Chapter Text
“You seem distracted again, Akechi-kun.”
A soft voice shook him from his thoughts, and Goro looked up, wincing visibly. “Oh... I’m terribly sorry, Togo-chan,” he said. “I haven’t been giving our game the attention it deserves.”
It was a breezy, rainy evening, the kind of night that Goro knew would draw Hifumi to the church, even though it wasn’t one of their regularly scheduled game days. His decision to walk to the church had been largely arbitrary, his mind too preoccupied with his own selfish problems to formulate a reason for his outing, but once he was there, he thought that a game of Shogi would help put his thoughts to rest, at least for an hour or so.
He thought wrong. It was embarrassing how thoroughly Joker occupied Goro’s mind now: Joker’s identity, the true nature of Joker’s feelings for Goro... and likewise, of Goro’s feelings for him. So much so that Goro’s attention had strayed after a scant few turns, and obviously, Hifumi had noticed.
“Does it have to do with the investigation?” she asked, neatening up her idle pieces while she waited for him to take his turn. “It can’t be easy on you…”
Goro shook his head, looking down at the board and hastily choosing to capture one of Hifumi’s pawns with a pawn of his own. “No, it’s not that,” he said. “He’s been thoroughly detained… Sae-san is being especially unforgiving with him. I suspect the Thieves have supplied her with additional evidence; fuel for the fire, so to speak.”
“I’m glad,” Hifumi said. She contemplated the game board for a moment before continuing, “But still, there's something, isn't there? Would it help to talk about it?”
In all honestly, Goro thought he would love to have someone to confide in, someone to help him navigate the social minefield he had fallen into… but there was something holding him back.
“You... you’d make fun of me,” Goro said.
Hifumi raised her eyebrows, her mouth opening just slightly in surprise. “I wouldn’t,” she assured him, and then Goro was able to identify the emotion on her face: she was hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he said, dipping his head in apology. “I know you wouldn’t; it’s just… embarrassing to admit.” He sighed and took a look around the room. The deacon was certainly here somewhere, though he was not in their immediate vicinity. As for other church attendees, the inclement weather had largely driven them away; for all intents and purposes, he and Hifumi were alone tonight. Goro swallowed. “Would you believe me if I told you I have a crush?” he asked.
Hifumi studied his face for a moment, and then dropped her gaze down to the Shogi board, a sign that she was still processing his statement. Goro sat back and waited for her to finish promoting one of the pawns he hadn’t captured, after which she straightened up, looked him dead in the eye, and asked, “Is it on Joker?”
Goro nearly dropped his bishop. “How did you...?”
Hifumi lifted a hand to hide her giggle. “It was mostly a lucky guess,” she admitted. “Out of all the Thieves, he was the one you seemed most interested in. I mean,” she lowered her hand, her eyes narrowing as she gave him a closed-lipped but clearly amused grin, “you haven’t really talked about anyone else these past few months.”
“Is that so?” Goro asked. He felt suddenly very self-conscious. “I apologize for that; it must have been boring for you.”
“No, not at all,” Hifumi said. She shifted anxiously in her seat. “Have… have you told him?” she asked.
Oh, this was going to be impossible. Goro could already feel the tips of his ears burning up; he was going to die of embarrassment before the conversation was over. He looped his arm over the backside of the pew and looked up at the vaulted ceiling, just to take away some of the pressure of a face-to-face conversation. “He knows,” Goro finally decided. “He must. That’s not the trouble. Rather, I’d imagine it’s… I asked him to remove his mask.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Goro could see Hifumi pressing her fingertips together, watching him with rapt attention. “And?” she asked.
“And… I had hoped that at this point, Joker would have felt comfortable revealing his identity to me,” Goro said. “However, it would seem I was wrong.”
“Mm,” Hifumi nodded. “Okay. I think I’m starting to understand.”
“It’s just… embarrassing,” Goro said. “I thought I was on the right track with him, but I was completely off-base, it would seem.”
Hifumi hummed. “I’m not so sure that’s it,” she said. Goro frowned, tilting his head to look at her again, and she continued, “Well, try to consider it from his point of view. He spent all his time getting to know you as Joker, so taking off his mask… it’d be like starting over. That’s scary, isn’t it?” she asked. “I can sympathize. Returning to the amateur Shogi circuit after my mother admitted what she did… it’s like I’m a stranger again.”
“Perhaps you’re right, Togo-chan,” Goro said, though his agreement was only half-hearted. It was true that Joker had seemed scared during their encounter on the roof, scared enough to run away, but Joker seemed like the kind of person who delighted in making waves, so for him to lose confidence all of a sudden was hard to imagine. “I just wish I could contact them again,” he mused, mostly to himself. “A phone number, anything… I should have pushed for it when I had the chance. I suppose it’s too late now.”
Goro busied himself taking another turn, haphazardly trying to go on the offensive, and for a few minutes, Hifumi indulged him, but before long she broke their silence to ask him, “Is this really it? Have you truly exhausted all your avenues to track them down already?” Goro looked at her, and her brow creased. “You’ve known them all for so long now… there must be something they’ve said, something that stands out about one of them.”
“Something they’ve said,” Goro repeated, closing his eyes. For the most part, the Thieves had been understandably cagey with details about themselves, but perhaps as they came to work together with Goro, they had let their guard down somewhat. He combed through his memories of their most recent conversations, not just with Joker but with all the Thieves, when he was struck, at last, by a memory from not that long ago: a conversation between him and Queen.
That man… is the reason we formed the Phantom Thieves in the first place.
Hifumi was so smart, Goro thought. He, on the other hand, was so prone to tunnel vision that he would sometimes forget the obvious – like that he had access to the police’s database of crimes. Something had happened between Shido and Joker – the real Joker – just before the Thieves had formed. Something criminal? It was possible, and if that was the case… there could be a record of it.
“Ah, Togo-chan,” Goro said, with his first unrestrained smile of the evening, “you know, I think you're right.”
Unfortunately, as Goro discovered the next day at work, searching for “Masayoshi Shido” turned up exactly one result – the alleged assault that had just taken place. That was obviously useless, but Goro wasn’t ready to give up yet; Shido would never use his real name on something that could potentially be traced back to him in a negative way. That was something Goro had learned back when he was still living with the man.
Occasionally, when Goro was the one tasked to go and fetch the mail, he would find they had received letters for someone who didn’t live there, usually blank envelopes addressed to a Takeshi Satou. At first he wrote it off as a fluke, but it didn’t take long for Goro to put the pieces together that Satou was Shido – who opened every letter Satou received – that it was nothing more a pseudonym, a perfectly generic name to hide behind and protect Shido’s image.
Goro wasn’t privy to the contents of Shido’s mail, and thought it was possible that Shido had retired the fake name by now, but nonetheless he tried again, searching for “Takeshi Satou” this time. Unsurprisingly, there were now dozens of hits, both full and partial name matches. Tweaking the search conditions, he narrowed it down to only victims, not perpetrators, and then fixed the time frame. He wasn’t sure exactly what to go for, but the Thieves were first active in January and February, so Goro thought any time between November of last year and January of this year would be a good place to look.
He received far, far fewer results with these parameters set – less than a dozen – and Goro thought he was more than willing to read through that many if it meant potentially uncovering Joker’s identity.
The first few cases were useless; either the criminals were far out of the correct age demographic, or the crime didn’t fit. In the fourth case, however, Goro found something promising. It had been December 31st, 11:38pm, late into New Years’ Eve. An assault had taken place, with Shido – sorry, Satou – as the victim, roughly shoved to the ground by a high schooler (and Goro was sure that was precisely what had taken place).
Such a minor crime, one in which Shido hadn’t even been gravely injured if the hospital report was to be believed, and yet the student had been put on probation, forced to leave his hometown. That did sound like the kind of over-reaction Shido would make to a perceived slight against him. As for the assailant, it was…
Ah.
Goro sat back in his chair. Now, he couldn’t jump to conclusions. He didn’t know for sure if this case even involved Shido, but the timeline, the ages, the order to move suddenly to Shibuya… everything lined up. This has to be him, was what his detective’s intuition was telling him.
Goro got up.
Suddenly, he was craving coffee.
It was nice to have a cup of coffee in his hands, Goro thought. It was easier to hide his stares that way.
It was so fucking obvious now. No wonder the Thieves had been so insistent on meeting incognito, even in private; if Goro had even so much as suspected Kurusu before now, he thought he would have seen past the mask instantly.
And how? How could Joker have truly thought Goro wouldn’t like him, when his other self was Akira? Goro was almost angry about it. For his part, Kurusu seemed to be studiously avoiding prolonged conversation with Goro, which was telling in and of itself, a departure from his usual behavior.
Goro sipped thoughtfully on his coffee and watched Kurusu out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps he should just walk up to Kurusu and tell him, lay it all out on the table… but, Goro wondered, could he really confront Kurusu in front of Sakura-san? That would be unbearably embarrassing for all parties, he suspected, and although there was plenty of proof to the contrary, there was a nagging worry in the back of his mind that perhaps he had been misreading this whole situation from the beginning… the threat of even semi-public humiliation was enough to give him pause.
There was something else, though. Goro thought. The Thieves were undoubtedly a close-knit group, so any acquaintances of Kurusu’s could be potential Thieves, as well. He looked around the café, which contained mostly elderly couples at this time of day, and now that he thought about it, Goro wasn’t sure he had ever seen many people in Leblanc that he would peg as Kurusu’s friends. There was the shy red-head, Futaba-chan, but her hair was so distinct, and Goro didn’t remember any of the Thieves with a look quite like that. Thinking back, the only other person around high school age that he’d seen in Leblanc was Makoto Niijima.
That was a name he had certainly considered before, and with Joker’s identity come to light, Goro thought it was more likely than ever before. And if Niijima-chan was a Phantom Thief, then…
There was a way. He knew. He knew how he could contact the Phantom Thieves, and how he could get an insider opinion, from someone who knew Joker and Kurusu alike. He drained the last of his coffee, set his payment down on the bar, and left without so much as a goodbye. It was Friday, late afternoon – too late for Shujin Academy to be open still? Almost certainly… He recalled that Makoto sorted the request box on Sunday, so unless Goro wanted to wait an entire week, he would have to sneak into the school tomorrow.
With the added pressure of a time limit, Goro found himself up late into the night, staring down a blank index card under the light of his desk lamp. In the end, he wasn’t terribly satisfied with what he came up with, but he could explain himself more eloquently in person. For the time being, he needed something that would grab the other Thieves’ attention, and he thought this would certainly do the job.
The next day, he made his way to Shujin early in the morning, before classes had started and with plenty of students still milling about. Under the cover of a crowd, he was able to sneak up to the request box and peer inside. It relieved him to see that there were quite a few slips of paper sitting inside - that meant people were still using the box, which meant that Makoto would likely still be actively checking it.
He took one last look at his note. He had written “Queen” in neat, bold letters on the outside of the envelope, and inside, a request that she read the note in private – a request he could only hope she would follow. After a quick check left and right to ensure there was no one watching, he approached the request box and slipped the envelope through the slot. Before anyone could question him, he was on his way out.
Goro was already regretting his decision by early afternoon. Even thought he knew with absolute certainty that Makoto had not looked at the box, and would not do so until noon tomorrow at the earliest, he couldn’t help but imagine that, what? The Thieves had found his letter and were making fun of him together, that they thought it was simply a prank, or worst of all, that Makoto had never even read the note – and he would have no way of knowing.
By the time Sunday rolled around, Goro was wound so tight he thought the anticipation might literally kill him. Would she even read his note today? He had written an instructions on his note for Queen, but would she even listen to them? He was so drawn into his own mind that he nearly leapt out of his skin when his phone suddenly buzzed loudly against his desk.
He scrambled to pick it up, and found two text messages greeting him.
>>Unknown Number: Hello.
>>Unknown Number: Am I speaking to Crow?
Goro had been too shy to leave his own name on his message, not to mention he worried that Queen and the others might not take him seriously if he did, and so he’d taken a page out of the Thieves’ own book and signed the note with his phone number and a codename.
>>Goro: You are.
>>Unknown Number: Huhuhuhu~
>>Unknown Number: I am Oracle, of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.
Aha, of course. Goro smiled; who else would handle electronic communications but their resident hacker?
>>Oracle: We have received your message.
>>Oracle: You understand that you’ve given us reason to find you suspicious, right?
>>Goro: I assumed that would be a risk, yes.
>>Goro: May I ask if you followed my request?
There was a long pause.
>>Oracle: For now, we have done as you asked.
>>Oracle: However, we reserve the right to inform our Leader if we come to suspect you are trying to harm our cause.
Goro felt his shoulders relax.
>>Goro: Thank you.
>>Oracle: Before we proceed further, we need to meet you in person.
>>Oracle: Can you meet tonight?
The sun was nearly set, low enough that the trees around him were casting long shadows, and Goro was starting to learn that perhaps he was not as patient of a person as he always considered himself to be. At work, the time spent waiting for someone else to supply him with a piece of evidence or an important document made for a nice respite in an otherwise hectic day, but tonight he was restless, alternating between staring at the ground and staring out into space, searching for even a hint of movement among the dark foliage.
“Akechi-kun?”
If he hadn’t been expecting it, the sudden call would have surprised him. Goro looked up. Across the path, he saw Queen step out from behind a tree, her figure partly muddled by the twilight. She took a few cautious steps out of the woods, taking a quick look around the immediate vicinity.
“This isn’t a trap,” she said, slowly.
Goro shook his head.
“So then,” Queen said, having drawn close enough now that when she pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket and held it out to Goro, he could take it from her without getting up, “this is from you?”
The envelope was gone, leaving only the index card, and Goro found his own writing staring back at him:
“I write this message to Queen and the other Thieves, sans Joker.
Please, I need your help.
I want to steal Joker’s heart.
Crow”
He handed the card back to Queen and nodded, “Yes.”
Queen shook her head, but she was smiling gently. “Hmm. Seems you were right, Panther.”
A cheerful giggle sounded out somewhere behind Goro’s head. He whipped around, but in the growing darkness he couldn’t see where Panther was hiding. “I told you I have a sixth sense for these things, didn’t I? Up here, Akechi-kun.”
Panther was perched up in a tree about five feet above Goro’s head, swinging her legs gently over the edge of the branch. She waved at him, and he smiled weakly. When had she gotten up there? He thought he had been hypersensitive to sounds, but he didn’t hear her at all… he glanced briefly to his side. “Where are the others?” he asked.
“Fox and Skull are with Joker,” Queen said, “keeping him distracted. We didn’t want to risk having him catch on to us before we had the chance to verify your identity.”
“And Oracle?” Goro asked.
“She… doesn’t really go out much,” Panther said, while Queen took a seat on the bench beside Goro.
“Not to skip past the pleasantries, but there are a few things I need to ask you about,” Queen said, turning so that she could face Goro directly. “Now, when you said steal his heart… I’m guessing you’re using it in a different context that we did with Kamoshida.”
“Mm,” Goro nodded and produced the calling card Joker had sent him, which was gently worn around the edges from time spent in his pocket. “He sent me a card with similar wording before,” he said, handing it off to Queen. “That was my model.”
“Oh, I remember that!” Panther chirped, and then Goro heard a heavy rustling noise, following by a loud thud as Panther dismounted from the tree and propped herself up, leaning over the back of the bench to look at Goro. “Soo what’s up? Have you kissed?” she asked.
“P-panther, please!” Queen exclaimed, startled and twisting around to fix Panther with an indignant stare.
“What? I’m just trying to figure out where we’re standing,” she replied.
“We, um…” Goro coughed, cleared his throat. “We have,” he said.
“Aww,” Panther cooed, and Goro was thankful it was dark enough that she wouldn’t be able to see the color of his face, because this was going to be even harder than talking to Hifumi. If there was any consolation, it was that Queen seemed just as flustered by the conversation as he was, though Panther plowed on without a second thought. “Okay, so have you, like, talked to him?” Panther then asked. “I mean, you’ve kissed, right? So obviously he’s at least sorta into it.”
“I… I asked him to remove his mask,” Goro said. “And he wouldn’t. I hoped… I thought I had been following his lead, but it seems I made a misstep.”
“Ohh, okay. Okay, I gotcha,” Panther said, her tone dropping somewhat. She and Queen exchanged a look. A few silence seconds ticked by, and Goro wondered if there was some secret code between the Thieves, not just in terms of conversation, but regarding actions as well… Perhaps asking one of them to remove their mask was a grave breach of trust.
At last, Queen turned to him and said, “I almost feel silly asking, but… Akechi-kun, you’ve discovered Joker’s identity, haven’t you?”
Was that a trick question? Goro searched Queen’s face for a hint, but he found her as difficult to read as ever. He had reached out to her in good faith, though, and so he had to believe that her question was honest, as well. “I believe I have,” he said.
Queen kept him pinned down with a sharp gaze and added, “And mine as well, isn’t that right?”
Goro froze. “I… I have a theory,” he admitted.
“The way you chose to contact us made me think you might,” Queen said. Thankfully, despite her serious demeanor, she didn’t seem unhappy; if anything, she seemed… impressed?
Goro allowed himself to lean back against the bench, laughing softly to himself. “It’s funny… have we had a single honest conversation in all the times we’ve met, Niijima-chan?” he asked.
Behind him, Panther whistled. “That’s incredible! Do you know who I am, too?” she asked.
“I – I’m afraid not. Queen and Joker are the only two,” Goro said, and Panther made a disappointed noise.
“You’re quite clever,” Queen said. “No wonder my sister speaks so fondly of you.” Goro looked to her in time to see her lift one hand and grasp the sides of her mask, pushing in gently and sliding the item off her face. As though a light fog had lifted, the face staring back at him was now undeniably Makoto Niijima’s.
“Woah! Okay? We’re doing this? All right,” Panther said, a look of shock briefly passing over her face before she shrugged, and then she too removed her mask, while simultaneously letting her hair out of a tight bun. Curtains of blonde hair fell into frame around her face and she grinned, sticking a hand out in Goro’s direction. “I guess we gotta do this again now, so hey! I’m Ann Takamaki.”
Goro accepted her hand and shook. “Good to meet you, Takamaki-san,” he said, and Ann released his hand, leaning way over the park bench and groaning.
“Ugh, you don’t haveta be like that!” she said. “It’s not like we’re strangers.”
“Takamaki…chan?” Goro tried again.
“Okay, okay,” Makoto said, holding her hand up before Ann could reply. “It’s cold, you guys, and we are here for a reason, remember?” Ann nodded, pulling herself out of her dramatic slump and hopping onto the bench, sandwiching Goro in between herself and Makoto. “Akechi-kun,” Makoto said, “What is your goal regarding Akira-kun?”
Goro swallowed. It felt selfish to say he wanted Akira, wanted his attention, his trust, for him to reciprocate Goro’s feelings as well… it felt like something he wasn’t allowed to ask for. “I… want to get through to Kurusu,” he finally decided. “I’m realizing that perhaps I don’t know as much about him as I thought. But as for why I contacted you, I suppose I wanted reassurance that I wasn’t… imagining things.” He sighed. “You know him the best. What would you do, in my situation?”
“I don’t think you’re imagining things,” Ann said, while she gathered up some of her loose hair into a pigtail. “Akira’s definitely interested in you. I don’t think he’d react badly if you told him you already know who he is.”
“I have to agree,” Makoto said. “If it’s permission you’re looking for, please consider it given.”
“That is reassuring,” Goro said, but not what I’m looking for, he thought. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees, closing his hands over his mouth. After a moment, he parted his fingers and said, quietly: “I don’t know how.”
“Ohh,” Ann said, the sound of dawning realization in her tone. “I got it.” Goro looked at her sideways, and could tell her energy level was rising by the second. She was sitting up straight, her hand clenched in a triumphant fist. “No, I got it – I know what we can do," she continued. "It’ll be great. We’ll help you!”
“Ann,” Makoto said, meant as a warning, but Ann quickly shushed her.
“No, listen – don’t worry. I know this’ll work.” Smiling brightly, she placed a hand on Goro’s shoulder and with light, mischievous eyes, asked, “Akechi-kun, can you cook?”
When he came to a halt outside the apartment door, a fuzzy string of anxiety curled its way through Goro’s stomach and into his throat. He looked down at the gently rumpled paper in his hand and double checked, but he was definitely in the right place – this was Takamaki’s apartment. Just as he was knocking on the door, Goro realized he could hear the sounds of muffled conversation coming from the other side of the wall.
Moments later, the door was wrenched open. “Hey, you’re here! All right!” Ann said, smiling a sunny smile and propping the door open, inviting him to come in. It was her parents’ place, she had told him the other day when she gave him the address, but they were out of town for the time being, so it was the perfect place to carry out her plan.
As for what that plan was, Goro didn’t have a clue – Ann had left it up to him to speculate – but as she led him through the living room and into the kitchen, he was starting to get an idea.
Goro wasn’t expecting the crowd. Makoto was there, of course, but it seemed Ann had decided to invite all the Thieves to this… whatever this was. Bowls and measuring cups and utensils of all kinds littered the countertops, cabinets had been left open to retrieve ingredients without bothering to replace them, and of course, there was the smell, light and sugary, hanging in the air. It was hot, too, despite the cold weather, and Goro suspected the oven must have been on for quite some time before he had arrived.
“Ah, I’m glad you made it,” Makoto said, wiping her hands on a dish towel and stepping away from the counter to come greet him. “I’m sorry we started without you.”
“It’s no trouble,” Goro said, waving his hand. He took a moment to survey the room. In a far corner, Goro could see the back of a young man with bleached-blonde hair, presumably Skull, but perhaps the most surprising attendee was Futaba-chan, who was crouched on a barstool, aggressively stirring something in a large bowl. She looked up at him, waggled her fingers in greeting, and then immediately returned to her task. “So, this is everyone, is it?” Goro asked.
“Yep,” Ann said. “Well, everyone except the obvious.”
The final Thief, who had been crouched low and hyper-focusing on a pastry in front of him when Goro arrived, stood up enough that Goro could see his face. “You too, Kitagawa-kun?” he asked.
Yusuke took a moment to process that the statement had been directed at him, and then his eyes went wide. “I – I apologize,” he said. “I did not intend to deceive to you; however…”
“It’s fine,” Goro said, cutting him off. “I’m simply surprised, that’s all.”
His eyes drifted and Goro noticed a set of paintbrushes sitting on the counter beside the spatulas. He could see now that Yusuke was holding a brush in his hands, using it to delicately fleck frosting onto a sugar cookie; the brushes must have been his doing.
“Then the only person you wouldn’t know is Ryuji,” Makoto said, pointing out the blonde boy Goro had noticed earlier. “I’m surprised,” she added. “You’ve met so many of us.”
“Mm,” Goro nodded, but the anxiety from earlier was worming its way back into his stomach. This was all well and good, but he was still feeling clueless as to why he was here, when for all intents and purposes it seemed to be a Phantom Thief hang-out session. “So… Takamaki-chan,” he began, “Forgive me, but… what exactly did you intend for me to do today?” he asked.
As if she only just remembered the inspiration for this whole affair, Ann’s face brightened up into a wide smile, and she clasped her hands together. “You’re gonna make chocolates! To give to Akira, of course,” she explained. “And here’s the thing,” she added in a low voice, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close, “We’ll get you a box, and label it for Akira, okay? But then you can give it to Joker. Two birds with one stone, right?”
Ah, so that was it. Well, it would be a way to handle both of Goro’s problems, to tell Akira that Goro knew his secret identity, and to reveal his feelings all at once. “And… and you’re certain this is a good idea?” he asked.
“Totally,” Ann replied, already off and making her way across the kitchen to bowl that Ryuji had been using. “Akira loves this kind of stuff. You know he works at a flower shop sometimes?”
Goro didn't exactly understand the connection there, but decided to let it go.
“Why chocolate though?” Ryuji said, craning his head around to join the conversation. “S’not like it’s even close to Valentine’s Day…”
“It doesn’t matter!” Ann replied, gently whapping him with a wooden spoon. “If you’re gonna confess to someone, you have to make them chocolate. That’s like… classic.”
“I can confirm that,” Futaba called out. She was now in the process of spooning something out of her bowl into muffin tins. “Homemade chocolate is definitely, 100% a confession must-have.”
“All right then,” Goro said, still feeling a bit apprehensive. He watched as Ann dipped a finger into the bowl from which Ryuji had stepped away, and she swiped out a bit of melted chocolate that she quickly stuck in her mouth. After a few moments of contemplative tasting, she frowned.
“It’s not sweet enough,” she declared.
“Yeah?” Ryuji asked, half-yelling at her from the sink. “I was just followin’ the recipe…”
“Hmm…” Ann leaned over the printed-out recipe Ryuji had been using and looked it over. Unsatisfied, she shook her head. “Why don’t we add some more sweet cream?”
“A’ight,” Ryuji said, quieter now as he returned to Ann’s side. “Wait, won’t that, like, fuck with the consistency or something?”
“Um… we can just add more cocoa powder too?” Ann guessed.
“But that’s the shit that’s makin’ it bitter!” Ryuji said. “Look, let’s just add in more powdered sugar and like… a little cream in case it gets all dry or something.”
“Right!” Ann said, bounding off to retrieve the powdered sugar from the pile of ingredients.
At the same moment, a piercing shriek drew Goro’s attention to the other end of the room, where Futaba had just finished placing her cupcakes in the oven and was returning to her spot at the counter.
“Why’d you decorate my cookies?” Futaba asked, all but glaring daggers at Yusuke. “I had big plans for those!”
Yusuke looked up at her, down to the confections in front of him, and back again, blinking at her slowly. “These are yours?” he asked, so innocently that Goro thought there was no way he could be lying; no one could be that good at acting clueless. “I… I must have gotten so absorbed in my task that I lost track of my canvas.”
“Ugh, that doesn’t make any sense!” Futaba said, throwing her hands up in the air. “But fine, whatever, just let me decorate yours instead, ‘kay?”
“W-wait!” Yusuke exclaimed, grabbing the edge of the tray that Futaba was pulling away. “You can’t, I—“
“Oh c’mon, fair’s fair,” Futaba said, sticking out her tongue.
Goro found that the chaos in the room was oddly charming, in a way; he’d rarely had the chance to experience such a casual get-together with friends, to the point that it was almost intimidating. He thought he should take a step further into the kitchen, but couldn’t for fear of trespassing on some special moment between the Thieves.
“Um,” Makoto said, coming up beside him and gently tapping his arm, “would you like me to help you get started, Akechi-kun?”
It was as if she could sense exactly how he felt, and he smiled gratefully at her. “That would be wonderful, Niijima-chan. Please.”
Goro followed Makoto to a spot she had cleared away and showed him a recipe for tempering chocolate – a recipe that had already been used today, if the chocolate-smudge fingerprints were anything to go by. With Makoto’s permission, Goro set about preparing to make his chocolate. The longer he was in the kitchen, listening to the friendly banter between the Thieves, he found himself slowly relaxing. Maybe this was a good idea. If nothing else, he was having an enjoyable afternoon.
At Makoto’s urging, he prepared both milk and dark chocolate varieties, and while he was tending the pots to ensure a smooth melt, Makoto left to fetch something from the refrigerator. She returned with a sealed container which, when uncovered, held some kind of gooey chocolate.
“I made this last night,” she said. “It’s a coffee-flavored ganache. I think Akira would enjoy it, if you wanted to use it in some of your chocolates.”
Goro picked up a spoon and sampled a small bit of the ganache. The bitter coffee flavor was offset by smooth, rich chocolate, and Goro was surprised to find that – sweet as it was – he rather enjoyed the flavor.
“It’s delightful,” he said to Makoto. “I’d love to use it.”
For his chocolates, he eventually decided on using some small heart-shaped molds, which were cute but not obnoxiously so (unlike the tray of molds shaped like kitty-cat heads, which he could see sitting off to the side, half-filled with cooling chocolate already) and which would, hopefully, leave no question as to what kind of present this was intended to be.
With Makoto’s assistance, he carefully poured the melted chocolate, spooning a bit of coffee ganache into about half of them, and then there was nothing to do but wait for the chocolates to set. Goro was surprised but not displeased at how enthusiastic the Thieves seemed to be about helping him, even Ryuji, who still seemed a bit cool towards Goro, although he may have simply been excited for an excuse to make sweets.
Within an hour, Goro was leaving Ann’s apartment with a small present box full of his nicest-looking chocolates, and somehow the group had convinced him that tomorrow had to be the day – lest the chocolates go stale.
>>Futaba Sakura: Okay, Akira’s on the move! He’ll be there soon.
>>Futaba Sakura: Go get’em! ≧∇≦
Goro smiled faintly at his phone and stored it away. His cheeks were no doubt rosy pink by now – from the cold, of course, and nothing else – and he adjusted his scarf accordingly, but found it left him feeling hot around the neck.
He ambled slowly through the park, present box in hand, with no real destination in mind, his heart beating quick with anticipation. Futaba said Joker was on his way, but was he, really? Would he come? If he did, would he even accept Goro’s gift? The Thieves seemed convinced that Akira would love it, but what if it came off as insincere or trite?
Goro didn’t have the chance to finish formulating his worst-case scenario before he heard someone approaching, soft footsteps crunching over dead leaves. Goro kept his eyes forward, did not slow his pace, but held onto the box just a little bit tighter.
Whoever it was did not reveal themselves immediately, and so Goro walked for just a bit longer before he paused, off to the side of a path, and pretended to check his phone for something. More crunching, and then Goro could just see someone come into sight in his peripheral vision.
“Hmm?” the newcomer hummed curiously, and Goro at last allowed himself to look up, and as expected, Joker was there, dragging his hand along the trunk of a tree and altogether doing his best to look nonchalant. His outfit was certainly more casual than Goro was used to, dark wash jeans and a jacket and a nice red scarf around his neck. He tugged the scarf down from over his mouth and smiled.
“I’m surprised to see you here, detective,” Joker said, and Goro had to bite down on his tongue to avoid laughing; it was almost too much to see Joker try to play off their meeting here as some chance encounter, when Goro knew nothing could be further from the truth. Goro put his phone away and then shifted the box so he was holding it with both hands again, which caught Joker’s attention immediately. “What’ve you got there?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Ah…” Goro could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He was ready, he was preparing for this, and yet he felt like his throat was closing up almost immediately. It was so nice that the Thieves had put so much faith in Goro, set up this whole plan for him, and here he was, about to completely blow it.
Yet Joker did not seem deterred by Goro’s non-response. If anything, it seemed to spur him on, and he drew a little closer, barely an arm’s length away. “A present?” he asked, his smile turning decided more teasing than it was before. “Is it for me?”
Goro flushed. Technically the answer was “no”, but that wasn’t the whole truth either, and he didn’t want Akira to get the wrong idea. He managed to swallow and put on a small smirk of his own, fighting down his insecurities. “Awfully presumptuous of you, isn’t it?” he asked, hoping his voice came off as playful and not just as strained as he felt.
It seemed to work. “Well, you didn’t say I was wrong,” Joker countered. “If not me, then who?”
Goro watched Joker’s face, and while his smile remained, Goro saw the cheerful expression leave his eyes for just a moment. He was acting cool and laid-back, but was that proof that Joker was actually worried? If so, then it would be cruel to drag this out; Goro didn’t have the heart. He transferred the present to one hand, which he extended out and offered to Joker.
“…see for yourself,” Goro said.
It caught Joker by surprise, so much so that it took him a moment to accept the present. For a moment he looked it over, and Goro’s eyes darted back and forth, too nervous to watch Joker’s expression, but too anxious to look anywhere else. Then Joker found the nametag and flipped it over, and even from where he was standing, Goro could still see where he had penned the name “Akira Kurusu”. Joker went stiff.
“Akechi,” Joker began to say, but before he could finish, Goro stepped forward, raising his hands to Joker’s mask. With Joker’s hands full holding the present box, he had no way to keep Goro from carefully lifting the item off of Joker’s face, at last unveiling Akira’s face.
Goro lowered his arms, holding loosely on to the mask. He thought for a moment his heart had stopped completely, or maybe everything had stopped, given how Akira was standing so still. Instead of a mask, now his eyes were framed by unruly black curls, and Goro was struck by how deep grey they were, how much they stood out when they weren't hidden by a pearl-white mask.
Akira’s mouth opened in wordless surprise. He looked down at the present box and back to Goro again before he could manage to formulate a thought. “You… you knew,” Akira said.
“I learned,” Goro said. He handed the mask back to Joker, placing it on top of the present, unable to suppress a nervous laugh as he did. “You truly thought I wouldn’t like you like this, Kurusu-kun?” he asked.
A puff of air left Akira’s throat, but some of the life seemed to come back to him now that the shock had worn off. He took Joker’s mask and stored it away in one of his jacket pockets. “It’s just, compared to Joker, I’m…” he shrugged, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Y’know. Boring.”
“There’s no world in which I’d call you boring, Kurusu,” Goro said. Akira went back to not responding, his cheeks having turned a lovely shade of pink, which was certainly endearing to Goro. He nodded towards the present box that remained unopened in Akira’s hands. “Come on now,” Goro said. “I spent a long time on this… it’d be a shame if you didn’t at least open it.”
A look of surprise crossed Akira’s face, like he had completely forgotten he was holding something in the first place. He didn’t need any more prompting, however, and he slipped a finger under the lid and carefully opened the box. His eyebrows shot up when he discovered its contents.
“Did you make these?” Akira asked, taking one of the chocolates and popping the entire thing into his mouth in one go.
“I did,” Goro replied, trying to decide what the hell he was supposed to do with his hands in a situation like this, something that wouldn’t make him look like a complete fool.
“It’s so good,” Akira said, still halfway through chewing the chocolate.
“Don’t sound so surprised…” Goro mumbled, finally decided to cross his arms lightly over his chest.
“Hey,” Akira said, having finished his chocolate now. He closed the box and stuffed it halfway into his empty jacket pocket, which allowed him to step close and take Goro’s face in both his hands, one cupping his cheek and the other coming to rest just under his chin. Then he was pressing a soft kiss against Goro’s lips, and the last thread of nervous energy in Goro’s body dissolved away. His eyes fluttered shut and he reached out to grasp lightly at Akira’s jacket, leaning in and returning the kiss, the first kiss of theirs that he felt no shame in completely enjoying.
When Akira broke away, he remained close enough that their noses were practically touching. “Thanks,” Akira said. “I love it.” Goro could barely believe he was here, Akira's physical presence the only thing keeping him grounded, and oh, he must have been blushing fiercely now, because Akira’s smile was turning into a playful smirk. “You’re cute,” Akira said sliding a hand up from Goro’s cheek to tangle in his hair. That was too much for Goro, who immediately pitched forward until his face was buried against Akira’s shoulder.
“Hey now,” Akira laughed gently, pushing aside some of Goro’s hair to kiss his exposed neck. “What’re you so shy for? You confessed to me. Don’t you think I’m the one who should be acting all demure?”
This, at least, got Goro to laugh. He pulled himself upright again, and he let go of Akira’s jacket in favor of letting his hands slide down and around Akira’s waist. “I’m sorry we can’t all be as suave as you, Joker,” Goro said.
“That’s true,” Akira replied, pulling Goro forward into another kiss. He let this one linger, and Goro pressed his hand against the small of Akira's back, holding him close and relishing the feeling of Joker's lips sliding against his, the culmination of months of wanting, hoping for something just like this.
“Listen,” Akira said when they parted, a hint of breathlessness in his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I was just… I don’t know, I–“
Goro brought a hand to Akira’s cheek and let his thumb rub over his chin, silencing his excuses. “It’s fine,” Goro said. “I know you had your reasons."
“You're too good for me," Akira said, shaking his head. He kissed Goro one last time before he stepped back, Goro's arms falling back to his side. "Come to Leblanc with me?” Akira asked. He was already pulling the present box out of his pocket again. “I like to enjoy my sweets with coffee.”
The distance between them as they walked felt especially cold after standing so intimately close together, but the way Akira grabbed Goro’s hand and laced their fingers together as they walked chased all his anxieties away.
The night of sleep that Goro had that evening was one of the more fitful he’d had in a while. No doubt the day’s events had worn him out; by the time he returned home from an afternoon at Leblanc – and later, in Leblanc’s attic – with Akira, he’d been tired enough that he did little more than make dinner and prepare for bed.
Goro rarely dreamed, but tonight he did. He was taking a walk down a lonely street, running his hand along a brick retaining wall. Was it late? It must have been, as the moon was out, but the hazy pink color of the sky made him think twice. He kept walking, until something told him to stop. At first he thought it was just instinct, but no, something had really said “stop” to him. He looked around for the source of the voice, but only found a black and white cat sitting on top of the brick wall.
The cat looked down at Goro, tilting his head to the side. He opened his mouth and words came out.
“Hey, why’re you sleeping in? You’ve got work to do!”
Then the cat winked at him, and Goro woke up.
When Goro woke up, he felt something resting on his chest... not as heavy as a cat would be, but noticeable all the same. He sat up and something rolled off his chest and fell into his lap. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he picked the object up and studied it. Cherry-red and sporting an exceptionally long nose, he couldn't describe the item as anything other than a mask.