Instead of working on the epilogue for A Matter of Time and other wips, I ended up in a rabbit hole looking through all my previous google docs containing fanciful story ideas and half-finished outlines. I found this very silly scene/premise I wrote back in 2018 (lol), in which Just Friends high school ShuMako make a deal: Ren will teach her about romance while she, in turn, will ensure he's at the top of his class to get the school authorities off his back. A different take on their Fake Dating ruse in canon:
Ren checked his phone. It read twenty-five minutes after three. For once, he was the early one.
Makoto couldn’t possibly want to discuss Phantom Thieves business at school—he learned the hard way when she dropped the bomb of Ryuji and Ann’s recording in the very same room when she was after them. It had to be something else. Maybe she wanted to talk about her dad? The last time they hung out, she openly cried and admitted she never told anyone else about her dad, and he loved that he knew something about her that no one else did. Maybe that’s why she didn’t want Morgana around, since it was such a sore spot for her. As much as he had his qualms about cops, he felt terrible about what happened to her dad. That cop was her father, after all.
He wished he could say he felt the same about his parents. He shoved that thought deep down.
Ren flew to his feet as soon as Makoto entered the Student Council room. She met his small smile with a flustered one of her own before quickly darting her eyes to the ground.
“Thank you for meeting with me. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” she began, awkwardly motioning him to a chair. He sat and watched her sit upright at the edge of the seat next to him. She had a folder on her lap, one she gripped tightly.
Ren turned to face her. “I didn’t have to wait long. I have time today,” he offered.
“Oh, I’m glad,” she quipped in a voice a little too high-pitched.
A couple of uncomfortable seconds passed.
Ren cleared his throat. “Is...everything ok with you? ”
“Huh? Um, yes, I’m fine,” she squeaked through furious blinking, still holding the folder like a vise.
Ren lifted an eyebrow. “What was it that you needed help with?”
Makoto tucked some hair strands behind her ear, not able to quite look him in the eye. “Oh yes, about that...I could use your help with something. I want to improve in something that’s not my strong suit.”
Ren chuckled. Was she serious? What wasn’t her strong suit? Not only was she a brainiac, but she was one hell of a fighter and his adept second-in-command. “I don’t think there’s much I can—”
“It’s not academic!” she suddenly exclaimed. Ren nearly jumped in his seat.
Makoto placed the folder on the table and wiped her palms on her skirt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to speak out like that,” she muttered nervously.
It wasn’t like her to stall. When it came to business, Makoto was practical and direct, a self-assured leader. And when it wasn’t business, she was patient and compassionate. He admired that about her. (He hadn’t told her that, of course.)
This must be really serious.
He lost his train of thought when she finally met his eyes. “As I was saying, it’s not academic. I need help...with people. Boys, specifically. I want to know how to talk to boys and how to get a boyfriend,” she admitted through a shaky voice, murmuring the last part.
Ren’s jaw dropped. This was not what he was expecting.
Makoto painstakingly continued, hands smoothing her skirt. “Y-you’re really good at talking to people. I’m not...good at any of that. I’m a failure when it comes to romance.” Her shoulders slumped as she closed her eyes. “But I want to improve, and I know I can if I have a good teacher. I want you to tutor me.”
Ren fumbled for words as waves of understanding flooded his senses. She, sensible and ass-kicking Makoto, his tutor who helped him place in the top ten, wanted him to teach her...romance. Which heavily implied certain things. Certain intimate things.
He looked around the room, expecting Ryuji, Yuuki, and Morgana to be cracking up behind the curtains, recording the whole conversation with their phones. Oh, he would get them good.
Only Makoto’s searching but determined eyes found his.
Words finally came out of his dry throat. “Makoto, you can’t be serious.”
“To give you an idea, I made lesson plans. I know we’re both busy, so I structured it into three lessons. Of course, these lessons are subject to your input, but I’m confident that I can be at least satisfactory in these skills with my dedication to learning and your expertise. I’m only asking for three lessons. Only three. No more, no less.”
She opened the folder and held out two neatly stapled and unwrinkled sheets of printer paper with two hands.
“Please, take a look,” she proposed. The proffered papers slightly wrinkled in his sweaty grasp. There were three headers that all had “Lesson” with a plan of some sort below. Ren nearly choked at the first list, which read:
LESSON #1: Flirting
A. Flirting Lecture
i. How to flirt (i.e. charm) with someone
ii. Conversation techniques
B. Demonstration
C. Return Demonstration
D. Feedback
His eyes scanned to lesson number two’s header: ‘Dating.’ She wouldn’t.
Then, the last lesson read: ‘Kissing.’
Surprise, amusement, and then irritation pulsed through him. Makoto was intelligent, sensible, with pretty features she wasn’t aware she had.
But right now, she was doing something downright rash and stupid.
It was one thing that Niijima Makoto wanted him to teach her how to flirt and act on a date. But to teach her how to kiss? What was he, a practice doll? He had to admit she was easy on the eyes as he began to think about what it would be like to kiss her...but she’d only be kissing him to prepare her for the next guy.
His chest tightened. Wait, what the hell was he thinking? Makoto was his friend, so he shouldn’t be jealous of some future boyfriend.
(Plus, what gave her the impression that he was good at kissing? Or that he'd ever kissed someone before?)
“I know this is silly, but I feel...safe with you,” she said in that gentle, encouraging voice of hers. “You’ll be helping me improve myself. And in return, I’ll be helping you keep your top ten status. What do you think?”
“So basically, you’re telling me you want me to be your Fake Boyfriend so you can get a real boyfriend.”
Makoto flinched as a gasp escaped her. Quickly, she cleared her throat and swallowed. “W-well, if you put it that way...yes. But it’s just three times! No more, no less.” Heat flushed her cheeks, much like the girls in the past who confessed they had a crush on him.
Ren stared at her. He was taken aback by her admitting the plain truth and not by anything else.
“I-it’s not like we have feelings for each other, right? We’re just two friends helping each other. You’re helping me improve myself, and in exchange, I’ll get the teachers off your back because they'll realize how smart you are,” she blurted.
He let out a laugh. “Honestly, Makoto, I don’t know how your brilliant mind works sometimes,” he said, shaking his head.
His lips thinned into a disapproving line. “No, Makoto. It doesn’t matter if I have feelings for you or not. No guy wants to be the practice guy for another. It’s insulting.”
Something twisted in his gut as she deflated. “I...understand. I’m sorry. I didn't mean to insult you.”
“Is there someone you have in mind? You know, who you want to date?” he asked suddenly, fiddling with a lock of his hair. He couldn’t take disappointing her a second longer.
Makoto shook her head. “No. I just want to be prepared, is all. And...know what all my peers are talking about.”
Ren considered her words. Makoto, like him, hated asking for help. As ridiculous a request this was, this seemed important to her. His close friend and partner-in-justice sought his backing—and like him, to belong.
And if he were honest with himself, he felt safe with her, too.
“You really want this, do you?” he said, raking a hand through his hair. His eyes shifted from her to the two sheets of paper he held, then back to her. What the fuck was she thinking? What the fuck was he thinking?
“Okay. Three lessons. No more, no less,” he heard himself say.
Makoto brightened, and Ren couldn't discern if the rush in his veins was from apprehension or excitement.
