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“How are you?”
Three words that he had hardly ever been asked, particularly in the last two years. After all, no one really cared how an abandoned child felt anyways. Unless, of course, he expressed those emotions in any way deemed unsightly. Then they cared. Then they cared with their fists or their palms or the tips of their toes into his stomach. Then they cared with their locked doors and their loud words. But he knew they never truly cared about how he felt underneath his smiley, phony surface.
Even when they had been asked, it had all been manners. They asked how he felt, but only because they felt it was expected. If he truly told them how he felt, they recoiled, shock evident in their eyes and smiles pulled thinly across boney faces, faux concern threading their brows. So, he learned. He learned how to spread his own thin smile across his face as if it were butter to toast, laugh when he thought expected and sigh at the same things others did. After all, he found it was much easier to please than to be honest.
However, someone decided to throw a wrench in his plan. And of course it had to be Kurusu.
Kurusu with his weird talking cat. Kurusu with his way too fluffy hair. Kurusu with his glasses that he didn’t even need. Kurusu with his pale skin, his long lashes, his breathy laugh, his light pink blush his-
Kurusu pulled apart cracks in his plan he didn’t even know existed. The first crack, discovering the metaverse by complete coincidence. The next one, changing a heart. Another one, making Akechi aware of another one like himself. And the largest crack in the bunch - actually hanging out with Akechi.
Kurusu was the first to ask Akechi how he was feeling and to want a truthful answer.
Akechi laughed in a way that always pleased the show hosts and their audiences. “I’m doing fine. Investigations have been a tad difficult, but that's nothing I can’t handle. Why do you ask?”
Kurusu frowned, clicking his tongue. “Really though, how are you? Be honest with me. Please.”
Akechi’s eyes widen minutely, smile falling for just a second before being plastered on once again. “I was honest, Kurusu.” He looked to the side, mimicking being bashful, before tacking a question on. “Why do you always doubt me so much?”
Kurusu moves closer to him, the sheets on his bed shuffling under his hands and the crates creaking underneath his weight - which really wasn’t a lot, these crates were really crappy. Akechi shuffled himself farther away from him, nearing the end of the bed. Kurusu sighed, “I’ve known you for quite a few months now, Akechi. I like to think I know you a little better than you think I do.” Kurusu reached a hand out, covering about half of the distance between both of them.
Akechi crossed his legs, posing his hands on top of his knees, a comfortable distance away from Kurusu’s. “I’m afraid I do not know what you’re implying Kurusu.”
“I’m implying that you aren’t actually fine, Akechi.” Kurusu looked over at him, hair falling over his eyes and behind his glasses.
Akechi frowns, eyebrows scrunched together, only slightly turning his head. His television laugh came out again, mouth lifting in that fake smile and all the tension that had gathered in the one second forcibly melted away. “Well that’s a bit silly, don’t you think? Why wouldn’t I be fine?”
Kurusu’s frown deepened, wrinkling his forehead. “I don’t think it’s silly. It’s only natural to be worried about how a friend feels. Of course, I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling at the moment, but I can at least tell you that you’re lying now. So please, tell me how you really feel.” He tries to move a tad closer, lifting himself up onto his fingers and lightly swinging his uniform-clad body.
Akechi pushes himself even further away from Kurusu, the right side of his hips on the edge of the mattress. “And why should I tell you what I’m feeling, Kurusu? Why should you be the person I am honest with?” He tucked a lock of hair behind his ears whilst he said this, recomposing himself to his prior position after moving over.
Kurusu reached a hand out again, crossing over half the distance between them yet again. “Because I care, Akechi. Over the few months we've been around each other I’ve grown to really like you. I really like spending time with you and I want to get to know you better, if only you would let me.” Kurusu brought up his left hand - the one not reaching out - and took off his glasses, folding them up with a click before setting them down on the shelves that were near his bed. He looked back up at Akechi, eyes honest and open, filled with care and concern.
Akechi pulled his eyes away to stare at his knees. His eyes grew slightly watery with unshed tears, and he reached a hand up to scrub them away with the scratchy fabric of his own uniform jacket. His face pulled into a frown, mentally belittling himself for his reaction.
Kurusu stretched his right hand out, moving closer to Akechi for a third time. The outstretched hand pasted itself to Akechi’s cheek, chilling his face. Kurusu put his other hand out, landing on the other side of Akechi’s face. He stroked the skin under his eyes with his thumb, looking into Akechi’s widened eyes with his own calm ones. Kurusu had a soft smile, one that could light up millions of galaxies.
Akechi brought up his own gloved hands, covering Kurusu’s with his own. Kurusu’s smile widened, eyes growing softer by the second. Akechi let his own eyes relax, lidded and soft. Kurusu moved closer, kneeling so that he was a few centimeters above Akechi. Akechi slipped his boney fingers under Kurusu’s hands, pulling his warmth away from his face. Kurusu’s smile fell, and looking disappointed he started to move back.
“Kurusu, stay right where you are.” Akechi demanded. Kurusu’s eyes widened, frown melting off in favor of confusion. Akechi turned his own body like Kurusu had prior, moving so that they were facing each other, grabbing the hands that had fallen from his face and placing them right back where they were. Another smile graced Kurusu’s face, just as soft as the first one. His thumbs resumed their task of smoothing the skin under his eyes. Akechi’s eyes slid closed, comforted by the soft pads of Kurusu’s fingers.
The crates creaked, Akechi’s eyes sliding open just enough to see what caused the sound. Kurusu was closer than he remembered, eyes barely open and lips parted, inching in closer towards Akechi’s face. His eyes widened as he realized what Kurusu was trying to do, and their lips met, Kurusu’s slotting over Akechi’s. Akechi looked up at Kurusu, who was angling the face in his hands up so their lips could actually be connected.
He was hesitating, Akechi could tell. Just as Kurusu claimed he knew a few of Akechi’s tells, Akechi knew a few of Kurusu’s. The way his hands clenched, becoming a tad clammy. The way his eyes scrunched up just a bit too much to be considered relaxed. Akechi’s eyes softened minutely when he realized this, internally smirking at this uncharacteristic show. He brought his own hands up, one for the back of Kurusu’s neck the other for his hair, pulling him in just a tad closer.
Kurusu leaned into their kiss, moving his hands down to Akechi’s hips. He slid a thumb underneath Akechi’s school coat and shirt, swiping his thumb over the skin on Akechi’s hip. Akechi sighed at the action, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Kurusu smiled against Akechi’s lips.
Kurusu pulled away, leaning his head into the crook of Akechi’s neck. Akechi moved one hand down to Kurusu’s hip, the other grabbing the hand that wasn’t hooked underneath his shirt. Kurusu tugged Akechi down so that they were laying down facing each other. “Come on, Akechi, it’s getting late. How about we fall asleep for the night?”
Akechi brought himself chest to chest with Kurusu, nuzzling into his neck. “Call me Goro.” He whispered.
Kurusu brought the hand that wasn’t thumbing at his hip to Goro’s back. “Then call me Akira.”
Akechi smiled at the memory. He brought a hand up to his chest where the bullets were buried, blood thick and sticky pouring out of the wounds. He turned his head over to the thing his fathers fucked up mind created, it smiling insanely back at him. He scowled, its legs dissolving into dust, getting faster and faster with each passing second. His metaverse outfit had long since disappeared, replaced with his school uniform that he had worn in that memory from a few months ago. He truly meant what he said when he wished he and Kurusu could have met sooner. Perhaps, even if it was only a year earlier, he wouldn’t have been stupid enough to fight some of the people who had finally shown him what it might have felt like to truly be loved. His eyes slid shut, and all he could think about was the regret he felt for not becoming a true Phantom Thief. Perhaps then, his death might have been a happier affair.