Chapter Text
Akira’s eyes were impossible to ignore.
They bore into the back of Goro’s skull, made it difficult to so much as write. Although the classroom was freezing, Goro could feel sweat forming on his palms and a kind of warmth spreading over his face. He attributed it to anger. It was growing inside of him with every second that Akira stared, because, really what exactly was Akira attempting to achieve? Intimidation, perhaps? But why?
Goro’s seat, though a row in front of Akira, allowed for Goro to see him in the corner of his eye. Even if he couldn’t see him he would be able to sense his prying eyes, feel that self satisfied smile.
He wouldn’t acknowledge him.
Encouraging this behaviour was the very last thing that Goro wanted to do- after all, it was definitely best to keep someone like Kurusu at an arm’s length.
Drawing in a deep breath, he forced thoughts of Akira from his head. He glanced outside, looked at the barren trees and the pale blue of the sky.
This would certainly be a very long period.
Goro couldn’t have been more relieved when the bell rang. Seriously, what was his problem? One, staring was rude, something which even delinquent trash like Akira should be aware of. Two, it infuriated Goro that he felt so comfortable so unabashedly staring him down with no care at all.
He snatched up his things. Shoving them into his bag, he couldn’t help but hear snippets of a conversation behind him. It appeared to be between three people- the first, and the loudest, was that awful, crass blond boy- Ryuji Sakamoto- he often saw Akira around, talking far too loud and with an energy that Goro found irritating. The second voice he recognised as belonging to Ann Takamaki, who, frankly, he was surprised would associate herself with the likes of Akira and Sakamoto of all people. Even he could recognise her beauty and her way with people- and yet here she was, fraternising with delinquent trash. Her voice had a sweetness that Goro found frankly sickening.
Then there was Akira. His voice was quiet and deep, interjecting infrequently. It could almost get lost between the melodic tones of Ann’s voice and the strident prattling of Ryuji’s. And yet, it seemed to hold the most weight of all three.
Goro found himself trying to pick up the pieces of the conversation that he could gather above the general classroom hubbub. Every time Akira spoke, the other two would immediately stop to listen raptly. Whenever he made a joke, they laughed. When he seemed to give a suggestion, Ryuji asking something which Goro didn’t catch, both Ann and Ryuji stopped speaking to consider it, with Ryuji letting out an awe-filled, “Yeah. I really shoulda thought of that.”
It sent Goro spiralling.
Why did they seem to value his word to this degree? To hang onto his sentences like lost puppies, looking for something to cling to? Goro could never imagine himself putting so much trust in the words of a delinquent. The idea that they would be so blind in their judgement of character was infuriating.
He couldn’t be more glad that school was over for the day, that he could finally be spared of Akira and his ridiculous gang. Although he still had to deal with Makoto, that was nowhere close to as agonising.
He arrived at the clubroom and gave a gentle rap against the door. Makoto was sat at a table at the front of the room, busily typing away at a laptop.
“Ah, Akechi. Come in. How are you?”
That awful measured tone. Her voice grated Goro’s ears. Against his every instinct, he smiled.
“Fine thank you, Niijima. And you?” He pulled out a chair at the table and took a seat.
She said something that Goro only half listened to as he took his notebook out of his bag. Something about club budgeting, that Kobayakawa had given them a deadline for the end of the month. Great, more for him to deal with.
Though he wasted no time in getting to work, Goro internally seethed. The old man could definitely do that himself, but no, let’s get two high schoolers to do it. Even if they were the student council, it didn’t seem very reasonable, especially with a deadline like that. Worst of all, Makoto seemed unfazed. Professional and poised, she worked diligently and spoke little. Where she received her patience Goro had no idea- though he supposed he too on the outside may seem to hold a similar patience.
“You seem distracted.”
It had been about 20 minutes since Goro had arrived by this point. The movements of his pen were quick and sharp, but ground to a halt when Makoto spoke. He looked up to see Niijima with her brows creased, hands folded under her chin. “Apologies if I’m overstepping,” (To which Akechi wanted to scoff, as she very much was), “But if something’s bothering you we can always take a break.”
The concern in her voice- it was awful. Perplexed, Goro gave a chuckle. “Ah, that won’t be necessary Niijima. I’m simply a little sleep deprived. Last night I didn’t sleep until much later than usual.”
It wasn’t entirely bullshit- after his little encounter with Akira sleeping certainly had been a little trickier than usual, though the reason for which he couldn’t quite identify.
Her eyes glanced down to his sheet, where he had drawn up plans for budgeting. She raised her brows. “For a sleep deprived person these are good, Akechi.” She joked. Akechi forced a smile. “We can wrap up today. I’m a little tired myself.” She said before lifting her arms above her head and giving a little sigh.
“Actually, before you go- there was something I had been meaning to ask you about.”
“Oh?”
“It’s regarding the transfer, Akira Kurusu.”
Goro froze. Akira? Really? Now even Makoto was talking about him? What was it about this awful boy that made it impossible for him to not be present in Goro’s life for so much as a moment? With every ounce of willpower in his body, he forced a neutral expression.
“I hope this isn’t too inconvenient for you, but I was hoping that you might be able to do me a favour. He’s been allocated to cleaning duty, but unfortunately I won’t be able to supervise him tomorrow.” She said sounding truly regretful. Goro wanted to roll his eyes. “I hate to ask this of you, but do you think you’d be able to cover for me? I understand if you’re busy, I know this is last minute.”
Goro was not in fact particularly busy. He was caught up on all of his homework and was in a pretty good place when it came to studying. And yet, every rational fibre of his being was screaming that he should tell Makoto that yes, he was busy- incredibly busy, and would be for the foreseeable future. That’s why he was shocked by the words that came spilling out of his mouth.
“I’m not busy. That should be no problem.”
He tried not to look stunned that his own mouth had betrayed him like that. Had he really just agreed?
“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.”
Goro left the clubroom a little frazzled. Not just by the fact that he had essentially agreed to babysit Akira, but also because of how successfully Makoto had read him. Distracted? Was that really how he seemed? He wondered what the tells were, and if there even really were any. Makoto had no right to be able to read his emotions like that. He definitely had to become more aware of how he was coming across if Makoto could sense something like that, which Goro himself was hardly even aware of.
He supposed he was distracted.
Walking the now empty Shujin halls, all of the other students long gone home, Goro thought it over. It was definitely something related to Akira, he knew that much. And it was definitely something confusing, he could also identify that. He yet again decided on anger. That would explain the burning feeling, and the way he wanted to make Akira aware of it whenever he had the chance.
—
The following morning Goro did not check Akira’s usual loiter spot. Instead, he made a beeline straight into school, not even casting it so much as a passing glance. A strange current was running through his body, leaving him feeling filled with an electric charge of adrenaline. Every time he thought about how later he would be supervising Akira’s cleaning, ordering him around and Akira having no choice but to obey, he felt a heady rush course through his veins.
This was what deterred him from having their usual morning encounter. Though the feeling was decidedly good, bolstering Goro’s feeling of superiority and allowing him the schadenfreude of Akira’s subjugation, it was also far too concentrated. To see Akira twice today felt almost overwhelming. In other words, Goro would much rather wait.
When 3pm finally rolled around, students filing out of the classroom and the chatter in air growing quieter and quieter, Goro prepared himself. How wonderful it would be to further make it known to Akira how far below him he was- to see him scrub the surfaces of this room while Goro watched with glee. He hardly even noticed that it was just him and Akira left in the room until he heard him speak.
“Decided you want to help me clean?”
Goro looked up. Akira was standing in front of his desk, leaning over him. His eyes were teasing, yet endlessly intense. Looking up at him from this angle Goro noticed his impressive height- had he always been so tall? And why was this position they were in making him feel a little sick, like his stomach was folding in on itself? Goro hated it, looking up at him like this, but he folded his hands under his chin and forced himself to hold Akira’s gaze.
“Not quite. I’m supervising you, unfortunately.”
“Why? You beg Niijima to let you watch over me instead of her?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m filling in for her because she asked me. Trust me, I would rather not be here.”
“Guess I’d better do a good job then. I feel like you’re not the type to accept something done half-assed.”
“Correct. Although I seriously doubt that you will be able to achieve anything better than ‘half-assed’, but by all means, surprise me.” Goro continued to look in to Akira’s eyes until the last word of his sentence. When he was done, he reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook. “I’ll be studying. Try not to disturb me.”
“Got it.”
Goro didn’t look up as he heard Akira leave the room. As soon as he was gone Goro felt so much lighter. The room felt infinitely bigger, and it took Akira leaving for Goro to realise how whenever he was that close to Akira it felt like the walls were closing in on him.
He opened his notebook, then his Math book, and started writing down some equations, and Akira re-entered the room a few moments later. Goro glanced up just slightly without lifting his head up, taking a sneak glance at him. Akira held a bucket and cloth, as well as a mop tucked in between his elbow and forearm.
Goro forced his eyes back down to his work, resting his head against his palm. No matter how hard he tried to pretend Akira wasn’t there, it was entirely futile. Something would always remind him that he was there, like the zesty smell of cleaning product in the air because Akira was, in fact, here and wiping down the desks. Or the sound of a brush sweeping across the floor, the scratchy sound of worn bristles against the floor’s wooden slats, because, hey, Akira was actually right next to him sweeping.
It was awful. Everywhere Akira went in the room Goro could sense it.
The worst of it came when Akira was cleaning the desk behind him. He heard a low sigh when Akira leant over the desk, followed by the sound of the damp cloth against the wood.
Any sense of satisfaction that he thought he would be feeling in this moment was nowhere to be found. Instead, he found himself in a dazed silence, pretending as hard as he could not notice Akira at all.
Time slowed when Goro realised that Akira was now walking towards his desk. He lazily positioned himself in front of it, leaning over Goro once again.
“I need to clean your desk, too. You might want to move unless you want your work getting covered in cleaning stuff.”
Refusing to look him in the eye, Goro found himself looking at Akira’s hands. He could see his tendons under the skin, his neat nails and his faint green veins.
“I suppose.” Goro said, quickly sweeping his things into his arms and standing.
Akira got to work on the desk, first wiping it over with a cloth for dust and then a damp one to disinfect it. Neither of them spoke as Akira worked. Goro found himself biting his lip, watching as the muscles under Akira’s skin tensed and relaxed while he worked.
He risked a glance at Akira’s face, and what he saw was a look of quiet concentration. Akira’s teeth tugged on his bottom lip and his brows were just slightly creased. The light spilling in from the setting sun cast a glow over Akira’s face, bathing him in warm light and making him look golden. In this close proximity, Goro was noticing things he really hadn’t before. For example, he had had never taken note of how long Akira’s eyelashes were until this moment, thick and dark with a gentle curl. He noticed with wonder that they were so long that they even brushed against his cheeks when he blinked.
It was truly unfortunate that someone like him could look like that. It was definitely misleading. Goro wondered if he had a girlfriend- he supposed it wouldn’t be hard, with Akira’s look and even his reputation- weren’t girls supposed to love ‘bad boys’?
“Done.” Akira said after a short while.
Goro looked at the desk, seeing that it was now in fact clean and gleaming, the damp surface reflecting the fading sunlight.
“Good.” Goro said, or more accurately breathed, to his horror. His voice sounded airy and trancelike, and he quickly cleared his throat. “Took you long enough, Kurusu. Almost thought I’d have to pitch in.”
Akira had walked over to the corner of the room. He was collecting the cleaning supplies and wringing the damp cloth into a bucket, but he gave Goro a quick glance.
“I can’t imagine you cleaning. You seem far too spoiled for that.” He teased.
Goro scoffed, wasting no time in shutting this accusation down. “You don’t know me.”
“I really don’t think we’re that different.”
“I don’t know if you realise quite how insulting that is.. Or maybe you just find pleasure in insulting me.” Goro looked down at his nails, leaning against his desk. He could hear Akira laugh quietly.
Akira left to return the supplies to the storage closet, and Goro felt the release of tension in his body that he didn’t even realise was there. He ran a hand through his hair and gave a deep sigh, and began to pack up his things. As he closed his notebook he caught a glance of the equations he had written down when he had arrived, and frowned when he saw how little he had actually done. The page was ridden with half-finished sums and countless crossings out, evidence of his terrible distractedness.
That had been torturous. What happened to ordering Akira around, to putting him in his place?
When Akira returned, waiting for him at the doorframe, he made a point of holding his gaze as he approached him. They began to walk in silence towards the school exit. The setting sun filtered into the empty hallway in streams of warm light, hitting Goro’s face whenever they passed a window.
“Sorry about that.”
“What?” Goro frowned.
“Making you stay after school. You’re probably busy.”
Goro said nothing, just continued to walk at Akira’s side.
“I have an idea of how to make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me? Kurusu, your concern is ridiculous. All I had to do was sit in a classroom for an hour after school. You’re acting like I had to do something genuinely taxing.” He muttered, despite the fact that something so simple as sitting in a classroom with Akira was, in fact, taxing.
“I wouldn’t call it concern.” Akira began, “More so guilt, maybe?”
“Guilt?” Goro scoffed, raising his eyebrows. He looked over to Akira.
“Yeah. For wasting your precious Student Council President time.” He was smiling, and Goro felt his frown deepen.
Goro sighed. “You exhaust me. Your mocking is utterly benign.”
“Maybe I could make it up to you with a coffee?”
Goro let out a sharp laugh. The two left the school building, descending the stairs and walking down the path that led out of Shujin. It was so cold, and the wind bit at Goro’s nose and hit his cheeks.
“You want me to come back to that dingy little coffee shop again? I’d rather die.”
“You drank the whole thing yesterday. I can tell you liked it.”
“Maybe I was just being polite.” Akechi snapped in response, crossing his arms both from irritation and in an effort to keep warm.
“That’s funny. I don’t think you’ve ever been particularly polite to me.”
They paused outside of the school gates.
“I trust you’re getting the train home, then?”
Akira shook his head. “There’s a strike. Sojiro’s picking me up.”
Goro blinked. Sojiro? The owner of that coffee shop from yesterday?
“Your boss is picking you up from school?” He asked slowly.
“He’s not really my boss. I live at LeBlanc. He took me in when I came to Tokyo.”
“Ah. I suppose that makes more sense.”
It was then that a car pulled up in front of the two. Before Goro could quickly bid Akira goodbye and be on his way, Akira asked him to wait and approached the nearest window of the car. It rolled down slowly, and Akira began to speak. Goro then heard Sojiro’s voice from inside the vehicle.
“You getting in too, kid?”
Akira turned to look at him, looking far too self satisfied. He gave him a look that was almost goading, holding Goro’s gaze as though challenging him.
With a sigh, Goro followed Akira into the car.
—
Being back at LeBlanc felt like a personal betrayal. Goro felt suddenly on edge as he took a seat at the bar, frowning as he avoided Akira’s gaze.
“The usual, sir?”
Goro could tell he was doing that horrendous smile, that barely noticeable and smug expression. He rolled his eyes.
“Mm.”
How he despised being alone with Akira like this. The room felt small, like it was forcing them together. A strange sense of claustrophobia crept over Goro that he tried not to show.
“It was funny seeing you talk to Sojiro in the car.” Said Akira.
Goro watched as he grabbed a cup. “How so?”
“You were being so… nice.” Akira seemed amused.
“And?” Goro demanded.
“I don’t get to see that side of you very often. It’s strange.”
“Ha,” Akechi snickered. “You make me sound awful.”
“Just being honest.” A brief moment of quiet passed between them until Akira spoke up again.
“Does it ever get tiring?”
“Tiring? What?” Goro rested his head against his palm, elbow resting on the bar. His eyes were on Akira, and he waited for him to continue with interest.
“Pretending to be nice.”
“Everyone pretends to be nice. I just so happen to have to do it more because of my situation.” He protested.
“You don’t pretend to be nice to me.”
Goro snickered. “I don’t have to.”
Akira chuckled, the sound low. Even his laugh was unassuming, yet held something deeper beneath.
“You’re saying that because I’m a delinquent, even if I tell anyone how you really are, it won’t matter?”
“Exactly right. You know, for a delinquent you really catch on quickly. I doubt your little friends would show the same aptitude.”
“By my little friends, you mean Ann and Ryuji? Ann’s smart.”
“And the other one?”
“Ryuji… He tries his best.” Akira said, the way his lips curved so slightly betraying quiet amusement.
Goro couldn’t help but chuckle. He hadn’t even realised that Akira had placed his coffee in front of him. Taking it in his hands he took a drink.
Quiet at first, Goro began to hear the thrum of rain against the door. It shook just slightly with the wind, and droplets scattered over its surface.
“Looks like the weather’s taken a turn.” He noted. No matter how terrible sharing a space with Akira was, he couldn’t deny that the ambience here was truly excellent- especially with the soothing sound of rain.
“Doesn’t seem too pleasant for getting home in.” Said Akira, taking a seat beside Goro at the bar. Were barstools usually this close to one another? It felt like Akira really was far too close.
“I can handle some rain, Kurusu.” He reminded him.
“I’m sure. Just thought you might want to stay until it passed.”
Goro met Akira’s gaze. He could sense the mirth behind them, flickering behind his steely irises.
“You perplex me.”
“Is that a compliment?”
Goro raised his brows, said nothing.
“Don’t you have work to do or something?” He asked, scowling as he looked down into the brown depths of his cup. “Washing dishes or whatever else you do here?”
“Maybe. It’d be rude not to talk to my guest though, right?”
“Guest? Don’t make me laugh. You know I’m only here because of my truly unenviable luck.” Goro snapped.
“I really don’t understand why you’re so insistent on trying to talk to me.” He sighed, swirling the dark liquid around, watching it slide over the sides of the cup. “You seem plenty popular with those two disciples of yours at school.”
“Maybe I just find you perplexing.”
Goro blinked, looked into Akira’s eyes. “Are you making fun of me? Really, Kurusu?”
He was smiling just slightly. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Stop saying such ridiculous things…” Muttered Goro.
“I think you should wait out the rain.”
“I think you should stop talking.”
Goro hadn’t even noticed that Akira had made coffee for himself until he saw it in his hands, Akira no longer behind the bar and instead stood beside it, taking a short sip. He walked over to a booth, took a seat, and looked over at Goro.
With a sigh, Goro sat opposite Akira at the booth.
“Do you like mochas?” Akira asked. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, one arm resting atop the table.
“Mochas? Never tried one. I don’t tend to enjoy sweet things.”
“I don’t make them too sweet. You might like this one.”
“You’re going to make another coffee for me just because you think I might discover that I like mochas?” Goro asked incredulously.
“No.” Akira was smiling subtly. “You can try mine.”
He was looking right into Goro’s eyes. It felt like a challenge, like he was being tested by Akira. Goro narrowed his eyes, refused to look away.
Reaching across the table, he took the cup from Akira’s hands. Before he had time to think about it he lifted it to his lips. Akira was staring, truly staring, as Goro drank from his cup. He was leaning in, shifting closer to the edge of his seat, gaze darting from Goro’s eyes to where his lips touched the cup’s rim.
The liquid was bitter at first, strong and somewhat bold, but had an undeniable sweet undertone that grew stronger the more he tasted it. Goro supposed it wasn’t so bad.
“I prefer espressos.” Said Goro simply.
The corner of Akira’s mouth twitched in amusement. He was still leaning in, looking straight into Goro’s eyes.
“What?” Goro asked, laughing at the absurdity of this whole situation.
“Nothing.” Akira still seemed amused.
Underneath the table Akira’s legs were so close to Goro’s he could feel the beginnings of their warmth.
“What exactly are you playing at, Kurusu?” Goro could feel his own lips forming a smile, his heart beginning to pound.
Whatever this game was, he was enjoying it more and more with every second. Stupid Akira, sitting there all confident, thinking he had the upper hand here. Goro felt pity on him for underestimating him- poor, poor, Akira.
When Akira’s legs shifted closer under the table, which Goro noticed through the sound of rustling fabric, Goro didn’t move away. He stayed defiantly put, dared Akira to continue.
It was only a matter of time before Akira finally did it- pressed his knee against where Goro’s knee met his thigh.
Goro let his mouth fall open, giving him a look of both surprise and morbid amusement.
“Kurusu, what do you think you’re doing?” Goro asked. He made no effort to move his leg.
“Why? Am I bothering you?”
Goro considered the question. This should be bothering him- immensely, even. And yet he found himself doing nothing, even mirroring Akira by leaning across the table.
“Not quite. I’m really surprised by your boldness, you know. Or, perhaps audacity is a better word for it. You realise how different we are, do you not? That we are living in entirely different worlds, and such.”
Goro’s head was spinning, his body reeling. He felt as though he were in another world, somewhere where he felt emboldened and irrational. The rush was indescribable.
“Does it matter?” Akira’s leg pressed firmer against his own.
What Goro didn’t expect was that that would only make things worse. Now Akira was just looking at him, saying nothing at all.
“I’m leaving.” He muttered, standing up quickly.
He wasted no time in walking to the door. To his irritation Akira followed. Goro turned around, sighing as he frowned at Akira who stood in front of him.
Goro leaned back against the door. They were close, so, so, close. He looked from Akira’s eyes then down to his lips.
“You’re truly brainless if you think I harbour anything but hate for you.” Goro said sharply.
“Is that right?” Akira’s eyes twinkled, lips curving.
He didn’t even say goodbye. Goro gave Akira one last stern look and then reached for the door handle. He stepped outside without looking back.