- I think I'm going to- [ Her eyes widen as she looks down at him and oh god, please get what she's trying to say. She cuts herself off as she cries out, the backs of her legs digging into his shoulders, trying to hold back but already knowing it's a battle she isn't going to win. ]
[ The first time he'd done this, he'd been careful, almost hesitant. He knows he was the first one to ever do that to her and that he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable or taken advantage of. But he so desperately wanted to pleasure her with his mouth, wanted to have her ache and scream and spill her pleasure all over him as he mouthed at her. It's a deep kind of ache, the one he has to put his mouth all over her body — to eat her out, to suck on her breasts, to kiss her breathless. He's done all of these things now but the first time was always memorable.
This too is memorable. The way she cries her warning, you're going to make me come, as if that isn't exactly what he wants. He can feel the way her fingers clutch at his hair, the desperate hold she has on him. He continues to work his mouth over her though but he can tell her desperation to get him to pull away. It doesn't take much for him to figure out why. She's going to squirt, probably, too embarrassed about it to do it with his mouth against her.
Does he mind though? No. His eyes flicker up to meet hers, to watch her face and then she is crying out as she digs into his shoulders and clenches around him. He growls, low, and mouths at her even deeper. His tongue drags along her folds, gets to her entrance and opens wide so when she finally comes, all of it goes straight into his mouth. It's... probably disgusting. Definitely disgusting. But he doesn't mind at all, not as he swallows down her release and licks her out aggressively in turn.
This is when he should stop, should pause, should give her some relief. He doesn't though. Instead, he slides two fingers into her entrance, fucking her with them gently as he rubs calloused fingers against her inner walls. At the same time, his tongue circles her clit, sucking and nipping lightly on the sensitive bud as he breathes out heavily and continues his ministrations. ]
There's something about the way Mitsuru's eyes are, sharp and full of a subtle strength, like those of authority. Add the incessant need in her showing through that window, and it's a mesmerizing sight. It made Troy throb against her touch, with her hand caressing the girth of his shaft and the heat of their skin join upon this salacious contact. ]
Mmmm... You like it, huh?
[ He asks in a low rumbly voice as he moves his hips back, letting her keep her grasp on his cock but also letting the underside of him brush against her. The base of his cock pressing down against her mound, brushing against the top of her folds. ]
Then I'm putting it in, and look only to me while I do it, okay?
[ Ryuji's new client is Mitsuru Kirijo. That Mitsuru Kirijo. When he got the request and the appointment came through, he was stunned. No, clearly this was a mistake, wouldn't she prefer some fancy physical therapist, exclusive for celebrities or something? That said, he did work at a really great hospital and was their best therapist on staff but surely... surely she deserved better?
That was his thought, even when she came in for the first time and they discussed pain points and things she wanted to improve. Even as they came up with an action plan for her to work on and set up recurring appointments to boot. Even when her schedule became so busy that it made it difficult for her to come in and he offered to do house calls instead.
The house calls were maybe not the best idea though because he found the more time they spent alone, the more this — this tension was developing between them. Of course he was attracted to her. It's Mitsuru Kirijo, one of the most beautiful people in all of Japan. And he made her laugh. It was just the once, while they were talking and he was massaging her down after a session but he said something — he doesn't even remember what — and she laughed. It stunned him to silence and he remembers being so flushed and happy in response.
So, as their sessions continued and so did that tension. Lingering touches, glances, small smiles, it was all just too much to take. And he was spending more and more of his evenings at Mitsuru's home to meet her for their sessions. She had a whole set up for him, with supplies and everything. And then after, a massage table for him to work her body loose again afterwards. Tonight, he as here again, Mitsuru laid out in front of him with nothing but a towel. And in his hands, a small bottle of oil he brought with him for the massage. He thought, if he was going to massage her anyway he might as well do it properly, so he explained — ]
It's a warmin' oil. Should really help ya to relax a bit and let your muscles loosen up. Just let me know if it's too much.
[ And with that, he spilled some onto his palms and got to work. For now, he started at her shoulders, skilled hands massaging into the meat of her body and helping the muscles relax. ]
[ Mitsuru can't pinpoint exactly the moment when things between herself and her new physical therapist had begun to shift. She just knows that what she's feeling towards Sakamoto is entirely inappropriate on almost every level she can think of. Of course she had had her pick of physios, but she had shunned any private, fancier options in favour of the one she'd heard good things about and eventually secured private sessions with him at her home at a rate far higher that she needed to pay but was happy to do so. She'd hired him to help keep her physical form in tip-top shape and help her heal better from any injuries, it's a business transaction... No room for... Well, other things.
Except, he is definitely... cute. That's the word one of her friends might use to describe him, right? Cute, sweet, with something of a puppy about him when it comes to wanting to please her. Mitsuru might be aloof but you'd have to have a shard of ice in place of a heart not to be endeared by him. He also has an athletic build - she might have gotten it out of him that he used to be an athlete once upon a time, clearly he'd done his best to keep up that physique.
Anyway, none of that is what she should be focusing on right now - yet, what else is there to focus on once his hands are on her like this? ]
I will, although I'm sure it won't be.
[ He's always perfect with his hands, always knowing just the right amount of pressure to apply, causing her to melt into such a purely relaxed state beneath him on the table. Tonight seems like it will be no different. She can already feel the knots in her shoulders built up through the stress of the day beginning to loosen and she can't help but let out a soft sigh. ]
[ There's a soft laugh there at the compliment, a touch of shyness to it when he hears the praise. From Mitsuru? Any praise is something to behold. He knows she has a reputation for being harsh and cold but with him, he's never seen her as anything but polite and kind. She gives him praise when she feels it's deserved and doesn't mind it when he natters on to fill the quiet space between them. So, he really doesn't know if he'd ever call her cold himself. ]
You make it easy to be, Kirijo-san. You're always good to work with.
[ She's thoughtful and considerate in their sessions. Knows how far her body can move and even willing to press past that sometimes for the sake of being her best self. She's his best client, by and large, and he doesn't think that just because he's attracted to her. Just because there's this... tension between them.
It makes him wonder though, if he'd do anything about this tension. Of course, right now he thinks about it too, with her naked in nothing but a towel in front of him. It would be so easy to run his hands over her body and...
Oh, don't think that, Ryuji. You'll get distracted.
He's on her back now, massaging into her sides with strong, firm hands. He can't help but envision what it'd be like to wrap them around her body, to knead at her breasts instead. But he shakes the thought from his head immediately, focusing instead on where he's allowed to touch.
Ah... maybe he should put on some music. Or talk? He doesn't know. Right now, there's only the sound of their breathing in the quiet of the room. ]
[ It's Christmas and he's in Tartarus at a Kirijo family Christmas gala for some god damn reason. He just knows he's there, as Mitsuru's date, though it's not really a date and just him being present because she needed a male suitor to be with her and he was the innocent bystander she decided to choose. He'd rather be doing anything else, but he's on Christmas break from university and he doesn't really want to spend the day with his parents.
So, Kirijo gala. Mitsuru. Letting her dress him up in a suit and that being the end of it. He sighs as he stands near the refreshment table, swishing the eggnog in his glass around a few times before taking a sip and wondering where Mitsuru went. They got split up pretty early on as she had some business people to talk to and he figured she'd find him again later but later has become now and now has been a while.
Which means he supposes now's as good a time as any to go look for her? He starts wandering the party, looking for that familiar head of red hair and even slipping out into the hallway to see if she's in another room. It's during this that he gets stopped by some woman. She looks like a model, but he doesn't really think much of it because it's not like he knows her. She just seems like another annoying woman who wants to bother him.
Hey, cutie. (Hmm. Him, cute?) Do you know what you're standing under right now?
At this, he blinks at her and looks up, spotting the sprig of mistletoe that she's trapped him under. His eyebrows furrow and he doesn't seem very happy when he looks back at the woman, giving a shake of his head. ]
I have a date.
[ Oh, but she's not here right now, is she? Come on, one little kiss and I'll let you go~ ♥ ]
[ It's like she's got a sixth sense for Akihiko getting himself into shenanigans or something. Mitsuru had already felt a little guilty for parting company with him so quickly but he knows the drill by now, how any social occasion isn't really that for her, it's work. Plus it's not like this is a real date, he's just doing her a favour with accompanying her to this thing. He just gets to hang around and get some free fancy refreshments for a couple of hours.
Still, she's managed to get away for a little while and intends to track him down to at least check in- and finds him in a situation she totally should have predicted. She has no idea who opted to put mistletoe up there but she suddenly finds herself more than a little annoyed at whoever did... a little too much wine maybe? Although she hadn't had much, she prefers to keep a clear head at these events after all.
The redhead shows zero hesitance in announcing herself as she approaches the pair, especially once she overhears their conversation. And here was she thinking he might have escaped this kind of thing since they left high school. Of course not. ]
I am the “date,” and I believe he is attempting to convey — albeit indirectly —that he is not interested.
[ Perhaps it's her cold, lofty tone, the way the space around them seems to drop quite a few degrees in temperature or the fact that it's Mitsuru Kirijo addressing her but suddenly the other woman doesn't seem in such a hurry to get cosy. In fact she's in more of a hurry to get away, albeit with something of a disappointed pout thrown in the direction of her quarry...
Mitsuru sighs once she's gone. ]
Apologies for being absent so long. I didn't think you'd get hassle like that here.
[ Although, objectively speaking, why wouldn't he? He's perhaps her oldest friend but it's not as though she can't see that he's good looking. Objectively speaking. ]
[ Honestly, the frigid air is like a welcome balm to Akihiko when he feels it before he sees Mitsuru and then he lights up when she arrives, feeling relief course through his veins. She'll save him! And also probably get mad at him for ending up in this situation, but it's fine. As long as the stranger goes and he returns to his rightful place by Mitsuru's side. When the lady all but flees afterwards, he turns a bright grin to Mitsuru, though he does wish for a moment he picked the hot cocoa over the eggnog if only to warm himself up a bit. ]
It's alright. Needed something interesting to happen anyway.
[ Because he's been bored out of his mind and seeing Mitsuru scare off an unwanted flirt is a lot more entertaining than anything else. ]
Are you still working or are you back to the party?
[ Just curiously asking, though he doesn't seem to realize that they're still standing under the mistletoe. Together. ]
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Let me know if this is okay!
Was it simply just rice, fish, and some bread? He didn't know as he gave a long sigh in the longue. Looking at the computer, scrolling information about this was a lot more difficult than he thought.]
lmao perfect! poor ken
Anyway, here's that familiar voice from behind him - although Mitsuru hasn't gotten close enough to get a proper look at exactly what it is he's looking at on the computer screen yet. ]
You sound a little frustrated. Is there something I can assist you with?
[ Yep, she'd like to think that Ken is studying. Not that she'll ever give anyone the answers to their homework or anything like that. Her idea of help is always more intense tuition from her, until the other person figures out the answers for themselves
or loses the will to live. ]no subject
In the back of his mind, he didn't know what he should say as he feared what his senpai would say if she knew what he was looking up.]
N-No, it's okay! I was just looking something how to make something. I got a little curious about...the food you mentioned a while back.
[Because sooner or later, Mitsuru would ask about it again, right? He might as well try and figure out how to make it before it was too late! Although, from the things he was looking up, it sure looked a lot more complicated than he thought.]
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sorry for the late, first week of school is always fun.
my turn to apologise! manic week at work combined with my brain melting in a random heatwave
It's all good!!
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third years must suffer
In the lower levels of one of the Kirijo Group's laboratories, a few scientists lead Mitsuru down a hallway. They offer many hurried apologies as they walk. After all, the girl who they're guiding has just lost her father and is in the process of taking control over the company he once ran, yet here they are preparing to push another responsibility onto her. Mitsuru's been given a manila folder full of information on someone with a familiar name—someone who, quite soon, will be hers to manage.
Kaito Nagano. A third year at Gekkoukan, and a longtime Iwatodai resident. Through elementary and middle school he was a hot-blooded but likeable delinquent. The kind of troublemaker who stuck his neck out for other kids and was considered reliable by those who looked past the fact that he was constantly stirring the pot.
That changed by the time he entered high school. The Kaito that Mitsuru is more likely acquainted with is the taciturn and severe Botany Club president who glares at her with some one-sided ire every time they pass each other in the halls. He never goes out of his way to attack her, but his gaze has made it clear that he has some sort of hangup with her. The files she's been asked to flip through while traversing the halls should offer more context.
The Kaito that she and the scientists are approaching is a Persona User—one who had been under Shuji Ikutsuki's "care" for the last three years. Notes on the front page suggest he's just one of Ikutsuki's many experiments; another soldier, another layer of insurance in his plans. Not the first by far, and unfortunately, not the last.
There's much more in his file regarding detailed tests and their results as well as behavioral observations, but one note that was highlighted is the fact that Kaito's family (a brother, parents, and grandfather) have all fallen under Apathy Syndrome and have been cared for by the Kirijo Group since Ikutsuki took him in.
Eventually, the group reaches a door near the end of the hallway, and inside... ]
[ Within a sterile white room that feels more like a cell than a living space, Kaito lays in bed in blue pajamas. His left arm from the elbow down is locked in a cast, and with his right he's reading some kind of book. The only other signs that his room isn't vacant are a rack of uniforms and casual clothes in one corner, his book bag hanging off a post at the end of his bed, and a night stand with a small, slender case propped open on it.
As Mitsuru and the scientists enter, the redhead will likely notice the Evoker sitting polished inside the box. Kaito turns his head towards the scientists as if to greet them, but his lips purse shut the moment he lays eyes on Mitsuru. He slowly kicks his legs off the bed to sit up. ]
The hell is this? Where's Ikutsuki? [ A beat. He squints past the StuCo president. ] ...You're not his cronies. What's going on?
[ The lead scientist among the group clears his throat. ]
[ His voice is a little shaky, as if he's nervous to be speaking directly to the third year. He and the other scientists have had the time to pore over his files, and the trepidation in their eyes hints that they think they're talking to a barely-restrained attack dog rather than a teenager. Kaito bristles at the mention of Mitsuru, and now the whole group's being scrutinized.
After a moment, he slowly asks: ] Then, are the terms and conditions of my indentured servitude changing? Even if I'm going to be working under my enemy, will you still be handling my family's medical expenses?
[ Sharp golds lock to Mitsuru's auburn. His entire body is tense, like he's ready to spring out of his seat and go for her neck—yet his voice remains level as he awaits a reply. ]
indeed they must c:
Kaito Nagano is indeed a name that is familiar to her; a third year like herself, president of Gekkoukan's Botany Club... also someone who has always seemed to have held an abject dislike for her, for no reason that she was able to place. Now though, reading this file, it's becoming all too clear why he's only ever greeted her with an extremely frosty reception at best.
It's no different when Mitsuru enters the boy's room... if one could call said room that. A cell definitely felt more to what it actually is. Every fibre of his being seems to exude one thing when it comes to her: hatred. She's no stranger to being a polarising figure, everything about her; her family's status, her wealth, her influence... let's just say it has never always brought out a positive reaction in people. But this... this is an abject dislike of her in the extreme.
She's careful not to let any kind of disconcerted feelings on this matter show on her face. The scientists seem afraid of him, this boy, another one of that man's experiments... and wasn't it already going to be hard enough to leave that monster's legacy behind? Now, here she is, face to face with yet another remnant of it.
Yes, the others are definitely afraid of him, it's written all over their face, but Mitsuru... no, she isn't afraid of him. Even with the way he looks at her as he addresses them, as if he's barely containing himself from springing upon her. No, all she feels is... remorse, pity even, perhaps? Nagano might have become Ikutsuki's project, but what had become of his family and in turn him... well, the fault of that lies with her family's legacy. There is no escaping that fact, compounded when he uses the term enemy.
One thing is for certain, no matter how much he might hate her, he's not going to be staying here anymore. Her tone is cool as she addresses him, not hostile, just careful not to betray anything that she's feeling right now, in this moment. ]
All of your family's medical expenses will continue to be handled by the Kirijo Group, of that I can assure you.
Additionally, you will no longer be staying here - instead, you'll be accompanying me to the Iwatodai dormitory upon my return. We will make arrangements to have your belongings moved there accordingly.
[ She casts her eyes around the assembled group of scientists, as if daring them to show some kind of objection. They don't. Though some of their expressions might convey mixed feelings on the matter. ]
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I'm not the kicked dog in this room right now, Kirijo. [ He leans ever so slightly towards her while he speaks, but to the already-anxious scientists he may as well have lunged at their throats. As a group, they shuffle back towards the door. Kaito holds himself there, looking like he wants to say more... but the rage seething in his eyes dies down, and he takes a step back. The malice in his voice is gone; in its place, a faint hint of understanding. ]
Save that pity for yourself, for... whatever the hell it is you're grieving for.
[ Make no mistake—the redhead constructed her facade immaculately. There was nothing to read in either her gaze or her level features. Yet this simply confirms more of Ikutsuki's sins. One of the experiments performed on Kaito awakened a preternatural sense of empathy in him, uncannily accurate to the point of being mistaken for mind reading.
Kaito turns and stoops to grab a luggage case from under his bed. He tosses it on the mattress and flips the lid open before glancing over his shoulder. ]
I accept your terms, though I imagine I didn't have much choice in the matter to begin with. It beats being stared at by those cowards like I'm some starving beast.
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please forgive my slowness ;; manic week plus brain dead in random heatwave
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Truthfully, she's disappointed. As president, student well being is a priority, but so is managing club budgets with a sensible and measured approach. She could approve increases with justification. Yet it seems those assembled have been unwilling to really put in a fight for their clubs, to show their commitment.... So when it's the turn of the Botany Club's President, she decides to switch gears.
Kaito Nagano. Nobody here knows the extent of her... relations with her fellow third year, Mitsuru would very like to keep it that way. However, some overruling part of her simply can't resist the urge to engage with him. Her mahogany eyes meet his across the table and while her expression conveys nothing but cold, aloof neutrality, her being itself is conveying something very different to him... ]
This is a proposed budget increase of over 10%, Nagano. How do you justify such a significant jump in expenditure in such a short period?
[ Of course she can't stop herself making these things sound like an actual business meeting between departments...
There's a palpable change in atmosphere in the room at her words to Nagano. None of the other club leaders had been asked to justify their proposals so directly... ]
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At least, that's how Kaito used to feel before joining SEES. Nowadays, with the nightly runs to Tartarus and, uh, other extracurricular activities, the third year has come to appreciate these quiet opportunities to listen to his arch nemesis drone on about budgets in her alluring voice—
Wait, what? What were we talking about???
Oh. Right. Mitsuru's just set her gaze on him, and past the frigid facade of Gekkoukan's icy empress, he sees the spark of something else. Tugging his gloves on tighter, the Botany Club's president stands up, turns his chair around, then plops down to rest his arms and head on the back. ]
If you double check my report, Kirijo, you'll see that the club has gained five more students. That puts us to twenty-nine, which is an approximately twenty-one percent increase in members, and each of those five will need enough supplies to start growing two plants.
[ He waggles a gloved finger, and the student next to him gawps at such a (perceivably) insulting motion towards the redhead. Kaito, however, remains as casual as, uh, something casual. ]
And if you recall, this past summer saw several heat waves that damaged the rooftop planters and their contents. Despite our best efforts to reverse the damage, several of those flowers have died this past month and will need replacing.
Ten percent seems pretty reasonable for this month's needs. That is, unless you want the roof to lose its color through winter?
[ Golds gleam with a challenging shine. The corners of his lips curl in a small smile. If she wants to stir the pot in front of all the other club leaders, he's more than happy to oblige. ]
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When he mentions the increase in club members, she's struck by the staggeringly inappropriate urge to roll her eyes. Although she doesn't, not outwardly anyway because Mitsuru Kirijo would never. Right, the girls. She should have known. Having to allocate a large portion of the school's budget for what is essentially his Fan Club... ]
Of course I don't. I would never seek to deprive the student body of something that increases their well being. That and I know just how hard you and your club members work on those plants and how it's their singular focus...
[ It isn't. They both know it isn't and she's letting him know in no uncertain terms. The plants are just a side project for some of his members, him being the actual focus.
Why does that bother her?]But perhaps if you are to take such a large percentage of the club budget then you might see fit to invest in some sturdier specimens this time around.
[ Unlikely that he could have avoided it anyway, a palm tree might have wilted in those heat waves but nobody said she was being reasonable here. ]
my many condolences
His was blurs and blanks, overwhelming muk in murky waves and apathy that pushed it forward. Moments of reprieve that feel like he's stuck in a madman's dream and crashes of reality that remind him it can't be the case.
So he can't really connect the dots between point a and b, when there's never been a clear place to put down those roots, and figure out when things started to work. Can't peg the moment clarity that became the norm or figure out how in the series of rushed meetings, clipped conversations, fights and shared goals that made things end up-
With Akechi laying on his on the living room floor of their shared unit, face propped up with one arm and the other watching an unsubtitled tutorial in a rapidly spoken language he can't place. The clip is shaky, cloudy, and at a resolution that feels suited for the early 2000s, not whatever year this is.
He's turning this situation into something more manageable though - making a metaphorical mental hitlist. The 'build your own' furniture site that he's assured is closer to black market than retail and the salesperson there who gave him a look before saying he should hire out the installer at the top. Akira makes a surprise appearance because why not. Number three this time though - that's progress.
A finger presses against the rewind button again to try and glean out the bullshit on this darkened screen.
The mess around him is organized. Somewhat. Different panels strewn on the floor in varying sizes, nails and bolts organized neatly on a coffee table behind him, and the inky mess of an instruction booklet that met its fate during a well timed downpour.]
Perhaps it's too much to ask that the internet provide something useful. [Rewind. Brighten. Playback speed 0.5.] It seems it's only good for manipulating the public and getting engagement on food blogs. What a shame.
[Which is a super normal reaction to have when trying to put a bookcase together from a shady market dealer. Very normal. He's doing great.]
:>
As it turns out, sometimes her judgement could actually be way off.
She's been pretending not to observe him too closely each time she passes through the living room - on this occasion on her way to the kitchen to make tea. Occasionally she glances towards where he's camped out on the living room floor. How many times has he hit that rewind button now?
Mon dieu.
Enough is enough apparently. ]
You know, I can simply ask Kikuno to purchase an already assembled bookcase for us?
[ Her ever faithful and super organised maid takes care of everything else after all. Herein follows a short pause. ]
... It's still not too late for me to do that.
[ She's sure she can arrange to have the half-assembled mess returned easily enough. Few people say no to a Kirijo after all. ]
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[The answer is immediate and he doesn't entertain the suggestion in the slightest. He started this. Began the day with one singular goal in mind and will not end, will not relent, will not sleep until this bookcase is put together. It's a rectangle made of wood slabs and nails. It's not rocket science.]
I used to be a detective. Do you truly have no faith in my ability to figure out how to stick a few slabs of wood together?
[Said as he's splayed around those wooden slabs and a collection of tools that have gone untouched since his decision to violently replay this video. He chooses not to look at the evidence around him.]
Returning or replacing this piece is simply out of the question.
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for @marakunda
The Promised Day.
Turns out hearing that this might be your last month ever on this mortal plane really does bring its own entirely unique frantic mix of emotions, nearly all of which seem impossible to describe or parse right now. There was fear certainly - Mochizuki had given them all of the information he could, yet the coming of Nyx still remains a terrifying and unknown prospect. How could it not be?
Then there was the determination they all shared, the belief that they could defeat her. That this wouldn't be the end.
But what if it is? Mitsuru had always been a pragmatist, Mochizuki had made the odds of their success plain to all who had been assembled that night. He had said it was impossible for them to win and he meant it. That means that a part of the Kirijo heiress has to accept her own mortality, accept the possibility that there is a very real chance that none of them would be coming back from this.
Everyone had already gone to bed following Arisato's decision but that doesn't mean that the redhead had been able to find any kind of slumber since she had retired to her room. She hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to Akihiko alone since the verdict had been delivered. They had shared so much, it didn't seem right that they didn't talk this over between them privately before they really did try and sleep.
Who knows though? Maybe Akihiko really was as confident as ever and had just gone to sleep without a single iota of doubt in his head. Still, Mitsuru is going to take the chance that he might still be awake and knock very lightly on his door. She doesn't want any of the other boys overhearing after all. She's not entirely sure why but the need for this to be private suddenly seems paramount... ]
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Arisato had made the right choice; Akihiko knows he would rather take the chance and, if it happened, go down fighting until his last breath. As for the others, it's difficult to know what they're thinking. Each of them had their own way of coping with things and Akihiko can't claim he's fully coherent with the potential End of Days looming. He even burned rice that evening, distracted by thoughts of battles and strategies to pay much heed to stirring the food.
Akihiko huffs quietly at his ceiling, staring at it as if that part of his room will suddenly unveil all the answers if looked at hard enough. Sleep is eluding him and eventually he rolls over, giving his pillow a firm punch as if the action itself would bring a few hours of rest. Being tired won't help reflex times and Akihiko finds himself staring at the wall instead. Dammit.)
Hm? (The small knock at his door isn't missed and he welcomes the distraction, getting out of bed to crack the door open a few inches. There's no surprise to see Mitsuru standing there and Akihiko steps back, opening the door to allow the redhead to step inside.) Something wrong?
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[ Where does she even begin to describe how many things are wrong right now? Akihiko could be dense when it comes to certain things, hardheaded certainly but she's sure in this case that there are no prizes for guessing what is keeping her sleepless tonight.
She doesn't come into his room all that often, they usually keep their mingling to the more communal areas, but never the less the familiar sights in his room are oddly comforting. His many boxing trophies, his protein powder tubs and the ever present workout equipment that she had told him time and time again not to have in his room lest the floor give out- it's all so very him. They had been ever present in each other's lives since junior high now, it's too hard to comprehend that everything they'd known, everything they had been fighting together to achieve up until now might be all for naught.
But she can't let herself think that way. ]
I am sorry for disturbing you so late, Akihiko. I just couldn't sleep... and I figured you might be awake too.
[ She pauses, that usual calm, aloof demeanor of hers fading away a little just for a moment as she looks at him. ]
...Would it perhaps be alright if I stayed for just a little while? Unless of course you were about to fall asleep, in which case I will take my leave now.
[ How does she even begin to admit that she doesn't want to be alone right now? That of all the people she knows he is one of those she trusts the most and right now, after receiving the worst blow since her father had died, she just wants to be in the boxer's company a while... ]
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He is still her teacher, after all, and she is still his student.
But their attraction to each other runs deep, carnal, potent. It's hard to be alone together without gravitating into each other's orbit. He knows that she'll likely tire of him some day and move on to live her life, probably when she attends college and meets more people her age. Yet, he will savor what he has with her in the time that he has it. He will make sure that neither of them grow tired of each other while they are together. That he pleases her, as best as he can.
Which is why, right now, he is buried between her legs. She is laying sprawled out on the bed, legs splayed while he lays flat between them, her legs hooked over his shoulders while he devours her pussy. One hand works to part her folds, his thumb rubbing at her clit while his tongue buries itself in her entrance and licks at her inner walls. Eager and hungry, he continues to eat her out with gusto. He has no intention to stop anytime soon, wanting to make her come as many times as possible like this.
It's Saturday — school is over for the week and they don't have to return to their duties until Monday morning. So, they escaped for their hideaway at the hotel and it wasn't long until they were touching. Touching turned to kissing. Kissing turned to grinding. And then the grinding spilled into bed, clothes being torn off while he settled between her legs to get to work.
He wonders, briefly, if she'd be open to spending their whole weekend here like this, tangled together, falling from one orgasm to the next. ]
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It's like the most exquisite kind of torture that Nanami is putting her through, each moment more intense than the last. At first, the first time he'd done this, she'd been hesitant to grab a fistful of her teacher's hair, clinging to some remnants of propriety and respect despite what he'd been doing to her. Now though, Mitsuru shows no such hesitance in tangling her fingers in the blonde strands, elegant, slender fingers caressing his scalp, using him as anchor while he completely undoes her.
Her other hand clings to the sheets beneath her, knuckles turning white with the effort, her thighs twitching with each delicious stroke of his tongue against where she's most sensitive. He is so, so good at this. Would someone her own age even be able to approach his level of skill at completely unraveling her? Doubtful. ]
You're... You're going to make me come-
[ Again. This one feels big though- that warmth building in her lower body, thighs still twitching uncontrollably. She arches off the bed as the sensations grow, suddenly extremely conscious that he might be about to draw a particularly wet orgasm out of her- he'd made her squirt before, but not like this, not with his mouth down there... It makes her nervous, what if he hates it and- ]
I think- I think I'm going to- [ Her eyes widen as she looks down at him and oh god, please get what she's trying to say. She cuts herself off as she cries out, the backs of her legs digging into his shoulders, trying to hold back but already knowing it's a battle she isn't going to win. ]
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This too is memorable. The way she cries her warning, you're going to make me come, as if that isn't exactly what he wants. He can feel the way her fingers clutch at his hair, the desperate hold she has on him. He continues to work his mouth over her though but he can tell her desperation to get him to pull away. It doesn't take much for him to figure out why. She's going to squirt, probably, too embarrassed about it to do it with his mouth against her.
Does he mind though? No. His eyes flicker up to meet hers, to watch her face and then she is crying out as she digs into his shoulders and clenches around him. He growls, low, and mouths at her even deeper. His tongue drags along her folds, gets to her entrance and opens wide so when she finally comes, all of it goes straight into his mouth. It's... probably disgusting. Definitely disgusting. But he doesn't mind at all, not as he swallows down her release and licks her out aggressively in turn.
This is when he should stop, should pause, should give her some relief. He doesn't though. Instead, he slides two fingers into her entrance, fucking her with them gently as he rubs calloused fingers against her inner walls. At the same time, his tongue circles her clit, sucking and nipping lightly on the sensitive bud as he breathes out heavily and continues his ministrations. ]
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a million years later.......
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Continuation of their first thread! Can be PSL or GP continuity, up to you.
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There's something about the way Mitsuru's eyes are, sharp and full of a subtle strength, like those of authority. Add the incessant need in her showing through that window, and it's a mesmerizing sight. It made Troy throb against her touch, with her hand caressing the girth of his shaft and the heat of their skin join upon this salacious contact. ]
Mmmm... You like it, huh?
[ He asks in a low rumbly voice as he moves his hips back, letting her keep her grasp on his cock but also letting the underside of him brush against her. The base of his cock pressing down against her mound, brushing against the top of her folds. ]
Then I'm putting it in, and look only to me while I do it, okay?
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That was his thought, even when she came in for the first time and they discussed pain points and things she wanted to improve. Even as they came up with an action plan for her to work on and set up recurring appointments to boot. Even when her schedule became so busy that it made it difficult for her to come in and he offered to do house calls instead.
The house calls were maybe not the best idea though because he found the more time they spent alone, the more this — this tension was developing between them. Of course he was attracted to her. It's Mitsuru Kirijo, one of the most beautiful people in all of Japan. And he made her laugh. It was just the once, while they were talking and he was massaging her down after a session but he said something — he doesn't even remember what — and she laughed. It stunned him to silence and he remembers being so flushed and happy in response.
So, as their sessions continued and so did that tension. Lingering touches, glances, small smiles, it was all just too much to take. And he was spending more and more of his evenings at Mitsuru's home to meet her for their sessions. She had a whole set up for him, with supplies and everything. And then after, a massage table for him to work her body loose again afterwards. Tonight, he as here again, Mitsuru laid out in front of him with nothing but a towel. And in his hands, a small bottle of oil he brought with him for the massage. He thought, if he was going to massage her anyway he might as well do it properly, so he explained — ]
It's a warmin' oil. Should really help ya to relax a bit and let your muscles loosen up. Just let me know if it's too much.
[ And with that, he spilled some onto his palms and got to work. For now, he started at her shoulders, skilled hands massaging into the meat of her body and helping the muscles relax. ]
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Except, he is definitely... cute. That's the word one of her friends might use to describe him, right? Cute, sweet, with something of a puppy about him when it comes to wanting to please her. Mitsuru might be aloof but you'd have to have a shard of ice in place of a heart not to be endeared by him. He also has an athletic build - she might have gotten it out of him that he used to be an athlete once upon a time, clearly he'd done his best to keep up that physique.
Anyway, none of that is what she should be focusing on right now - yet, what else is there to focus on once his hands are on her like this? ]
I will, although I'm sure it won't be.
[ He's always perfect with his hands, always knowing just the right amount of pressure to apply, causing her to melt into such a purely relaxed state beneath him on the table. Tonight seems like it will be no different. She can already feel the knots in her shoulders built up through the stress of the day beginning to loosen and she can't help but let out a soft sigh. ]
You are always so good at this.
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You make it easy to be, Kirijo-san. You're always good to work with.
[ She's thoughtful and considerate in their sessions. Knows how far her body can move and even willing to press past that sometimes for the sake of being her best self. She's his best client, by and large, and he doesn't think that just because he's attracted to her. Just because there's this... tension between them.
It makes him wonder though, if he'd do anything about this tension. Of course, right now he thinks about it too, with her naked in nothing but a towel in front of him. It would be so easy to run his hands over her body and...
Oh, don't think that, Ryuji. You'll get distracted.
He's on her back now, massaging into her sides with strong, firm hands. He can't help but envision what it'd be like to wrap them around her body, to knead at her breasts instead. But he shakes the thought from his head immediately, focusing instead on where he's allowed to touch.
Ah... maybe he should put on some music. Or talk? He doesn't know. Right now, there's only the sound of their breathing in the quiet of the room. ]
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help me revoicetest........... also mistletoe??? obvs???
in Tartarusat a Kirijo family Christmas gala for some god damn reason. He just knows he's there, as Mitsuru's date, though it's not really a date and just him being present because she needed a male suitor to be with her and he was the innocent bystander she decided to choose. He'd rather be doing anything else, but he's on Christmas break from university and he doesn't really want to spend the day with his parents.So, Kirijo gala. Mitsuru. Letting her dress him up in a suit and that being the end of it. He sighs as he stands near the refreshment table, swishing the eggnog in his glass around a few times before taking a sip and wondering where Mitsuru went. They got split up pretty early on as she had some business people to talk to and he figured she'd find him again later but later has become now and now has been a while.
Which means he supposes now's as good a time as any to go look for her? He starts wandering the party, looking for that familiar head of red hair and even slipping out into the hallway to see if she's in another room. It's during this that he gets stopped by some woman. She looks like a model, but he doesn't really think much of it because it's not like he knows her. She just seems like another annoying woman who wants to bother him.
Hey, cutie. (Hmm. Him, cute?) Do you know what you're standing under right now?
At this, he blinks at her and looks up, spotting the sprig of mistletoe that she's trapped him under. His eyebrows furrow and he doesn't seem very happy when he looks back at the woman, giving a shake of his head. ]
I have a date.
[ Oh, but she's not here right now, is she? Come on, one little kiss and I'll let you go~ ♥ ]
I...
[ Help. Where's Mitsuru when you need her? ]
UM YES??? also killing me with the icon choice
Still, she's managed to get away for a little while and intends to track him down to at least check in- and finds him in a situation she totally should have predicted. She has no idea who opted to put mistletoe up there but she suddenly finds herself more than a little annoyed at whoever did... a little too much wine maybe? Although she hadn't had much, she prefers to keep a clear head at these events after all.
The redhead shows zero hesitance in announcing herself as she approaches the pair, especially once she overhears their conversation. And here was she thinking he might have escaped this kind of thing since they left high school. Of course not. ]
I am the “date,” and I believe he is attempting to convey — albeit indirectly —that he is not interested.
[ Perhaps it's her cold, lofty tone, the way the space around them seems to drop quite a few degrees in temperature or the fact that it's Mitsuru Kirijo addressing her but suddenly the other woman doesn't seem in such a hurry to get cosy. In fact she's in more of a hurry to get away, albeit with something of a disappointed pout thrown in the direction of her quarry...
Mitsuru sighs once she's gone. ]
Apologies for being absent so long. I didn't think you'd get hassle like that here.
[ Although, objectively speaking, why wouldn't he? He's perhaps her oldest friend but it's not as though she can't see that he's good looking. Objectively speaking. ]
😇
It's alright. Needed something interesting to happen anyway.
[ Because he's been bored out of his mind and seeing Mitsuru scare off an unwanted flirt is a lot more entertaining than anything else. ]
Are you still working or are you back to the party?
[ Just curiously asking, though he doesn't seem to realize that they're still standing under the mistletoe. Together. ]
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