Chapter Text
“Harajuku Station - This... is Harajuku Station.”
Ryuji squeezed through the still opening train doors with a shaky step. His heels get scuffed by passerby that also tried pushing out of the cramped iron box of the train, which only pissed him off more.
‘Go look for Morgana’ was the only phrase going through his mind; if he recalled correctly, it had been Ann who ordered him to do it. That damn cat ran away yesterday and the group chat hadn't shut up about it since - 'Morgana this' and 'Mona that'. When he wasn’t in school, the team wanted all hands finding and bringing Morgana back home. The stress left him drained, so he decided to cut the search short and head out for dinner instead. He deserved a treat, after all, considering the shit the cat put him through. He might as well get something actually good instead; hell, he might even bring leftovers for his mom.
He dragged his feet due to exhaustion, scraping the pavement every few steps until he arrived at the restaurant he had in mind - ‘Incroyable’. It’s a Harajuku french restaurant that Ann dragged him and Akira to before. The place boasted authentic French food at a ‘reasonable’ price. While he couldn’t account for it being authentic, Ryuji liked what he got last time - Akira translated the name for him. It was something called... Pepper steak? Ryuji couldn’t remember, but it was delicious. It was cheap for being what Akira said was an expensive cut of steak, anyway. Ann got some fancy, French cream soda that he managed to sneak a sip of when she wasn’t looking. He’s been craving some since, and his mouth waters at the thought of a nice, juicy hunk of meat and a sweet (but not too sweet) soda.
However, Ryuji’s jaw hit the floor when he finally got there. The line was MASSIVE! Flustered, he checks the time on his phone and compares it with the happy hour sign, his face fell. He groans internally as he realizes the sad truth - Happy hour. There went his hopes of a nice dinner. On second thought, ten at night was pretty damn late for happy hour… but he didn’t dwell on it too much. Maybe it was a French thing?
With a defeated sigh and slumped shoulders, Ryuji takes his place at the end of the line, hoping this trip wouldn’t end in misery much like many of his other ventures did lately.
“Omg! Look! It’s him!” One girl squealed, taking out her phone.
“He’s just as pretty in person as on TV...” Squeaked another. “Not every day that you get to see the Detective Prince!”
‘Shit.’ Ryuji mutters to himself, instantly knowing who it was.
Yo, it’s THIS asshole again… Let’s clean his clock and be DONE with it!
Ryuji glares up in time to get an eyeful of Goro Akechi. Smug, uptight, pretty boy Goro Akechi, King of Assholes. Even more unfortunately, while Akechi was interacting with his fans, they happened to look at each other. Ugh, interaction with Goro.
“Oh! Sakamoto-kun! It’s a pleasure to see you here!” Akechi greets with a polite smile. Ryuji rolled his eyes at how the girls in line would swoon at whatever Akechi seemed to be doing at the moment.
'Pretentious ass' Ryuji internally comments, rather pleased when he hears Seiten Taisei laugh.
"Hey, Akechi. What are ya doin' here?" Ryuji asked, already deciding that he didn’t care enough to get a reply.
"Oh, I came for dinner. Appetizers are free during happy hour, but the line always goes out the door..." Akechi pulls his sleeve up to check his watch. "I usually come here every two weeks to try a new crepe. They change the dessert menu around every month too, so it’s never the same selection twice.”
Ryuji sighed, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, well… get in line, I guess. Pretty sure you’re not gettin’ in before the hour ends.”
“Oh… I made a reservation.” Akechi hummed, with an all-knowing smile that pissed off Ryuji. Though, it might just be the fact Akechi just showed him up by appearing to a crowded restaurant with an instant ticket inside just so he could eat at some big fancy table and spend all his money on frivolous stupid swe-
“Would you like to join me, Sakamoto-kun?”
“Huh?” Ryuji must have looked stupid in that moment, because Akechi gave a little snicker to his reaction. Akechi pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly checking something on it before putting it away again.
“Would you like to join? I couldn’t get a single seat to myself this evening, and it seems to be a waste of a perfectly good table.” Akechi tilted his head to the side, reminding Ryuji of a puppy begging for its way.
Up to you, bro. Ya ‘true’ self says fuck that noise though.
Ryuji’s stomach growled audibly. If he took it, it means he had to look Akechi’s stupid face and his dumb hairstyle the whole time. But... He noticed the girls from earlier mumbling to each other, probably something about how they want Akechi to take them to dinner. Ryuji figured it was at no loss to him, aside from being forced to sit across some dickhead he didn’t even like.
“Sure. Fine.” Ryuji shrugs, but his entire demeanor changes as he squints at Akechi. “But I’m paying for my own food, got it?” Ryuji growls.. He wasn’t in the mood to enter his Akechi hating stance, because he was tired from searching for a cat he barely wanted to find. Akechi’s face brightened even more, before gesturing to Ryuji.
“Great! Come with me, I’ll sign in for us.” Akechi led the way, excusing himself past a couple that was occupying the doorway. Ryuji followed, apologizing for pushing through the line after the fact.
“Have you tried the cream soda?” Akechi asked Ryuji, who had his nose in a menu. Ryuji did as much as he could to avoid even looking at the guy that got him in this place. He gives an affirmative nod, looking for the steak he wants. However...
“Where’s the pepper steak?” Ryuji grumbles, running his hands through his hair and messing it up. Akechi put his hand to his chin, frowning slightly in thought.
“Pepper steak?” He asked. “I’m… not aware of an item with that name.”
“No, that’s not the name… it’s like the translation of what it is? I dunno, all I remember is that a friend said it’s steak with pepper on it... these damn menus ain’t helpin’, either...” Ryuji sighed, closing the menu in defeat. Akechi hummed, opening his own menu and flipping through while Ryuji looked around for their waiter.
“Steak au poivre?” Akechi offered. Ryuji could have sworn he misheard the guy. Were those even words…?
“Steak ow pwah?” Ryuji questioned, hands in his pockets again with his leg resting on his chair. Akechi laughed.
“No no Sakamoto-kun. It’s pronounced steak au poivre. It’s a steak that they make by grinding peppercorns and cooking the meat in it.”
… We knew that. Totally. … Whatever! We learned somethin’, so what!
‘He doesn’t gotta be a smartass about it, though.’ Ryuji mentally agrees.
“Er... Thanks.” Ryuji replied, opening the menu again and looking for the same menu item Akechi told him about. He read over the name a few times, squinting at the spelling.
“The hell, man...? Why do they spell it like that...?” Ryuji grumbles, then slumps in his chair. He earns a look of faked concern from Akechi, who took a sip from his water cup before putting it back down and balancing his chin on his arms.
“You seem frustrated. Bad day at school?” Akechi breaks the mildly awkward silence, and Ryuji wanted so badly to scoff and brush him off. His momma taught him better, though, and even if he hated everything about Goro Akechi and all stood for, he deserved at least some modicum of respect. Not that Ryuji wanted to pay said respect to him.
“Had a... falling out with a friend.” He finally admits, hoping Akechi wouldn’t inquire further. Ryuji can only blame himself - of course the detective is going to pry if there’s a mystery to solve. Damnit.
“Oh? Is that why I’ve been seeing you, Kurusu-kun, and Takamaki-san running around town lately? Are you looking for that friend?” Akechi prods.
“What, are you stalking us or something?” Ryuji snaps, quick to try and defend himself and his friends.
“Not stalking. Just... noticing. I happened to run into Niijima-chan last night while walking home. She seemed to be in a rush, as if she was looking for something.” Akechi responds.
“Look, dude. I… really don’t wanna go into this. I get that you’re just tryin to help but…”
“Oh, yes, of course! I apologize for prodding too much, Sakamoto-kun. You’re probably tired.”
‘Bout time he backed off.
“Hell yeah I am.” Ryuji sighs, closing his menu one last time and putting his elbows on the table, using one hand to hold his head up. He stares at Akechi like he’s trying to decide if he wants to bail or not, seeing as the interior of this place didn’t… quite favor his aesthetic. Too pretentious. Akechi had put down his menu as well, threading his fingers together and politely smiling at Ryuji. The waiter eventually came over, bowing to the two boys before asking for their drink orders.
“I’ll take a vanilla cream soda.” Ryuji orders.
“And I’ll have a mint lemon soda.” Akechi adds. The waiter gives an ecstatic smile and makes for the kitchen.
“I wasn’t aware that you’re the type for sweets.” Akechi says, obviously trying to start a conversation and dispel the awkward atmosphere between them. Ryuji went along with it, despite feeling a bit of stress start to manifest as a headache - from Morgana or Akechi, he didn’t know.
“I’m not. I just drank some of Ann’s when I was here last time and I liked it. Wanted some for myself.”
Akechi nods, looking deep in thought, then starts again. “If sweetness isn’t your kind of thing, I would suggest getting what I just got.”
“But you’re the king of sweets, ain’t ya? Should I really be askin’ you on what’s not as sweet?” Ryuji jokes, not thinking too much of it… and being pleasantly surprised when Akechi actually laughs a little instead of his typical snicker.
“I suppose you’re right…!” Akechi managed between chuckles. “King of sweets, eh? Perhaps I should post that.”
He pulled out his phone, already taking a moment to type out a post for his food blog - the one Futaba told him and the other Thieves about. To Ryuji’s surprise, a notification went off within ear shot - was Akechi so popular people had notifications for when he updated his blog? … Okay, maybe it was unrelated, but Ryuji wouldn’t put it past the super fans. Ryuji remembers Ann singing praises of Akechi’s taste in sweets when Futaba showed them the blog, saying that she’d been to a lot of those places and adored what they offered. Ryuji, on the other hand... didn’t trust her word, knowing from just being around her in middle school that Ann loved those kinds of sweets that had such intense flavor and were so chock full of sweetness that just smelling some of those dishes makes your stomach ache.
“I do mean it, though.” Akechi continued, making one final swipe on his phone before placing it face down on the table to resume his conversation with Ryuji. “Mint and lemon does wonders for clearing your palate, especially in a carbonated form. I recently started ordering lemon soda with my desserts instead of water, or my usual cherry soda, and it’s allowed me to enjoy the flavors to a much greater degree.”
… You gettin’ any of this? Cause I ain’t.
‘Dude, I have no damn clue.’ Ryuji responds, catching himself before he actually shrugs in person to respond to his persona..
“Yeah, that’s… uh, cool. Yeah.” He stammered. The conversation dies there, and Ryuji feels the awkward aura quickly overtaking the table.
Either Ryuji hadn’t been paying too much attention or their waiter was a master assassin of some sort, because he came out of seemingly nowhere carrying two fancy cups on fancy restaurant coasters with fancy fruit skewers in each glass. Fancy. He placed them on the table with barely even a sound and took out a small notebook.
“What will you be having today, sir?” The waiter asked, voice gentle, yet still intimidating. Ryuji was taken a bit off guard by how fast everything had been done, which caused him to look like a fool and he attempted to mentally catch up and realize the waiter was talking to him first. “... Oh! Uh…”
Steak au Poivre, bro. Oh pu-waaaa-ve. Like that!
“St-steak ow pov…” Ryuji stammers, embarrassed that he can’t say it right. There’s a bit more gentle encouragement from Seiten, but it still wasn’t even close. Despite his butchering of the pronunciation, however, the waiter nods and turns to Akechi.
“I’ll have the shrimp francese, with tomato and arugula. Oh, and can you please bring me the dessert menu if you can?” Akechi orders, smiling his stupid celebrity smile the entire time. The waiter gave a similar smile and disappeared, only to return in no time with a pink and purple menu stuffed with pictures of crepes and cakes. Ryuji mentally groaned before reaching for his glass, specifically the skewer decorated with lime and lemon pieces, as well as the paper thin lime decorating the rim.
“Ah, Sakamoto-kun!” Akechi speaks suddenly, forcing Ryuji to jerk his hand back.
“Wh-what?!” He blurts, possibly a bit too loud considering the looks he was getting. However, Akechi continues.
“Sorry for startling you but…” He picks up his phone and readies it in his leather gloved hands.
“Would you mind too terribly if I took a photo of your drink? For my blog, I mean.”
Ryuji raised an eyebrow, processing the thought, before rolling his eyes with an over dramatic sigh and allowing Akechi his photo. “Sure, whatever. Make it quick.”
Akechi nods with a grin and began the process of angling his phone just right. Ryuji watches this go on for a few moments, almost finding it kinda funny how Akechi needed to move around to get the photo he wanted. The whole dilemma reminded Ryuji when Yusuke requested for him to pose for drawings, the way he would swap between fidgeting around for the “perfect angle”, only to freeze before breaking into motion once again - so he could “refine the smaller details” - whatever the hell any of that meant. Still, Yusuke wanting him for posing was … nice, in a way. Made him feel useful. Speaking of useful, though, Ryuji decides to check the group chat, despite really feeling like he shouldn’t.
It started with Futaba’s text bubble typing.
Futaba: Did you guys find him yet???
Akira: Haven’t seen him.
Yusuke: He truly hasn’t returned to the two of you yet?
Makoto: It seems that he’s really run away…
Futaba: No…
Akira: I’m sure everything will be alright.
Akira: We’ll find him Futaba.
Ann: And we’ll apologize. Right Ryuji?
Yusuke: Is it truly Ryuji’s fault?
Makoto: Morgana did seem rather upset with Ryuji in particular.
Ann: Ryuji, what did you say to him??
Ann: Ryuji???
Akira: He’s probably busy looking for Morgana.
Futaba: Unlikely. He’s in Harajuku.
Ryuji blinked. How did she- oh. yeah.
Futaba: I can check where everybody is. He didn’t turn off his location either so honestly he’s asking to get hacked.
Ryuji started typing.
Ryuji: dude, creepy.
Futaba: ANYWAY!!! Why are you eating at a fancy crepe restaurant when Mona is missing!!!
Ann: Is he at Incroyable? Seriously?
Ann: Ryuji I told you I would go with you again when Shiho was back in town!
Ryuji: sorry! I was hungry and I’ve been running around tokyo all damn day!
Futaba: No excuses! Back to the search!
Ryuji: i didn’t get to eat yet, hold on!
Makoto: You should be helping with the search Ryuji, not eating in a restaurant while we fix this.
Ryuji: you’re all acting like I didn’t even bother lookin!
Yusuke: I can confirm that he was indeed searching. We both surveyed the train station and Shibuya Plaza for Morgana and found nothing. It was around the time my school releases.
Yusuke: We separated not long after, I went to Yongen to assist Ann while he left to check Aoyama-Itchome.
Futaba: Where could Mona be…..
Makoto: Akira, is there anywhere you can think of that Morgana would go?
Akira: Aside from the Metaverse or Okumura’s palace, not really.
Ann: Then that’s where we’ll check tomorrow!
Makoto: I suggest we all retire for the night, I do agree with Ryuji in that we need to take breaks and not run ourselves ragged searching. Tokyo is a large place with even more places for a cat like Morgana to hide in.
Makoto: Tomorrow is a day off, so let's all meet in front of the Okumura foods building tomorrow at 12 AM.
“Sakamoto-kun.”
Ryuji flinched. He jams his phone in his pocket to see Akechi resting his gloved hand on his own phone, wearing a concerned expression..
“Yeah, yeah… what…?” Ryuji asked. Akechi’s wide eyes mellowed upon meeting with Ryuji’s own.
“Sakamoto-kun, are… Are you sure that you’re alright?” Akechi’s brows creased, dipping with concern. Ryuji remained silent, but wary.
“S-sorry. I’m … in a chat with some friends. They’re talking about the fall out.” Ryuji did his best to end it there, make it sound like he didn’t want to talk about it, hoping Akechi would get the idea and not ask. It was admittedly a rather private matter that should have been kept as a Phantom Thieves exclusive, after all. But at the same time… he wanted to let it out to somebody, and clearly none of the Phantom Thieves were interested in hearing him out. As much as Ryuji would love to tell his mom, she might try to talk to the thieves about it, and that was not going to work either. Akechi was probably the worst person to say it to, but Ryuji felt like he would implode if he kept it in for much longer.
“Hey.” Ryuji decides to open his mouth, but almost regrets it as soon as he starts talking.
Akechi looks up from sipping his soda and browsing on his phone to meet eyes with Ryuji. He gives a small smile while the straw’s still in his mouth.
“Yes?” Akechi replied, clearly ready to listen. Ryuji sighed, deciding to take his chances and not back out.
“... What would you do… If, for example, a friend got mad at you and started avoiding you?” Ryuji asks, wanting to look literally anywhere but at Akechi at this moment in time. It feels like Akechi’s staring into Ryuji’s soul, even if he knows that Akechi’s only trying to be polite. He already feels bad enough as it is.
Akechi’s fingers intertwined again, with his elbows on the table and his chin balanced on top of his hands. He closed his eyes, thinking to himself for what feels like the world’s longest moment.
“Hm… That’s... a rather difficult question for me to answer, considering I don’t really have too many friends.” Akechi chuckled, but in a way that made Ryuji feel bad for asking the question. He continues. “...I would seek them out. If I wasn’t understanding what I said to upset them, I would ask what it was so I can better my behavior for the next time we speak.”
"...Yeah. You're right." Ryuji grimaced. He didn't want to admit it, but Akechi was right. Now that made him feel even worse about Morgana.
"Well, I'm not finished." Akechi broke in, voice stern and concentrated. "Just simply asking what I did wrong won't help either. Next… I would apologize for what I did."
"But what if it's over a dumb misunderstanding? What if you didn't mean it or it's over something real dumb and not important?" Ryuji asked.
"Even so. I've found that apologizing and admitting that you're wrong, even if in the case that the spat was over something rather meaningless, it's good to say sorry. It helps to alleviate whatever the person is upset at you over."
Ryuji laughs, but it’s dry, almost bitter. "You make it sound like you apologize for dumb mistakes all the time. Wasn't aware mister perfect flubbed up his words too."
Akechi had an unsure smile, avoiding Ryuji's eyes after hearing those words. He quickly recovered his front that Ryuji knew about and hated so much.
"Oh, it's much less from personal experience than you’d think. I… read a lot of romance novels in my spare time. It's an excellent tactic that I have found myself using on rare occasions." He tapped his chin with one finger. "... Oh! But please don't misunderstand my personal circumstances with making a fake apology. Make sure that you mean it. If your friend ran away over this, I doubt that it would help if they felt your sorries weren't real."
"... Yeah. Got it." Ryuji replies, looking at his phone. Morgana had an ego (and he was wondering why Zorro was so… like that), maybe stroking it with an apology would be the best way to get him back? But… something about him felt icky about the whole concept. Dishonesty wasn’t his strong suit.
"So… I'm just sucking up to him? Telling him what he wants to hear?" Ryuji played with his soda straw, watching the melting ice in the glass drift through cream. Akechi was mid sip of his own soda, and quickly put it down after being asked a question.
"Well, that's a rather… defeatist way of putting it, but… yes. I suppose that's what you would call it." Akechi checked his phone, looking between it and Ryuji. "... Is this about your friend?"
"I told you, it ain't yer damn business." Ryuji growled.
Akechi puts his phone down and raises both hands in a surrendering gesture. "Apologies. Again, I don't wish to pry, but you seem to be rather down in the dumps today."
"Yeah, and I wanna stay in the dumps, if it means you don't get all up in my business." Ryuji glowered, suddenly not feeling too excited over his drink. Why would Akechi even give a shit about this? Is he really that determined to play this fake mask?
"... Are you, perhaps, mad at this friend of yours?" Akechi pushes gently, but it still starts to piss Ryuji off.
“Akechi-”
“If you see apologizing as sucking up, that makes me believe this friend is not an innocent party.”
“I don’t need your psycho exam bullshit right now Akechi!” Ryuji snaps, leaving Akechi without much else to say.
An awkward, tense air falls over the table, with Ryuji crossing his arms in a huff and Akechi looking down at the tablecloth. It’s completely silent, save for the chatter of other tables. They both take sips from their drinks, with Ryuji letting the cream float around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it down. It was light and airy, as if he was just drinking air, little sustenance but just a small twang of vanilla, with a ghost of fizz. He glanced over at Akechi again, who was invested in his phone, with one arm wrapped around his stomach, slouching over and curling in on himself.
… Okay, I'll admit that one was kinda harsh, bro.
“Hey.” Ryuji called for Akechi’s attention, earning a small jump from the detective prince as he looks over in interest. “Sorry. I lost my shit there for a bit.” Akechi only stared, his eyes looking a bit sad.
“That… is what I meant.” Akechi points out. Ryuji tilted his head to the side, attempting to process.
“I know I just told you to… well, suck up to this friend of yours - but it was my fault for prying. The blame isn’t entirely yours, yet you naturally act like it’s entirely your fault.”
“I don’t…” Ryuji argued. “I don’t act like it’s my fault. I just… have a lot on my mind.”
“I did read that ranting can help with pent up aggression...” Akechi suggested.
“I’m not ranting to you! And it’s not that big of a deal, either! I just... needed to let it out by talking to somebody. That’s all.” Ryuji attempts to defend himself.
Akechi hums, checking his phone once again. “Very well. I’m here if you would like to chat, though.” He seemed absorbed in it, which Ryuji took as Akechi essentially ending all communication until the food arrived - possibly until the meal was over. Ryuji didn’t mind that. He hated those mind tricks Akechi tried pulling just now - why would anyone as fake as Akechi give a rat’s ass about him?
The food eventually made its way to the table, with the waiter reappearing just like before. Ryuji’s greeted by a hot plate with a high pile of weird looking fries. Ryuji writes it off as a French thing. Along with the fries was the cut of steak he had been desiring, covered in its trademark crust of crushed pepper. The smell alone was enough to pull Ryuji from his bad mood and get his stomach talking again. Ryuji does, however, stop to glance at Akechi to see what he got, seeing a plate with greens, tomatoes, and chunks of shrimp.
Ugggggh. This guy eats like the pretentious ass he is!
‘Good for him I guess. Eating healthy and shit.’
Ryuji dug in right away, his previous gripes melting as he finally eats. You’d figure Ryuji would know that if you don’t eat, your blood sugar hits the toilet and you feel like shit, but… maybe his whole issue with this was just because he was hungry? Yeah, that’s probably it.
Akechi pecked at his dish like some sort of bird, taking a solid minute or two chewing between each fork of veggie and shrimp. He didn’t understand how anybody could eat like... that! Ryuji didn’t understand how anybody could live the way Akechi did, with his fake grin on his fake face and his blog about sugary food, worrying about his looks and wearing suits and dress shoes all the time. This stupid perfection image irritated him to no end. The symbol of a perfect kid, the perfect young adult with seemingly no emotion that just kissed ass wherever he went, the perfect student, and a damn perfect detective. How the hell did a high schooler even GET to be a detective, anyway? He was so damn irritating just to look at, just to hear about on the news, he wanted to vomit every time he heard anybody mention him now. Ryuji knows it’s overreacting, yet… Ryuji hates dishonesty just as much as he hates shitty adults.
“You seem stressed.” Akechi stated.
“Mmph?” Ryuji muffled around the steak that he crammed into mouth. He’d been so deep in thought about his hate of fakeness that Seiten Taisei had been nodding along with, he almost forgot that Akechi might actually want to talk to him. Seeing Akechi’s face scrunch up with just a touch of disgust, he remembered his manners and makes an effort to chew and swallow.
“I said you seem stressed. You keep glaring at me.” Akechi repeated, a touch of annoyance in his voice. Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck in that way he did when he got embarrassed or was caught off guard. This time, he remained silent, almost shamefully, as he finished his half the steak he ordered. Does Ryuji eat too fast? He doesn’t think so.
“You’re not eating that half?” Akechi questions, pointing his fork at Ryuji’s plate. Ryuji swallowed.
“I’m saving it for my ma.” He bluntly replies, looking around the dining room for a waiter. He needed a box - hey, where did their waiter even GO, anyway?
“Oh, I… assumed you would have made a separate order, if you were bringing one of your parents something.” Akechi raises a brow.
“Nah, when I go out, I usually bring her back half of what I get. I gotta watch what I spend since I don’t have a job.” Ryuji explains, forgetting that he was supposed to be angry with Akechi for prying too much. Though, he feels like he doesn’t mind talking about his mom to Akechi. Maybe it was because the other topic was Thief shit? Probably.
“Oh, is your family… strapped for funds?” Akechi asked, before realizing what he just asked. He mentally slaps himself for being insensitive. “N-nevermind, I apologize for asking such a... personal question.”
“I don’t really care. It’s not all that secret - just… just don’t worry ‘bout it.” Ryuji waved a hand to dismiss the topic, assuring Akechi it was okay. Something told him that it was fine to talk about his family here. Was it because it wasn’t something that directly impacts both of them? Who knows, but it beats dancing around the whole Morgana topic, so he rolls with it. Taisei seems comfortable, at least.
“My ma works two jobs. I’ve been trying to get one in my free time, but... well...” Ryuji lazily gestures to his hair. “...Tokyo’s got me pinned as a delinquent punk that would be no good in any job, and I ain’t going back to black. I can’t.”
“I see.” Akechi trailed off, putting his fork down and paying attention in full dividends to Ryuji. It almost felt… nice, that Akechi cared. “If... you don’t mind, what about your father?”
Ryuji fell silent at that, closing off completely for a few seconds as he attempts to find a good way to approach the topic. The regret filled Akechi’s face almost instantly - he was SHIT at picking topics.
“It’s… It’s okay, man. Really.” Ryuji crossed his arms and thought to himself, while Akechi looked on, concerned. “He was always drinkin’ and shit when I was little. First week of middle school, he just… left. Mom pulled me from school that day, we burned all his shit and cleaned the apartment so it never smelled like beer again. Don’t know or care where the hell he is now.”
Hey man, Princey’s lookin’ worried over there. Might wanna ease his worries so he doesn’t try to flip out on us.
At Seiten Taisei’s warning, Ryuji looks Akechi in the eyes. He was right. Akechi’s expression looked noticeably less plastic, like the celebrity paint peeled off upon hearing about his dad. The tension was building way too fast - Ryuji has to say something.
“Hey, I think you were right... About the ranting thing.” Ryuji started, catching Akechi’s attention again. It’s hard not to be nervous. “I mean, I didn’t talk about the friend bullshit, but I still feel a little better. Maybe I’m just pent up, or something.” He shrugs. Akechi still seems on edge.
“Is that right? I’m glad that I was able to help you in that case.” Akechi smiled. The fake smile, Ryuji noted. “If you don’t think it too rude… could I perhaps… rant as well…?”
“What, you feeling under the weather too?” Ryuji grins, letting himself take a teasing tone. Akechi smiles too, while keeping the uneasy expression. It was a start.
“A bit. This week has been rather stressful for me, what with the Kaneshiro and Medjed incidents being piled up on my plate.” Akechi huffed.
Oh yeah, Kaneshiro and Medjed made Akechi’s reputation hit the shit. He still remembers two girls that sat in front of him in his class that liked to talk shit on the guy and sing the praises of the Phantom Thieves, when months before they pretty much worshipped him. Seeing Akechi now, it makes him remember that as robotic as the celebrity may seem, he does have emotions. Buried under enough plastic to kill the ocean emotions, but emotions nonetheless. Ryuji recalls being the talk of school after his leg was broken, how people talked shit about him behind his back after singing his praises while he still had a squeaky clean track record. Two faced assholes. Akechi had to go through that on a national level, considering that the Phantom Thieves were popular in other countries now. Ryuji was never so curious to check Akechi’s blog postings as he was then, wondering if his inbox or comment sections were really flooded with trolls and hate mail like he was joking about on TV. It made him feel a little sick, so… might as well help if he can, right?
“... Shoot. Go ahead - you listened to me, I can listen to you too.” Ryuji offers, all ears. Akechi’s brow raised before he let out a soft chuckle.
“My… how kind of you.” He speaks carefully, as if his words will make or break what Ryuji thinks of him. It’s… kinda the truth, in a way.
“The office has been rather busy recently - I’ve been working extra hours, hoping to keep up with the senior investigators. The Phantom Thieves truly are an astounding group, being able to turn public opinion so quickly in their favor, only a few months after their debut.” He explains, taking a small sip of his soda, then making a rather dramatic sigh. “... And with their positive opinion, it would appear that my own has taken a considerate nosedive.” Ryuji frowned, feeling bad for Akechi. Only a little.
This guy’s not even a clown, he’s the whole damn circus! Even if we feel bad, he’s still not someone we trust, ya know. C’mon, bro.
‘Yeah, I know. But still…’ Ryuji protests to Taisei mentally. Akechi, be he aware or not, continues.
“I apologize if I’m speaking too much about the Phantom Thieves. You’re probably sick of hearing about them.” Akechi laughed his pitiful laugh.
‘That’s… half true.’ Ryuji checked his phone again, only catching a small blip on the group chat screen that showed Akira and Makoto typing at the same time. The table cloth obscured whatever they were talking about since the last time he checked the chatroom.
‘It’s more that I kinda wish they’d stop nagging me than I wish I'd stop hearing about them.’ Ryuji thinks.
“Sakamoto.”
Ryuji jumped, forgetting that Akechi was talking to him.
“Drifted off, sorry. I guess I am a little sick of hearing about em.” Ryuji ruffled his own hair, feeling a bit ashamed at his own zoning out. Akechi blinked.
“Hm. I was under the impression that you and your friends were fans.” Akechi impaled shrimp and a tomato on his fork, before sliding it into his mouth.
“Well, yeah. Everybody gets a little sick of things they like over time though, right?” Ryuji spoke, waving down a waiter who passed by their table. A wordless exchange took place where the server motioned his hands in a square motion, and Ryuji nodded. The man hustled into the back, assumedly to grab a box.
“I suppose you’re right. Obsessions don’t last forever, do they?” Akechi had only a pitiable little clump of salad and seafood left, which he finished off rather easily around the same time that Ryuji got a styrofoam container. With his fork, Ryuji transferred his leftovers, fries included. With a snap, the lid was shut, and his attention went back to the soda that he barely drank throughout the dinner. He reaches for it, pulling it closer, almost chugging it through the tiny straw.
“Well.” Akechi started, getting Ryuji’s gaze. “It was rather nice having dinner with somebody today. I rarely get the occasion when it isn’t with my superiors, and they’re hardly as friendly company as you are, Sakamoto-kun.”
… Shit, that’s the nicest thing he’s said all night!
“No big deal. Thanks for letting me crash on your fancy dinner reservation.” Ryuji started absentmindedly playing with his hair again while pulling up his mom’s contact on his phone. He should probably message her. “So, you don’t eat out with others a lot? I thought you... Would’ve eaten with your police buddies or something.”
Akechi winced. “Well, the police department has been rather busy lately, but even then, nobody really wants to go out for ramen or okonomiyaki with the same investigators that were just arguing with them over case theories in a meeting room. Those sorts of stories of fellow workers joining together and drinking their pains away at an Oden cart are more for salary workers and cubicle suits.”
Ryuji gave a grin.
‘Smartass.’
Ain’t that the truth.
“Well, if not the people you work with, what about friends from school, or what about your parents?” Ryuji blurted, getting a bit too enthusiastic that he was actually having a conversation with Goro Akechi of all people. Well, one that wasn’t fake or forced in any way. Things became awkward almost instantly after that question though, and Ryuji closes his mouth mouth in shame. Akechi’s eyes had a far off glow to them, like he didn’t want to be there or he was absorbed in another place or time.
‘Shit.’ Ryuji scolded himself.
“... Bad memories?” Ryuji quietly asks, feeling a bit guilty. Akechi’s body movement has gone stiff.
“Somewhat.” Akechi thought for a second, falling silent. He swirls around the remaining oil from his food on his plate with the salad fork he had been using earlier.
“I don’t really have many friends. And...I live alone.” A conflicted, forced grin hung off of his face. Ryuji tried to make his next few words as delicate as he could, knowing he could make or break the whole thing like this.
“And… Your parents?”
The corners of Akechi’s mouth pulled themselves up even higher. “... None of your business?” He snorted. Ryuji was flabbergasted that Akechi made a joke on his own attitude from earlier that night.
“Hey, stop messing with me.” Ryuji grinned. He didn’t want to admit that the joke was a little humorous, if only for a second. Akechi smiled too, not reverting back to the depressed front that Ryuji spotted coming from him seconds earlier.
“Apologies.” He fell silent for a bit. After a pause, Akechi starts again.
“...My mother passed away a long time ago, when I was a young boy.” He spoke, his tone dropping, but not to an awkward level. Ryuji sat up straight, probably out of some sort of vaguely undeserved respect. “She left me inheritance, but I was too young to live on my own or keep it until the age of fourteen. I grew up in the foster system.”
… Jeez. Dunno what we’d be without mom.
“And your dad?” Ryuji hated asking, but his curiosity got the better of him. Akechi only shook his head.
“Out of the picture. I could probably find him If I wanted, but I have no reason to right now. I… would like to believe I ended up fine despite him not being around.” The silence was deafening and awkward, to say the least. Akechi’s eyes were closed now, but if it was due to being in thought or to avoid Ryuji, he didn’t know. He tried to think of something stupid to lighten the mood - it was one of the things he did best, after all. Ryuji gives one of his beaming smiles.
“Shitty Dad Club.” Ryuji comments, not too loud, and not too enthusiastically. He attempts to keep his enthusiasm in, but it peeks out despite his attempts for the bored tone. The surprise shifted from Akechi started as a small giggle, but quickly evolved to a delicate but hearty laugh.
“Quite creative of you.” Akechi held his gloved fist out, in a fistbump position. “Shitty Dad Club.” He responded, earning a huge grin from Ryuji.
Did we... ? Hell YEAH we got Akechi to say shit!
‘We totally did.’ Ryuji congratulated himself and Seiten with a mental slap on the back before returning the gesture to Akechi and fist-bumping him.
“Shitty Dad Club.”
The two made nonsensical chatter until the bill arrived, which Akechi requested to be split into two for both to pay separately. Ryuji’s half of the bill came first, which Ryuji quickly pays and stands up with his takeout in hand. Akechi remains sitting.
“You staying?” Ryuji asks.
“Yes, I still have to get my crepe.” Akechi grins. “Oh, would you like to stay for dessert? I know that you just paid, but I can pay for you, if you would like.”
“Nah.” Ryuji replies. “You already did enough by listening and letting me join ya. Plus, I’m not really feeling into sweets right now after that soda.” Akechi nodded, understanding why Ryuji would be hesitant. As Ryuji turns to leave, Akechi calls out after him.
“Sakamoto-kun? One more thing.” Akechi squeaked, meeting eyes with Ryuji while holding his phone in one hand. “May I get your contact information? I would like to have dinner with you again… Should the time allow for it.”
“Huh?” Ryuji stammers. “Wh-what for? I-I mean - why?”
“It was nice talking to somebody over food. I can make reservations easily, so if you would like to get together again, I can arrange for an outing ahead of time.” Akechi beams. It’s fake, Ryuji knows it’s fake, but this smile felt different. Among the sea of factory manufactured chemicals that went into that practiced row of teeth and cheek muscles and the stupid shiny skin and complexion, there was genuinity in that smile.
Dude… Are you really...?
‘I’m gonna do it.’
Really, Ryuji? Even I wouldn’t-
‘He needs a friend. Might as well be me. He listened to me, I’ll listen to him too. Plus, no more waiting for steak.’
… Okay, fine. I hope you know what to do when this bites us later.
He couldn’t believe he was pitying Goro Akechi, celebrity who captured the heart of every girl he looked at and was probably loaded out the ass either from fame or his fancy detective job, but here he was.
“Sure. Hand your phone over.” Ryuji gives in. Akechi’s brows rise in satisfaction as he passes his fancy phone over. It was already opened to a new contact page, and Ryuji wastes no time in entering his number and name. Ryuji takes a second while the contact was registering to notice how the phone has no blemishes whatsoever - no cracks, no dents in the silver case, nothing of the sort. How artificial.
“Thank you. I’ll message you later so that you can register me as well.” Akechi crosses his legs, smiling as brightly as ever. Ryuji only nods.
“Later.” He waves goodbye, then heads home.
While holding his bagged takeout box at the exact angle to allow for the food to survive his trip back to Shibuya, he felt a buzz in his pocket. It’s probably Akechi. He waits until some people got off the train at the next stop to snag a pole - being made into a sardine on the train was a mood ruiner - and stuck his hand through the holes in the bag. With a free hand, he grabs his phone from his pocket, pausing a moment to stare at his lock screen. It’s a selfie of him and his friends, complete with Mona in the bag. Ryuji frowns, swiping past the lock screen to see a message from an unknown number.
*** *** ****: Hello? Is this Ryuji Sakamoto’s number? This is Akechi.
Ryuji… almost answers the text seriously before realizing he could mess with the guy a little while he had the chance.
Ryuji: I think you have the wrong number sir, this is Suginami, Ogikubo branch, at the eighteen plus counter. Would you like to purchase a BL novel today?
*** *** ****: Oh no! I apologize! I must have texted the wrong number.
*** *** ****: Though it’s rather strange that you replied considering manga stores don’t tend to have phones that can text.
Damnit.
‘Yeah, didn’t expect any less from a detective prince.’ He thought.
*** *** ****: You must think you’re very funny Sakamoto-kun.
Ryuji: dude, I’m hilarious. shitty dad club.
*** *** ****: Yes, shitty dad club. Have you registered my number?
Ryuji: gimme just a sec.
Ryuji hits the contact info button in the corner and quickly types Akechi’s name in the contact, but pauses when the thought of a joke name passes in his brain. He types the other name in and snaps a screenshot of his hard work to send to Akechi...
Minty Lemon Palate: You seem rather entertained by this.
Ryuji: hell yeah I am.
Minty Lemon Palate: Well, as long as you can remember this is my number, it doesn’t matter to me what name I have in your phone.
Minty Lemon Palate: I texted to remind you before I go to bed.
Ryuji: yayaya
Minty Lemon Palate: Haha
Minty Lemon Palate: Well, goodnight. Text me if you would like to go to dinner again or if you have anything else you would like to talk about. I cannot ensure that I will answer right away due to school, work, or interviews, but I’ll be sure to answer them as I see them.
Ryuji: k
Ryuji: nite
Ryuji felt somehow… lighter with that conversation, the feeling carrying with him all the way home. His mom will feel better, and well.. Ryuji suppose he’d never turn down the chance to help someone else.