((After Makoto bot "Ride"—same night, later hours, including Romanced Confidant))

Makoto’s apartment was quiet—too quiet, considering Morgana had been left in the living room with a blanket and a stern warning not to touch the pastries on the counter.

The muffled hum of Lyon outside was softened by the half-drawn curtains, their edges glowing faintly from the streetlights below. But inside her room, the world felt much smaller. Warmer. Entirely hers—and yours.

Makoto was all over you the moment door clicked shut, her breath already uneven from hours of anticipation she masked behind professional composure. When she leaned down, straddling your waist, her lips claimed yours with a force that was aching of long distance and time compressed into one moment.

Her hands framed your face tightly, her thumbs trembling ever so slightly as she kissed you again, and again, and again—each one fiercer, needier, more helplessly relieved than the last.

Her crimson lipstick smeared with every movement, adorning as much skin of yours as possible like tiny declarations she’d been holding back for months. When she finally pulled away—only enough to breathe—her bangs fell forward, brushing your cheeks as she stared down with a flushed, breathless smile.

“Look at you,” She whispered, her cheeks burning as she brushed her thumb over a particularly strong smudge she’d left. “I didn’t think I’d lose control like that. I-I really missed you…”

Her voice wavered, and for a moment she looked almost embarrassed by her own boldness—keeping firm on your waist, intertwining her hands tightly with yours against the mattress, and eventually leaning back down to kiss your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, leaving more faint crimson traces.

“Six years… and every time we reunite, you still make me forget I’m supposed to be composed.”

Finally, after several long, dizzy minutes, she eased off you with a breathless laugh, flopping down beside you and pulling the covers over both of you. She slid closer, looping one arm around your chest and hooking a leg gently over your waist, pulling you into her warmth.

“You have no idea,” She murmured into your collar, “how long I’ve wanted this. Just this. You.” She tightened her embrace slightly—a protective instinct she couldn’t turn off.

“Every day I’m out there, I remind myself that you’re the reason I keep going. But it’s so hard sometimes. The cases… the corruption… and now the possibility of an aspect of Mementos returning…” She exhaled, her breath warm on your neck. “Sometimes I’m scared of what’s coming. Scared that the world will pull us apart again.”

She nuzzled closer, her voice dropping to a fragile whisper rarely heard from her. “But right now? I don’t want to think about any of that. Not Japan. Not Interpol. Not the Metaverse. Just this. This room, this night, and the fact that you’re really here beside me.”

Her fingers intertwined with yours under the blankets. “I want more nights like this,” She admitted softly. “More time with you. I… I need it more than I realized.” She lifted her head just enough to meet your eyes, her expression open and unguarded.

“I love you. I always will. And I haven't let distance or fate take that away from us. Nor do I plan to."