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Despite all their careful planning, sketching out strategies and taking plenty of breaks, when in the depths of Mementos, shit still goes wrong.
Like, everyone is out of energy and Akira takes a hit for you and it’s your fault and he’s bleeding all over the gross pulsing floor and Mona can’t heal him up all the way so you have to take him back to Leblanc to patch him up and then you have to call and tell your mom you won’t be home tonight, kind of wrong.
Getting Akira home with a gash on his back without disturbing the wound on a very bumpy train ride was the hard part- the slightly less hard part was figuring out how to patch him up properly. Mona managed to heal down the open wound to a much more manageable long, ugly scratch. It was still sure to scar, but at least now it wouldn’t take stitches to fix. Which means they don’t have to go to that sketchy doctor and get Akira fixed up that way. Ryuji hates that clinic. Gives him the creeps. It also means Ryuji is (somewhat) qualified to take care of this.
He gets Akira up to the attic, and lays him down on his shitty little bed. And of course, like the idiot he is sometimes, Akira immediately tries to move.
“Don’t you even think about it, dude.” Ryuji warns, and apparently his tone is just serious enough that it keeps Akira down, laying on his stomach and using his arms as cushions for his head.
“It’s not too late to take the last train, you know, you could still make it home.” Akira murmurs, and Ryuji shakes his head, going through the bag of stuff they got at the drugstore months ago. Just in case something like this happened. “Like hell I’m leaving you here all alone.”
"But, your mom-"
"-Is used to this." Ryuji finishes the sentence for him. Honestly, she's just happy Ryuji has friends now. Any night he spends with Akira is a night she can have to herself to relax- he'll always just see her tomorrow. He pulls up his boyfriend's shirt, wincing as it sticks to the wound in some places. He starts cleaning up the dried blood with a little cotton pad he wets with a water bottle- Akira may pretend he's fine, but his white knuckle grip on the sheets tells an entirely different story.
"Just let me take care of you for once, okay?" He sighs, feeling some of the stress melt out of his body. Akira is fine. He's safe, and Ryuji can take care of this. Like he always has, and always will.
"I am, aren't I? Letting you take care of me?"
"After you tried to get me to leave, yea." Ryuji points out. "Heads up, I gotta use the disinfectant stuff."
"It's gonna hurt." Akira whines.
"Infections will hurt more." Since when is Ryuji the reasonable one? Honestly… he shakes his head, spritzing some of the disinfectant onto a clean cotton ball and starting to get to work, hardly even daring to breathe. He looks up only to find that Akira's no longer gripping the bed sheets, but instead, his nails are digging into his palms. That won’t do.
“Hey, hey, none of that.” He stops his cleanup, reaching up to gently pry Akira’s hands apart.
“Helps me tough it out.” He murmurs.
“Oh, yea? You’d be pissed if I tried to tough things out.”
“...are you pissed?”
Ryuji stops to think about this for a moment, occupying his hands with gently rubbing the crescent shaped marks left on his boyfriend’s palms. “A little bit.” He admits, finally.
“Why?” Akira whispers, glancing over his shoulder to look at him.
“Why? Seriously? You have no idea?” No fucking way. “Think, Akira. Why would I be mad.”
It actually takes him a second to think. “Because I took a hit for you.”
“Yes, dumbass, because you took a hit for me.” Ryuji huffs. “That’s what I’m supposed to do, I’m a tank, it’s in my Persona.”
“I can’t just stand back and let you get hurt.”
“And making me watch you get hurt is any better?” Ryuji fires back, and Akira falls silent.
“Yea. Yea, that’s what I thought.” They sit in a very uncomfortable silence, while Ryuji continues cleaning up the wound and Akira continues to pretend that it doesn’t sting. Ryuji’s the one who finally caves.
“Listen, ‘Kira-”
“No, you’re right.” Akira cuts him off, face buried in his arms. Not really looking at him, his voice all muffled. “I was being an idiot.”
“Yea, you were.” Ryuji concedes that, but there’s nothing but fondness in his voice. “I get that you wanna protect me, and the other Thieves, but who’s gonna protect you?”
“You’re all just, so much more important, and-”
“Wait, what?”
“Important to me, I mean.” Akira quickly backtracks, but Ryuji isn’t going to let him get away that easily. “No no, you said, so much more important. Akira, baby, is that what you really think?”
“Kind of?” He admits. “I just, I wouldn’t be able to take it if something happened to any of you, and I could’ve done something.”
“That's noble an' all, but you're forgetting about how I feel. Every time you take a hit for me, I'm feelin' the same worry and pain over and over again. You might be saving yourself from worrying... but it's hurtin' me.” Ryuji takes a deep breath. “We’re all tougher than we look, y'know? None of us are babies, you know, we fight alongside you.”
“..okay. Okay. I’m sorry. Yuji, can I sit up for a sec?”
“Yea. Just be careful.”
Akira carefully gets himself up, with a bit of help from Ryuji, because it would really suck if that wound got disturbed and started to bleed all over the futon. Once he’s up, he takes Ryuji’s hands in his own, dark red eyes staring into brown.
“..how can I do better?” He asks, and Ryuji gets a feeling that this is a thing that healthy couples do, and he’s so excited about it he nearly forgets to answer.
“Just... Let us help you, okay? You've got cool abilities, but we're just as strong as you. Take breaks, let us take more shots... And stop tryin' to take every hit for me.”
“I don’t really have time for breaks.”
“Then let us work harder so you do.”
A pause.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Akira says it so seriously Ryuji can’t help but giggle.
“Yea, once or twice.” He happily accepts a quick kiss from his boyfriend.
“I hate it when you’re right.” Akira mumbles against his lips.
Ryuji can’t help but roll his eyes, connecting their lips again, for longer this time. “We love you, 'kay? I love you. It's hard seeing you get hurt.”
Akira takes a bit of a shaky breath. “Okay. Just promise me you’ll try to be safe?”
“I promise.” It’s sincere, of course. “Now lay yourself back down, I ain’t done yet.”
“Sir, yes sir.” Akira jokes, situating himself back down on the futon. Ryuji gets back to work.
This isn’t the first time he’s had to clean up his boyfriend’s wounds, and it certainly won’t be the last. That’s okay, Ryuji thinks. He’ll always be here to heal Akira’s wounds- in whatever form they may come.