Chapter Text
As a wide-eyed Goro Akechi shakes his hand, Akira throws his head back and laughs. “That one was good, wasn’t it? I thought of it on the way here,” he says, taking another deep breath and running a hand through his windblown hair. “I’d dreamt up so many different things to say to you when we met, but man, that one has them all beat!”
Akechi straightens and looks away. If Akira didn’t know any better, he’d say he was blushing. “It was great, Akira,” he replies with a small smile. “You didn’t even give me a chance to get my own one-liner in.”
Akira nods. “I knew yours would be better, so I had to beat you to it.”
“I hadn't thought of one,” Akechi says, “if I’m being honest.”
“Too busy ignoring me?” he jokes, and he hadn’t meant it as an accusation at all, but Akechi winces and—if the shoe fits, he supposes. Still, he follows it up with, “I’m kidding, don’t worry about it,” and the hopeful look on the other boy’s face is enough to make him glad he said it.
A moment of awkward silence passes, and Akira uses it to give Akechi a once-over, biting back a flirty remark because Damn it, I’m supposed to be at least a little mad. But the softness in his eyes, the tinge of red in his cheeks, they don’t go unnoticed.
A few more seconds pass, and finally, Akira figures he needs to jumpstart the conversation, so he takes a breath and begins with, “I’m sorry.”
Akechi says it at the same time, and the two pause, staring at each other. He holds up his hands and says, “I’ll go first, if that’s okay,” and Akira finds it adorable, but doesn’t let himself comment on it.
“We should probably have this conversation somewhere else,” Akira suggests, and he resists the urge to take Akechi’s hand, beginning to walk away. “I know a place.” Wordlessly, he leads, and Akechi follows.
“Where are we going?” he asks, though it doesn’t seem like it matters to him all that much.
“It’s a surprise,” Akira replies, and he knows that if the others are spying on them they’ll surely make fun of him for going back to the same café. He realizes, then, that the walk is a little long, and he tells Akechi, “It’s a few minutes away. You can go on.”
Akechi nods, runs a hand through his hair, and Akira refuses to acknowledge how pretty he looks. After a minute, he says, “I’d like to apologize for ignoring you these past couple weeks. I thought I was doing what was best, but I shouldn’t have taken the decision from you.”
“You talk like you text,” Akira blurts. Akechi pauses, looking amused. “And I forgive you. I’m not going to lie and say it didn’t hurt, but I get where you’re coming from.”
“I’m assuming you know by now who my father is,” he continues with a frown. “It’s no excuse, but after I found out what he did to you...” He shrugs. “I felt guilty that he ruined your life, but he keeps mine going. Granted, I don’t think he likes me all that much,” at this, he lets out a humorless laugh, and Akira feels a twinge of worry, “but still. That’s what I was thinking when I stopped talking to you. I know it’s dumb.”
Akira shrugs, too. “It is dumb, but it’s alright, really. I probably would have done something similar,” he says, smiling softly. “But I want you to know that I don’t care that Shido’s your dad. That whole situation really doesn’t matter to me, I promise.”
“But he ruined your life,” Akechi says, and Akira shakes his head.
“How good would it really have been if I went to the States on a scholarship like I was supposed to?” he says, openly, honestly. “It’s nice to imagine, but it’s nicer to look around at my life now and think, I’d be nothing without the people I met, I’d be nothing if I hadn’t ended up here.”
Akechi stares at him. Akira wishes he could tell what he was thinking. “It amazes me how you can make such a complex thing sound so simple.”
“It’s not as complex as you think it is,” Akira admits. “If that whole thing hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be here. But I like it here, plain and simple.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
He turns, looks him in the eye. “Don’t you agree?”
Akechi holds his gaze, something unspoken in his expression. “You’re right,” he says. “I do.”
They walk in silence for a little while. This is a route he’s taken many times, but it’s different with Akechi by his side. Eventually, Akira says, “I’d like to apologize too.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know,” he chuckles. “Being mad? Not reaching out to you earlier? Hiding the assault thing from you?”
“The assault thing is none of my business,” Akechi says matter-of-factly, “and what I told Ann is the absolute truth. Even if it had been your fault, it was years ago, and it doesn’t matter to me, not even remotely. You have nothing to apologize for, Akira.”
Akira looks away to hide the fact that he’s blushing.
Akechi places a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to look him in the eye. “And thank you for coming to see me.”
“It’s…” Akira falters, flustered. “It’s no big deal, man. Thanks for hearing me out.”
“I’m the one who needed to be heard,” Akechi says. “So I should thank you twice over.”
Akira comes to a stop in front of the café, thinks about how hours earlier, he had been sitting there freaking out at the thought of confrontation. “Welcome to my favorite place.”
Akechi snorts.
“What,” Akira says, “you hate it already? I come here, like, every week.”
“No, that’s the thing.” Akechi shakes his head, hiding a smile behind a gloved hand. “So do I.”
He snaps his jaw shut to keep it from dropping.
Akechi holds the door open like the gentleman he is, and Akira brushes past him as they enter. He notices that Akechi’s wearing the jacket from the picture he’d texted him and grins.
Akechi asks, “How did we frequent the same establishment and never run into each other?”
They choose drinks and order. Akira fiddles with the sugar packets and says coolly, “Maybe we did without noticing.”
“I think I’d notice you,” Akechi replies softly, and Akira looks up from the sugar packet tower he’s making, meeting his eyes.
He feels his heart skip a beat. He covers it up with an eyeroll. “Would you, or would you be too caught up in your classical music and philosophy and Tarantino movies?”
“You’re right,” he counters, not missing a beat. “You wouldn’t notice me either, what with your anime and loud music and huge group of friends.”
“Hey,” Akira laughs. “That group of friends helped me muster up the confidence to come find you today.”
“You’re lucky to have them.” Akechi makes a face. “I was left with Niijima.”
“Did she talk to you in class?” Akira asks, taken aback.
“She texted me,” he answers, and Akira blanches. Makoto never texts in class. “I know! I didn’t think she had it in her!”
“They’re awful,” Akira says, seconds away from a facepalm. “Actually, that’s what I should apologize for. I’m sorry Ann is so intense. Now that things are okay between you and me, I can knock some sense into her properly.”
Akechi laughs, a real one this time, and Akira feels it tug at his heartstrings. He’d loved hearing him laugh over the phone, but it was different in person, to see his eyes light up and his shoulders shake and his smile widen. He leans forward and rests his chin on his hand, surely looking to all the world like a lovestruck Disney princess watching her prince from the window.
He doesn’t even care.
“Please don’t,” Akechi says, after a second. “She was only doing what she felt was best.”
“Intention doesn’t change the consequence,” he replies immediately, parroting what Makoto has to remind him time and time again.
Akechi quirks an eyebrow. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that today.”
“Makoto Niijima does not miss,” Akira says with a solemn nod.
“No, she doesn’t,” he replies, and he reaches back, rubbing his shoulder. “Pretty sure I have a bruise from how hard she kicked my chair during lecture.”
The waitress returns, and when she makes eye contact with Akira, she seems to realize that he’s already been here today with someone else. If she suspects him of cheating on either Akechi or Ann, she doesn’t make it obvious. They receive their drinks: Akira, having already consumed a large hot chocolate, opts for a pumpkin spice latte, and Akechi gets a café au lait. They’re also given their food: a croissant for Akira, who’d grown envious of Ann’s croissant earlier, and a slice of strawberry cake for Akechi.
“I thought you liked it black,” Akira mentions, gesturing at the definitely-not-black coffee, recalling the hour-long conversation they’d had about drinks. He’s suddenly reminded of the notes he kept about all of his favorite things, and self-consciously, as if he could be discovered at any moment, he pockets his phone.
“Ah.” Akechi smiles and ducks his head, taking a sip. “That was a lie. I can’t take it black. You just seemed like the type who would think I was cooler for it,” and at that, Akira laughs loudly , doubling over.
He feigns wiping a tear. “You heard me say my favorite drink was Monster Energy and decided that I was the snooty black coffee type?”
“Sorry for wanting to impress you,” Akechi shoots back, but he’s laughing, too.
There’s something about seeing Akechi sitting in front of him in his favorite café with cake and coffee that distracts Akira from the conversation at hand far too easily. Akira watches him reach down and take a careful bite of the cake, analyzing its flavor. “I’ve never tried the cake here,” he realizes, thinking aloud.
“You haven’t?” Akechi gives him a puzzled stare. “It’s phenomenal,” he says, placing the fork on the plate and pushing it towards him.
Akira takes a piece and tries it, feeling Akechi’s eyes on him as he chews. He’s never much liked strawberries, but he thinks maybe now he does. He tells him, “You’re right,” and reaches forward, taking another bite.
He almost expects Akechi to tell him off and take his cake back, but instead the other boy lights up, smiling brightly. “I knew you’d like it,” he says, and Akira thinks, I do.
“Here,” Akira says, because he has to return the favor. He pushes the croissant across the table.
Akechi shakes his head, but he still takes it, gently pulling a piece off and taking a bite. His hands are soft and well-cared for. Akira mentally puts it in his list of things he likes about him. The croissant probably just tastes like any other croissant, but he says, “It’s good.”
He nods and wonders if Akechi always orders the same thing. He almost asks, but something tells him he’d much rather find out over time.
“How was class?” Akira asks, taking another piece of his cake. “What have you been up to these past two weeks, then?”
“Not much.” Akechi shrugs. “It’s boring without you texting me all the time.”
“Really, Ace Detective?” he asks, and upon hearing the nickname, Akechi laughs. “I was bored, too,” he admits afterwards with a sheepish smile. “I missed watching movies with you and stuff.”
“I’d have thought your friends would still have kept you distracted,” he murmurs in reply.
“And I’d have thought your job would still have kept you distracted,” Akira counters.
“Touché.” Akechi smiles, an expression Akira still isn’t used to seeing past the two pictures he’d gotten. On camera, Akechi’s smile is borderline flashy, which always prompts Akira’s modeling comments, but in person, it's like he's sharing a secret, one that Akira plans on keeping for the rest of his life.
“What can I say?” Akira takes a drink of his coffee and offers Akechi a smile of his own in return. It was worse than his camera smile, probably. “I have a way with words.”
The other boy shakes his head, sips his own drink, and settles into silence, though Akira can feel his eyes on him. Akira watches him, too—he watches Akechi adjust his sleeves, brush back his hair, finish what’s left of his cake. Never could he have grown so fond of these mannerisms over text. He thinks maybe, Akechi disappearing was fate, divine intervention, because otherwise how long would it have taken for Akira to come see him?
Akechi says, “This isn’t how I thought our first meeting would go,” his voice soft.
“Really?” Akira smirks. “Personally, this is exactly what I imagined.”
“I mean, the grand gesture, you coming to see me, that was certainly plausible,” he replies with a small smile. “I suppose I just didn’t foresee the drama.”
“Oh, I was definitely planning on a grand gesture.”
Akechi raises an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Were you, now?”
“Yeah,” Akira says, and he decides to throw in a bit of truth, disguising it as a joke. “I was going to bring you flowers.” He chuckles as he recalls his secret plan to track Akechi down and bring him his favorite food, taking him out for a romantic stroll afterwards.
“I was going to bring you flowers,” Akechi almost whines, “but I thought you would have laughed at them!”
“Don’t get me wrong, I would have,” Akira replies with a grin. The thought of Akechi approaching him with a bouquet of flowers makes his heart flutter, but he covers it up with a teasing tone. “But you wouldn’t have laughed if I brought them to you.”
Akechi looks offended and says, “No, I wouldn’t have. I would have loved them.”
“You’re too easy, Goro Akechi.” Akira winks, and Akechi doesn’t turn away to hide his blush in time. Akira feels a rush of something, something between joy and fondness and excitement, and he laughs. “If someone had told me in the middle of August that I’d end up on a date with the robotic wrong-number text I made fun of, I would never have believed them.”
“If someone had told me in the middle of August that I’d end up on a date with the impolite wrong number that I texted, I wouldn’t have believed them, either,” Akechi replies, and it had been one thing for Akira to casually call this a date, but to hear Akechi say it excites him. It seems to take the other boy by surprise, too, and he repeats, “A date.”
“Oh, this is a date?” Akira teases.
Akechi blinks, and when he speaks, his voice sounds like it does over the phone when Akira’s just proposed a ridiculous movie theory. “You called it a date first?”
Akira tilts his head. “Did I?”
He frowns and says, “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it,” he replies immediately.
Instead of laughing or replying with another insult like normal, Akechi shakes his head, settling into an even smile. “Yeah,” he says. “I do.”
It’s Akira’s turn to look away, but Akechi’s picked up on how flustered he is. “And you called me easy,” he says, rolling his eyes.
Akira looks up at him when he goes silent and watches his gaze shift to the window, staring somewhere past Akira’s head.
“I don’t suppose,” he says slowly, “that those six just happen to be random strangers?”
Akira swivels around to see his group of friends sitting on the same bench, though this time Ann is draped dramatically on Ryuji’s lap and Makoto is sitting precariously on the bench’s arm. They’re still arguing—when are they not—but Futaba is the one to catch his eye this time and she jumps up from her seat, pointing at them and laughing. “They always told me they’d crash our first date,” Akira says, “but I really didn’t think they meant it.”
“I think you underestimate them often,” Akechi replies, and he stands. “But I’ve always wanted to meet them.”
Akira frowns and tells him, “Don’t encourage them! You’re letting them barge into our business again.” But he stands alongside Akechi anyway, and out the window, he can see Ann excitedly beckoning them over. “I guess now is your chance to meet Yusuke,” he says with a chuckle, and Akechi laughs.
As they pay for their food and leave, Akira slings an arm over Akechi’s shoulders, though he tries not to acknowledge the fact that the other boy is inches taller. He stands on his tiptoes a little. “I could crouch down,” Akechi says, and Akira kicks him.
The group seems to have shifted conversations into another argument, and Akira wonders how they could have started a fight in the two minutes since calling them over, but decides not to dwell on it. Despite coming all the way here to crash their night, they seem to barely notice the two when they approach, yelling in heated tones about some obscure topic.
Yusuke, of course, is the first to notice. He stands, gently pushing Futaba off of his legs, and says, “Hello, Akechi.”
Akira groans, and Akechi laughs. “Where’s the ‘hello, Akira’?” he complains, fake-pouting.
“We’ve already said hello today,” Yusuke replies plainly, and Akira shakes his head.
“Ace Detective!” Futaba squeals, jumping up from her spot. In seconds, the group hounds him, rattling off introductions.
Ann punches him in the shoulder.
Whether or not she had actually hit him hard, Akechi does a good job of making her feel good about it, for he staggers back, making a face. “What was that for?”
“For ghosting me,” Akira raises an eyebrow and Ann quickly adds, “and Akira, you jerk!”
“You do deserve that,” Yusuke says, nodding sagely.
Futaba adds, “We were going to dox you.”
“ She was going to dox you,” Akira corrects pointedly, and Akechi laughs.
He holds up his hands in defense, nodding. “I know, it was cowardly of me to disappear on you guys. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I’ve apologized to Akira,” he side-eyes Akira nervously, who gives him an encouraging look, “and we’ve discussed it at length, and I think it’s okay now.”
The six look at each other, analyzing the apology.
“If Akira says it’s okay,” Haru says brightly, “then it’s fine!”
And just like that, they’re back to normal, launching into new conversations. It always astounds Akira how quickly his friends are willing to forget about things and move on, but he supposes this time it’s serving him well.
“It’s nice to put your names and voices to faces,” Akechi says after a moment, looking around at everyone.
“It’s nice to know you aren’t secretly some creepy old catfish,” Ryuji responds calmly, clapping Akechi on the shoulder, and Akira snorts.
“You kind of did catfish me,” he mutters to Akechi.
He raises his eyebrows, turns to Akira. “How so?”
“Prettier in person,” he finishes, and as Akechi breaks out into a smile, they turn back to the group.
It makes Akira happy to see how well Akechi fits in with the others—aside from the occasional dig from Makoto, the seven seem to get along perfectly. Ann is already leaning on his shoulder, having bonded with him over his designer trench coat, though they’ve slipped into a fast-paced discussion with Futaba, Yusuke, and Ryuji about anime. Makoto and Haru cut in once in a while with well-timed judgemental comments.
Akira simply sits back and watches it all with a huge smile on his face. Never would he have thought his life would turn out like this.
The others grow quiet, and Ann gives Akira a pointed look. “We should,” she starts, shifting away from Akechi, tugging Yusuke and Ryuji back with her, “leave them alone.”
Yusuke looks puzzled for a second, but Akira catches Futaba stomping on his foot. He watches in amusement as the two lock eyes and have a wordless conversation until Yusuke finally gives in and says—”Ah. Yes. I must go paint.”
Haru giggles. “We’ll be going now,” she adds lightly, hooking her arm through Makoto’s. “See you later, Akira!”
And just as quickly as they had hounded Akechi, Akira’s group of friends scurried off, leaving the two alone once again.
“I told you they were a lot to handle,” Akira says, turning to Akechi. “But I’m glad you guys get along.”
Akechi watches them go with a wistful expression and says, “I’m glad, too.”
“But I feel like they could have waited a day or two,” he mutters, and Akechi laughs. Casually, he tries Akira’s move from earlier, putting his arm around him as they walk the other direction.
“I don’t mind at all,” he says cheerfully. “Which way is your dorm? It’s getting late, I’ll walk you.”
Akira doesn’t bother to check his watch, glancing up at the sky—the sun had just set. “I live in the one by the big gym,” he tells him quietly, and Akechi nods. “Do we have to go?”
Akechi smiles. “We’ll take the long way.”
And they do—they stroll the streets of campus, never able to halt their conversation. Akira had thought the streets were so familiar to him, so boring, but they were full of excitement and possibility now that he had someone new to traverse them with. They talked about their classes, their dreams and aspirations, their high school lives and future plans. They repeat things they’d said to each other over text, over the phone, but this time Akira was watching him with full focus, not wanting to miss a detail of how they said it to each other in real life. Talking to Akechi in person is exactly what he had imagined, but at the same time, it’s nothing like he’d imagined at all.
“We’re here,” Akira realizes out loud, trying not to sound too sad as they walk past the gym and towards his dorm building.
“This isn’t too far from mine, now that I think about it,” Akechi says, and at this point, Akira isn’t surprised.
Until today, he hadn’t even known that Akechi went to the same university as him. He knew they were in the same area code, of course, and he’d had his suspicions considering the things they talked about, but he hadn’t truly been sure until Ann had told him so bluntly hours before. He thinks maybe, maybe if he had done some more digging, asked around, Googled his name, maybe they’d have met much earlier.
But looking at Goro Akechi at this exact second, his figure illuminated by the moon, looking at his soft smile and bright eyes, he thinks he certainly wouldn’t have it any other way. No other sequence of events could have led up to this one.
Akechi nudges him. “What are you thinking about, Akira?”
“How we ended up here,” he replies, and Akechi smiles.
“It’s an odd thing, isn’t it?” Akechi says, sounding rather distant. “Fate.”
“That’s very dramatic of you,” Akira teases, but when haven’t they been dramatic?
He chuckles. “I know.” And then, to Akira’s surprise, he takes his hand and says, “Same thing tomorrow?”
They stare at each other, then. The two of them take each other in, still, surely, in slight disbelief that they’re together at that very moment.
Akira wants to do so many things with him. He wants to take him to the movie theater, to the park, to his favorite club, his favorite restaurant, his favorite art museum. He wants to invite him into the dorm and watch videos together in his bed. He wants to take him running, to invite him to their group outings, to visit him at the police station with coffee and cake. There’s an endless amount of plans laid out in Akira’s head, but instead of feeling anxious about it, like he needs to get them all done, he’s filled with a gentle reassurance that he has time.
They’ve met. They’re together , and that’s what matters. As for everything else, they have all the time in the world to decide what to do and when.
When Akira looks at Akechi, he not only sees all of the things he’s learned, but all of the things about him that he doesn’t know yet.
He can’t wait to learn them.
“It’s a date,” Akira finally replies, and Akechi sighs happily. “I’ll pick you up from class again, if that’s alright.”
“I’d love nothing more,” Akechi says, and slowly, the two part.
Akira watches him go, knowing he won’t have to wonder when he’ll see him again.
(21:48)
ace detective akechi <3 : Thank you for today.
(21:49)
Akira Kurusu <3 : see you tomorrow :)