Ayane's smile faltered. She stopped walking, her boots scuffing against the concrete of the road. "The wrong reasons? Makoto, I'm just trying to help you. I spent an hour on the train just to bring you snacks, because I knew you didn't eat breakfast properly."
"I didn't ask you to wear these! I just want a normal lunch!" Makoto's voice echoed in the large space. "I'm trying to handle this, Ayane! I'm trying to be the provider you all want me to be! And I can't do that if you're treating my workplace like your playground!"
Ayane's expression shifted, her playful persona vanished, replaced by raw hurt. She clutched the bent-up folder, which he now realized was actually full of his favorite manga, to her chest.
"The provider we want you to be?" Ayane whispered. "Is that what you think this is? We don't want a walking ATM, Makoto. We want you! But you've been so obsessed with being the man that you've turned into a complete jerk. You yelled at Yuna, you ignored Mafuyu, and now you're shouting at me in a parking lot because I cared enough to visit."
"I'm just trying to make sure we survive!" Makoto yelled back, his own guilt fueling his anger. "I'm the one who has to face those guys every day! I'm the one who has to pretend everything is normal!"
"Nothing about our life is normal! And that was the point!" Ayane shouted, stepping into his space. She poked him in the chest. "We chose this because it was us! If you want a normal life with a normal salaryman schedule, then go find a normal girl! But don't you dare come home and take your stress out on the people who love your abnormal self!"
"Kiss me, now," she commanded. "Fix my mood." It was reckless and stupid, but it was exactly what he needed.
Makato kissed her. It was a rough, desperate kiss, fueled by frustration and relief. Ayane tasted of mint gum and sweat. Her skin was warm against his hands as he gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him.
"Mmm," she hummed into his mouth, grinding her hip against his crotch. "That's better. You were wound up tighter than a spring."
"You're going to get me fired, Ayane," he gasped, breaking the kiss to breathe.
"I'm going to get you relaxed," she said, opening her coat and leaning down, reaching for his belt.
"HEY! YOU! What are you doing?!" The voice came from the street entrance. A security guard in a blue uniform was staring at them, his eyes wide with shock.
Ayane and Makoto froze.
"Flashers!" the guard yelled into his radio. "We got a couple of perverts in the alley!"
"Run!" Ayane shrieked. She wrapped her coat around herself, but failing to button it in time, and sprinted down the alley toward the back exit.
Makoto didn't have time to think. He just ran and followed her, his heart pounding in his throat. They burst out onto a side street, dodging pedestrians, breathless and panicked.
They didn't stop until they were three blocks away, hiding behind a vending machine. Ayane was laughing. She was bent over, hands on her knees, gasping for air, her coat falling open to reveal flashes of red lace.
"Did you see his face?" she wheezed. "Oh my god, that was close. It reminds me of the Anime Festival."
Instead of laughing, Makoto was shaking while he looked at the office building in the distance. He thought about Kenta and the job he had fought so hard to get. "It wasn't funny, Ayane," he snapped.
Ayane straightened up, her smile faltering. "What?"
"I could have lost my job!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the quiet street. "Do you realize what that would mean? We have bills to pay! I can't just… I can't just run around playing games in alleys!"
"I was just trying to help!" Ayane shouted back, the hurt flashing across her face. "You were miserable! I thought… I thought you liked it when I surprised you!"
"It's reckless and childish!" Makoto ran a hand over his face. "I'm not a college student anymore, Ayane. I'm trying to build a career now. I'm trying to take care of us. And you show up almost naked in the middle of the workday?"
"I wanted to see you and have some fun, idiot!" Tears welled up in her eyes. "I missed you! Ever since you started this job, you're just... gone. You just come home, you eat, and sleep. You never cooked for us as you did before anymore."
She wrapped the coat tighter around herself, shivering now. "You're becoming boring and mean, Makoto." She turned and walked away, heading toward the subway station.
"Ayane, wait!" Makoto called out.
"No!" she yelled over her shoulder. "Go back to your office!"
The sight of her walking away, the oversized trench coat flapping around her like the wings of a bird, sent a pang through Makoto's heart that was more painful than anything.
He realized he was losing them. One by one, he was pushing away the very people he was working so hard to protect.
"Ayane!" he shouted and ran after her. He caught her by the arm just as she reached the exit.
Ayane tried to pull away, her face a mess of tears and smudged eyeliner. "Let me go!"
"No," Makoto said, his voice dropping to a low, desperate growl. He swung her around and pinned her against one of the concrete pillars. The air was cool and smelled of exhaust, but the space between them was tense.
"You're right, Ayane!" Makoto whispered, his eyes searching hers. "I'm a jerk. I'm a big stupid stressed-out jerk who's forgotten why he's doing any of this."
Ayane stared at him, her chest heaving. "You… you are."
"I love that you came here," he said, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer until the bulky trench coat was the only thing between them. "I love that you're reckless and chaotic and that you brought me a squashed melon pan and my favorite mangas."
He sighed, "I'm just scared, Ayane. Scared I'll lose this job, and then I'll lose all of you."
"You won't lose us because of money," Ayane sobbed, her hands finding the lapels of his suit. "You'll only lose us if you stop being our Makoto."
The tension snapped. Makoto leaned in, his mouth crashing against hers again with a desperate hunger. It was an angry kiss, a release of all the frustration and fear and desire he'd been bottling up for days.
Ayane moaned into his mouth, her hands flying up to tangle in his hair, knocking his hairstyle into a chaotic mess. She pushed back against him, her body molding to his, the trench coat falling open. The sensation of her lingerie against his shirt was a thrilling reminder of the two worlds colliding.
Makoto bit her lower lip, hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from her, before his tongue invaded her mouth, reclaiming her. Ayane's hips ground into his, her legs wrapping around one of his as she tried to pull him impossibly closer against the cold concrete.
"Make me feel it, Makoto," she hissed against his lips, her eyes wide and wild. "Remind me who you are."
Makoto kissed her neck, sucking a fresh mark into the skin right above her bra, both a silent apology and a brand of ownership. He let his hands wander, gripping her ass through the thin leggings, his fingers digging in.
He wanted to lose himself in her, to forget the office, the deadlines, and the crushing weight of the real world.
They stayed like that for what felt like hours, hidden in the shadows of the car park, their breathing the only sound in the humid air. But then, Makoto's phone started ringing, reminding him of a meeting at 2 PM.
He eventually pulled back, looking at Ayane's swollen lips and flushed face. The emotional distance was still there.
"You have to go back, boss," Ayane whispered, straightening her hat. Her voice was softer now, the edge gone, but she still wouldn't quite meet his eyes.
"I know," Makoto said, his hands lingering on her hips. "I'll be home by eight. I promise."
"Remember to eat the melon pan and finish the coffee. You look exhausted." She turned and walked toward the station, not looking back.