Work Text:
Being at Iwatodai is as boring as Minato thought it would be. He thinks he's glad for it.
Jumping from place to place his entire life has been a nightmare. Being able to settle here - in a place where he dorms with his friends, where he can see the ocean from the train every morning on the way to school - has been exactly what he needed.
He doesn't even remember how it happens. All he knows is he was friends with Junpei, and then Yukari, and now he's actually able to feel something.
It's what he's needed, but it's everything else, too.
He loves his friends, and they've helped him a lot. He wouldn't give them up for anything.
But there is something else: a lingering feeling.
Minato can't put his finger on it.
He's been anticipating something for a while.
As the calendar changes from January to February, he finds himself flicking forward and circling graduation day. He doesn't know why.
Minato passes Kirijo-Senpai in the hallway and something makes him look back. As he stops and turns, she does too. Their eyes lock for the briefest of moments, and Minato sees- something. A brief flash. A gun holstered to her leg, a sword in her hand.
It's gone as soon as it was there, and he forces himself to catch up with Junpei before she can think to question him.
"Did you know him?" One of his classmates ask. Minato doesn't remember his name - he's one of Junpei's friends. "Aragaki-Senpai. He lived in your dorm, didn't he?"
Minato's eyebrows furrow. "I don't know." If Aragaki ever lived in his dorm, he never saw him around.
He thinks about Aragaki-Senpai - about the assembly held for him at school, about the expression Sanada-Senpai had on around the dorm for a while, how even Kirijo-Senpai had walked on eggshells around him for a while.
"I never met him," Minato says honestly, and feels regret ache in his chest.
Minato has been getting sick.
Sick isn't the right word.
He's been sleeping for too long. His circadian rhythm is all off.
It increases slowly. He goes from an eight hour night to an eight and a half one. To nine hours. To nine and a half. Ten. Ten and a half.
By the time his calendar says February 15th, he's sleeping for twelve hours a day.
It's not healthy. He doesn't know what to do.
Everyday, Minato forces himself out of bed. It's getting harder and harder.
He mentions it, absentmindedly, to Junpei, and then to Yukari. They can't make sense of it either. A trip to the nurse's office reveals nothing wrong with him. All she can do is recommend a stricter schedule.
Minato goes to sleep at half past seven in the evening every night. And he forces himself out of bed at half past seven every morning.
No matter how hard he tries, he can't fix this.
He catches Junpei staring wistfully after Akihiko-Senpai. He watches Yukari's gaze follow Kirijo-Senpai in the hallway. His own eyes are drawn to one of the underclass girls; he doesn't even know her name.
A blonde girl in his class follows after them, sometimes. Minato knows she's a transfer student who joined not long after he did. He doesn't know anything about her.
He sleeps, and in his dreams the girl with the blonde hair tells him she will always protect him. He doesn't know why.
He sleeps, and in his dreams a boy with a yellow scarf tells him the time is readily approaching. He doesn't know what for.
Minato wakes from both of those dreams with tears in his eyes, and spends those days in bed.
Minato is yearning. There is an ache in his heart, but he doesn't know what for.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he watches with baited breath as the clock ticks to midnight. He doesn't know what he's waiting for.
The clock ticks on, and Minato's heart sinks. He doesn't understand it.
There is a piece of him missing; he doesn't know what.
There is a part of him that yearns; he doesn't know why.
There is a tugging at his soul; he doesn't know what for.
He resists it, afraid to find out what it means. He is terrified of giving in to the insistent feeling. Minato doesn't think he would ever be able to pull free from it if he did.
Minato flicks his calendar to March. He stays in bed the entire day.
He falls asleep in class.
Minato's teacher is worried.
"The nurse told me about your condition," she tells him when she's kept him back after lessons. "Is this going to be a problem?"
"Not for much longer," he assures her.
She's satisfied with that answer and sends him on his way, but Minato isn't. He doesn't know what that means.
Something is coming. He feels uneasy.
There is an end approaching.
Minato gets out of bed on March 3rd and almost falls back down.
His legs are shaking. His breathing doesn't want to work. His eyes want to close.
He knows there isn't long left.
There isn't long left until what?
He doesn't know.
The third years graduate on March 5th.
The anticipation has been building up and up all this time; it's finally here. Minato still doesn't know what it is. He doesn't know if he's scared - he thinks he just wants it to be over: the long nights, the wistful feeling, the tugging.
On March 5th, Minato walks into the school gates with Junpei and Yukari. He looks up absentmindedly, eyes catching onto a fluttering of colour.
There are cherry blossoms in the wind.
His eyes follow their movements without his meaning to. He watches as they twist and dance in the sky.
Behind one of the blossom trees, there is the blonde transfer student. Their eyes lock, and he knows.
He remembers a promise made on a roof, months ago.
He remembers more. He remembers Shinjiro, and Ryoji, and Nyx. He remembers everything.
Minato understands, now.
His legs almost give out as he climbs the stairs to the roof. The gradual weakness makes sense, now. The tugging is stronger, all consuming, and he stops fighting it.
All he has to do is get to the roof.
He doesn't know if everyone will be there. Aigis will be, at least - he tells himself he'll have to be content with just that. He finds that he is.
The door at the top is already open. The sky is clear, and sunlight streams through Aigis' hair, making it almost glow. There is a gentle breeze. While it tugs at Aigis' uniform, it feels as though it could pull him over.
She turns to see him, and a smile spreads across her face. Something settles within him at the sight of it. He would do what he did all over again if it meant she would continue to smile like this. If it meant everyone and the world they live in would be able to continue existing.
They helped him to live again after ten long years of numbing loneliness. It makes sense that he would give it all up to keep them safe.
"We met again," Aigis says, and Minato feels at peace.
Minato's head in is Aigis' lap. They've been like this since he fell crossing the roof, and she'd ran to meet him.
He doesn't want to go; he knows that he has to.
Absentmindedly, he wonders how the graduation ceremony is going. He knows Mitsuru is going to give a speech. A part of him hopes they'll remember, but it would be cruel to force these memories upon them just in time for them to loose him.
It was easy, for Minato. His body has been failing him for weeks, and it's been getting harder and harder to resist the seal tugging at him. Remembering felt like slotting the final pieces of a puzzle together. It felt like a resolution.
He wonders if this is how Ryoji felt, when he went from living a normal human life to realising he was the Appraiser. He must've known something was odd when he kept waking up in the Midnight Hour, the same way Minato knew something was wrong by the tugging, and the longing, and the aching, and the sleeping.
"You must be exhausted," Aigis comments. She hasn't stopped running her fingers through his hair, and he's grateful for it.
"You should rest." Her other hand finds his where they're resting on his chest, barely rising and falling with his breathing.
"I will protect you," Aigis says, and she leans over him, blocking the sun from his eyes. He studies her face, trying to memorise it - he isn't sure if he'll ever be able to see it again.
"The others will be here soon." Minato's eyes slide closed, and he knows Aigis is right. He can hear them on the stairs.
"Minato!" Junpei yells, and he smiles. He breathes in, giving in to the tugging. He lets go, and the gate beckons. On his exhale, it takes him. He has no lingering regrets as his friends reach the rooftop. They rush towards his prone form, and he is whisked away before they can collide.