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I've been very, very slowly working my way through watching a playthrough of P5. I'm loving the game's aesthetic and soundtrack.

To you, Hikari Renge, who forced me into this fandom. Now we're stuck here together.

Disclaimer: I don't own Persona 5. Not even a copy of it. One day...
You were still studying.

Akira knows he should probably leave you be. Exams were fast approaching, and he knew how much you valued your grades. While Akira didn’t consider himself to be any sort of slouch when it came to studying, people like you and Makoto put his efforts to shame. The results tended to be worth it, if the way you radiated pride when you got your scores back was anything to go by. Still, you usually wound up burning yourself out so thoroughly by the end of the week, Akira was barely able to have a coherent conversation with you.

This time, Akira was going to make sure that wasn’t going to happen.

He’d admit, albeit reluctantly, that maybe he was feeling a little neglected. And, perhaps, that played into his plans to distract you from your studying. Those nitty-gritty details still didn’t take away from the fact that he was a perfectly well-intentioned boyfriend. The course of his moral compass now assured, Akira lets himself observe a few more minutes of your furious note taking before putting his plan into action.

The metaverse had its uses. Aside from the obvious perk of being able to enact justice on the unjust, all that phantom thief training had made Akira a significantly more stealthy individual than he would have ever been otherwise. His silent approach is further assisted by your complete and utter focus on your studies. Akira can’t deny that it’s cute when you focus so intensely, with your brow furrowed and your nose wrinkled the way it is. However, you’re much cuter when you’re looking at him, and not some notebook.

With that thought in mind, Akira reaches around you and snatches up your notebook with deft fingers. You let out an indignant squawk as you whirl around to face the thief, but Akira has already danced back a few paces and well out of your reach. The incredulous--if slightly insulted--look on your face is a sight to behold. Akira will make sure to treasure it. By the time you’re scrambling onto your feet, Akira has already tossed your notebook onto the very highest reaches of his bookshelf and well out of your reach.

“Wh-wha...hey! I need that!” you stammer, rapidly advancing on your boyfriend. Akira looks down at you, his hands tucked comfortably in his pockets and his posture slack as he rocks back and forth on his heels. He’s the picture of calm in the face of your irritation. You place your hands on your hips and give a huff that disturbs your bangs. When the display doesn’t garner much of a response, you hold out a hand and demand, “Give it back.”

Akira shakes his head and smiles.


You blink up at him, obviously stunned by this bizarre turn of events. Akira had his playful moments, but he usually preferred being more subdued outside of his business with the Phantom Thieves. Akira has allowed you to see most sides of his character by this point, but his teasing never fails to fluster you no matter how many times he does it. You stare up at him for a few more moments, as if assessing him, before finally heaving a sigh and letting your chin fall to your chest. Akira notes that your shoulders go lax for the first time he’s seen all week, and he’ll take that victory, even if it comes at the cost of you sending him a dubious glare through your lashes.

“All right, all right. I give. What do you want?” you ask. You may sound exasperated, though the twitch threatening to pull your lips into a smile gives you away.

Akira leans down so that his face is level with yours. You meet his gaze with your own, and don’t shy away from the fact that he’s entirely within your space. He supposes you must be used to it. Akira made a point of being in your space quite often (and you, in his).

“I’m holding your notebook ransom. The price…” Akira trails off, and lets the moment sink in. You let out a snort, and reach up to gently shove against his shoulder with the meat of your palm. Finally, he continues, “The price: an indeterminate amount of kisses. Fail to meet my demands, and you’ll never see your notebook again.”

Your reaction takes a moment, but it’s well-worth the wait. With a dramatic gasp, you fling the back of one hand over your eyes and lean all your weight into Akira’s chest. He catches you, his arms sliding around your middle, and he watches with a widening grin as you peek up at him through your fingers.

“You fiend! I suppose I have no choice but to accept your terms…”

Akira shakes his head, leans down, and presses a kiss into your palm.

“Pay up,” he demands.

You do.

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