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The first time Akira Kurusu stayed over, was the first time in his conscious life that Goro Akechi openly cried in front of other people.
It happened one night after he walked into their jazz club, only to see Kurusu and Sumire together. Goro scoffed, “Of course he's here. And of course he's here with her.”
He knew they were dating, because of course they were.
At first they were fine, he could still fight side by side with them with relatively few issues. Joker managed to stay focused, and she was eager to improve; probably trying not to fall too far from the expectations of her precious senpai. However, that all changed once she did.
Once Sumire, the actual Sumire, returned to their group, Goro could see that Kurusu felt differently. He would often target his infuriating little band of theives with bouts of playful flirtation, (Goro is certain Kurusu’s even slept with Niijima, as he would the fucking slut), but he'd never before allowed himself to become completely vulnerable because of them.
With Sumire however, that wasn’t the case. Kurusu would attempt to throw yet another offhand remark her way, but it was always forced, and awkward. Goro had studied him for months; it's easy to develop a sense for reading a person when you're planning to shoot them in the head. Kurusu’s breathing would stop, his pupils dilate, Goro had even watched him freeze up when simply trying to talk to her. It was an absolutely pitiful display; he was distracted. Even in the midst of battle, his eyes would follow her. Kurusu was always too focused on her.
Kurusu would blow Goro off, trying to justify himself:
"It's nothing more than keeping my eyes on the least experienced team member, I'm just concerned for her safety. You're thinking about this too much, Detective. "
It's true that whilst Goro doesn't have much experience dealing with 'team members', even he knows that showing concern for someone's safety does not involve endlessly staring at that someone's thighs, no matter how alluring they are.
Sumire was also the only person he ever blushed around. Kurusu could maintain that infuriating smirk while receiving flirtatious drivel from the rest of them, but catching Sumire staring at him made him turn pink? Pathetic, Joker.
By the finale of the Metaverse, it had become painfully obvious that they had both fallen for each other. How close they stood together, their lingering touches. How they let their hands bump into each other as they swayed from their fucking giggling at the most inconsequential things. It irritated him to no end, and Goro couldn't wait to leave that fucking group and their bullshit behind.
Hereward chose this moment to break him out of his musings with a smirk:
“You're whining an awful lot for someone who couldn't take his eyes off of them either.”
Goro's eyes sharpened. How could he be blamed? Her grace, which was complimented immensely by her determination, and strength in a fight. She was magnetising, her dances only improving with each brawl. Flashes of her skin, barely covered by her tight leotard and jacket, as she elegantly flipped and spun around their slain foes.
Her moves captivated him even now, staying prominent in his mind, fighting for Goro’s attention, clashing with his thoughts of Kurusu; with his sharp wit and that infuriatingly charming smile. His electrifying personality that kept dragging Goro's focus back, and that aggravating leather vest that clung to his muscular figure and filled Goro with a need to dig his claws in and tear off-
Goro slapped the thought away, jerking himself out of his daze and pleading with Hereward to keep his thoughts to himself.
He should have rid himself of all these persistent desires long ago. They were utterly fruitless; there was no space for him now that they were so wrapped up in their little duo. His time with them was only meant to be temporary anyway, their alliance was brought about through desperation alone. A desperation that ended once they were back in the reality they all wanted: the one without him. He had made peace with being discarded once their time together had run out.
Yet Sumire wouldn't let him go.
They had accidentally run into each other a few days after they had stopped that pathetic excuse for a counsellor. Goro had immediately tried to walk away. It would be better for her to forget anything had happened, better for her to forget him entirely. Instead, against all common sense and embracing the more forceful nature she’d developed during their time together, she rushed after him, pleading for him to stay.
She was distraught. Once she caught up to him, she wouldn't let go of his arm. She looked at him with an intensity he had only ever seen in the moments before she had tried to impale Kurusu, when she was desperately clinging onto the one thing that she held dear.
During that fight, Goro had excused himself: too angry at Maruki in that moment to keep a level head. The betrayal of a child who desperately needed help made Goro sick, angry, and filled him with a desire to rip something's head off its body. As he looked into Sumire's eyes, the exact same desperate grip as she clung to him. The same determination in her eyes, as she held onto him just as she had held onto the last fragments she had of Kasumi. She wasn't going to let him go, she wasn't going to lose him as well . Except now he couldn't blame Maruki. The only thing making her this upset was himself.
Even he couldn’t keep his composure with her like this. The guilt of abandoning her, twisting the knife of losing yet another person she needed, weighed on him as if it were an anchor tied around his leg as he thrashed about in an endlessly deep ocean.
The last time he had felt that heavy involved being on his knees, his arm twisted and bleeding, with tears running down his face, kept hidden behind his mask. Unable to run and get his damn body to just move . Feeling the ground threaten to fall from under him, deliberately loud, daunting footsteps coming up behind him in that engine room.
Weak, insecure, and utterly helpless ; It made him tremble. The more he failed to get her to calm down, the less composed he found himself.
Breath hitching and on the edge of a panic attack himself, he found that he had pulled her aside to the park's most secluded bench: one he'd often found himself requiring as he tried to restore the shreds of his remaining stamina. The last thing either of them needed was someone snapping a picture of a girl sobbing on the former detective prince, yet he settled down beside her and again attempted to bring her down from her hysterics.
The only coherent thing he could get out of her was "thought you were gone". Hearing Sumire break; hearing her stuttered, shattered voice as she cried beside him, Goro was struck with the realisation that nobody else had ever openly cried for him. Goro couldn't remember the sound of his mothers voice, and being passed from one uncaring foster home to the next, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had honestly, openly, and vulnerably cared for him at all. The surge of years of pent up loneliness, desperation, and rage took hold and he broke down alongside her. It took several minutes, and at some point he ended up on the receiving end of a hug that he desperately and distressingly needed her to never break; but they eventually stopped crying.
Apparently Kurusu hadn't been able to bring himself to tell her where Goro had gone, but she had worked it out.
Merely broaching the topic would send Kurusu into a state of panic. Goro tried to pry, wanting to know exactly what state his death had left Kurusu in; but he was only met with a downtrodden Sumire. She wouldn't go into detail, it wasn't her place, but she insisted she'd never seen him that bad.
The exact words and tone she used would be haunting Goro’s nightmares for coming weeks; "It was awful senpai. I've never seen him like that before, so desperate, and angry. I couldn't do anything..."
Goro wouldn't openly admit that the idea of Kurusu being inconsolable after he'd died didn't bring him some sort of joy, but seeing Sumire so violently upset after losing someone else, any guilty pleasure he derived from the situation was lost.
That night was long, Sumire only allowed him to leave once he had given her his new phone number. Minutes after she left, before he could start to second guess himself, or even bring himself to stand up and face the rest of his day, he received a rambling, essay of a text telling him that she “wanted him to realise she needed him in her life, to know she cared for him.”
Days of this went by, arguing back and forth over how involved he would allow himself to be in her life. After that hug in the park, there was no part of him that could continue to deny the fact that he needed someone. Needed her. But that was unfair, she shouldn’t have to deal with him and his issues. She'd finally grasped a chance to step out from underneath her sister’s shadow, move on with her life, and be happy. She shouldn’t have to hold herself back just to make sure he could keep up. He didn’t deserve her, and his presence in her life would simply fuck everything up.
Eventually, due to her sheer unsurmountable determination, coupled with her showing up at his apartment at 11:00pm and refusing to leave until he heard her out, she got him to agree to see each other occasionally, at least once a month. Goro knew he could have resisted her harder but really, he simply couldn't stomach watching her cry again. Usually he'd dismiss such an act as pathetic and annoying, something that showed weakness; but he couldn't manage to feel that way around her.
She was too kind to him. After the initial shock of his true, ruthless personality, she didn’t seem to have any issues with him acting however he wanted. It confused him to no end, how it seemed she felt comfortable around him. She even seemed to trust him, which made absolutely no sense; at the very least considering his recent history of trying to murder the man they were both bound to.
He also enjoyed her company, not that he'd ever admit it out loud. Her passion, her insightfulness, her curiosity, her sense of humour, and the incredible amount of patience she extended to him. It also didn't hurt that she seemed to keep up with him: her position as an honour student certainly wasn’t misplaced. She was brilliantly intelligent, just like Kurusu.
Maybe he understood why Kurusu chose her.
“Surely the detective can work out the rest? She is an amazing gymnast, her personality admirable and she's incredibly beauti-”
He had let his thoughts on Sumire distract him for too long, Hereward had apparently decided to make his presence known yet again. Goro wasn’t really in the mood to discuss things, even with himself, so he tried to fill his retort with as much venom as his mind could muster.
“Will you shut up? Your insolence is making me sick.”
Goro dragged himself out of his thoughts, and shut Hereward away for long enough to walk to the bar and order a drink. His plan was to sit by the band, trying to drown their presence out with the live music he enjoyed relaxing to.
Somehow, he had forgotten: The world hates Goro Akechi.
Only four minutes into his blissful isolation, before Goro’s drink could even arrive, Sumire spotted him and in a near sprint dashed over, with Kurusu trailing behind her.
"H-hello Akechi-Senpai!" she squeaked, her voice breaking not with nerves, but with an excitement that Goro couldn't wrap his brain around. She wrapped her arms around him and smiled. He didn’t protest. He'd never seen her so happy before, even just minutes before when she was alone with him.
Fucking Akira, Mr Daybreak himself. Seeing his infuriatingly cocky grin alone was usually enough to light up Goro's day, like the sun piercing through the cracks and illuminating the darkest corners of a rundown, discarded house. Teasing that smile out of him while they shot their playful banter back and forth never failed to make Goro's heart pound faster in his chest. Somehow, the man brought sunshine back into Goro's life. Still, standing next to him, with her intoxicating smile, her warmth pressed against him as she embraced Goro, Sumire shone brighter than the sun.
Akira and Goro did their usual nod before settling in. He'd allow their company as long as they could keep their hands off each other. He wasn't sure why that would be his tipping point, but if he had to watch them get overzealous in their flirting, by say, holding hands for example, he'd kiss Akira right then and there just to make it uncomfortable enough for them to leave. Goro's not blind, he's aware Akira has some level of romantic attraction to him as, even if he chose to be with her instead.
The first thirty minutes were fine. Pleasant, even. They all enjoyed their drinks, Goro ignored Akira's questioning about why he wouldn't return his calls, and the two fools interrupting his planned evening of brooding joked about how grumpy Goro looked.
Well, Sumire did. She seemed to take a lot of joy mocking him. Occasionally she’d begin holding her hands in the Detective Prince position he stole from Shirogane. If he was being dismissive of their questions, she’d tease him about being shy around them, as if to antagonise him into responding. She had even gone so far as to tell the chips on the table she'd devour them all while laughing like a maniac. Unfortunately, even Goro couldn't deny that it was funny. Akira thought so too, displaying his tantalising yet antagonising smirk, and letting out a small chuckle.
Goro wasn't sure how or why he willingly started participating more in the conversation. But it was pleasant. He actually found himself truly enjoying it, and was struggling to hold back a genuine smile, however small it was. It didn't even occur to him to consider leaving when they inevitably did hold hands.
He hadn't realised how much he was truly enjoying the evening, until reality crashed back into him as the band transitioned into the next set; a slower, softer piece shifting the mood of the room into a less jovial, more intimate atmosphere.
He couldn't help the disappointment flushing through him as he watched other patrons around the room begin to filter out from their seats and onto the dance floor in perfect pairs, a reminder of why he'd always made himself scarce before this part of Jazz Jin's schedule.
He once again became uncomfortably aware of the cold shell around his heart that the infectiously happy attitude of the duo beside him had been ruthlessly eroding. Steeling himself, he crushed the urge to flood the cracks with hard ice and instead let them shift, for once selfishly indulging in the kindling warmth. He let himself just breathe, sharing this first experience with the two most important people in his life. Two people who were not only willing to spend an entire evening in his company, but somehow also enjoyed it.
“Senpai, would you like to dance?” Sumire cheerfully asked, seemingly noticing the dancefloor coming to life. Goro ignored the subsequent stabbing pain in his chest, knowing that this request to monopolise Akira was a sign that their evening as a trio had reached its inevitable conclusion. Shifting to make his leave, all the excuses for his retreat shrivelled on his tongue when her hand landed on his and gently squeezed to recapture his full attention.
"Senpai," she repeated. His roaring pulse almost drowned out her next words as his awareness narrowed down to nothing but the care in her bright eyes and a burning heat that bloomed wherever she slowly brushed her thumb across an exposed patch of skin, "I would really love it if you said yes."
Looking into her empathetic, caring eyes, he found himself too tired to hold back. He let the last of his resistance falter, as he trusted her to guide him onto his feet and towards the dancefloor. He was finally giving into the yearning inside him to become the complete hypocrite he was: a man who wanted to give Sumire every desire she ever had.
Akira watched the two of them get up to dance. Sumire was wearing a large smile that made his heart skip a beat, while Goro looked perplexed. Having watched Goro slowly change from the fake Detective Prince, to this bewildered, angsty man who desperately needed a hug had filled Akira with a desperate yearning. He wanted to wrap his arms around Goro Akechi, and never, ever, let him go.
Instead, he stood aside and watched them together on the floor without him. It caused a sharp pain in his heart to acknowledge, but right now, it was for the best. Goro was simply more open to Sumire, and something about Akira kept him distant. Either he couldn’t accept that Akira genuinely cared about him, or it didn’t matter to him how Akira felt. Irregardless, he seemed to have absolutely no issues with Sumire. Goro was willing to spend time with her, talk with her, lean on her . No matter how hard it made him ache , if she was who Goro needed right now, Akira would swallow his feelings down, and be patient enough to wait for him.
He watched the two of them bow together, as equals. He watched them take their places, and tenderly fold each other in their opposite's arms. He watched them begin to sway as one.
He watched them and choked down a scream.
Three weeks ago, Sumire had shocked him by asking if he was in love with Goro. He'd looked into his partner's eyes, and as much as he wished he could deny it, he knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. He couldn't lie about this. Akira's heart was in two and he was barely holding it together.
So he admitted it. He was in love with his angry, bitter rival. But he also loved her, and Sumire had asked him to keep his eyes only on her, and he promised that's what he was doing. Akira honestly wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
It seemed to make her happy. From then on, in the interests of honesty, Akira decided to tell her about every interaction he and Goro had. Every time he bumped into Goro at the bar he worked at, the 7/11, or the second cafe, she knew. He didn't want to betray her trust, and he thought it would be best to lay everything on the table. Akira showed his hand; he kept nothing hidden up his sleeve.
Every encounter meant another admission, and each admission was met with the same thankful reply, even a reaffirmation that she trusted and loved him. She said that it was okay to have the feelings he did, and she apparently understood how he felt. Akira was still wrapping his mind around what exactly that meant.
As he pushed his glasses up, refocused his gaze: he found them on the dance floor. They twirled with a grace that captivated him, and held his attention. Sumire was the lead. Goro had never danced in his life and it showed.
Compared to her ever present grace, he looked like a clumsy fool, throwing himself around in her arms. Akira couldn't remember having ever seen Goro laughing so genuinely, without a shade of darkness in his eyes. He simply looked happy in her arms. Sumire looked equally as happy to have him there.
It was all Akira could do but try to control his breathing, and still his ever racing heart. He was still keeping his promise. His eyes were on her, they just happened to be together. It was a bullshit excuse and he knew it. Despite her reassurances, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt about his feelings for Goro, and the warmth he felt in his chest while he watched the two together wasn’t as soothing but burned . He channelled Joker's courage and Joker's willpower and pasted on a smile. He made sure to keep watching them, with his eyes on Sumire as much as he could.
After another, dramatic twirl, Goro was brought back into Sumire’s arms, and she held him for a brief moment. As she relaxed her grip, they separated just slightly, still holding each other. Sumire looked around, and soon her gaze met Akira's. As she held Goro, slowing their dance into a sway, her eyes began flickering between Akira and Goro, reading their expressions. Once she found whatever she was looking for, Sumire locked eyes with Akira, smiled, mouthed the words “I love you”.
Then she kissed Goro Akechi.
Goro somehow didn’t hate dancing like this. He was certain that compared to his partner he looked like an absolute buffoon, but he could not bring himself to care. Sumire was soft, and she was warm. She looked to and not down at him as she guided him, and he let himself trust her. He followed her movements; she had him in her arms, and he felt safe. The dim light of the Jazz Jin reflected beautifully in her eyes, masterfully complimenting her red gaze.
Goro didn't truly understand what was happening, but in the moment he simply couldn't bring himself to care. He found enough comfort in her presence alone that he was okay with going along with whatever it was anyway. He even let her twirl him, spinning him around as she kept a hand on his, always making sure to keep contact. She was relentless, never leaving him alone.
As they ended another twirl, their bodies came back together, and he was caught in an embrace. He felt the infectious joy that radiated off her. It seeped its way into his chest, twisted around his heart, and held him captive. The moment was so warm and tender that even he could admit that no complaint would ever be uttered from his lips, even if it lasted a lifetime. The closeness of their embrace started to ease so they could catch their breath, but neither of them let go entirely.
They started to drift, swerving in time with the music. Sumire looked towards their missing piece, mouthing something, before turning her head back to face him. Goro took the time to look into her eyes once more and couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his lips. He understood very well why Akira had fallen for her. He couldn’t deny himself anymore, and privately admitted that he had as-
His thoughts were efficiently cut off. He had never in his life felt someone’s lips against his. Never would he have imagined that, of all people, it would be Sumire Yoshizawa who would dare to do something so bold. His eyes widened and his heart, that he had believed had shrivelled into oblivion so long ago, decided to make its presence known as it kicked into overdrive. His face turned hot, and his traitorous body started to tremble. She had thrown him for a fucking loop and she knew it. She stopped the kiss and smiled so sweetly up at him, like he was something to be cherished. In that moment he even felt he could believe her in that.
"I-I hope that was okay... Goro-Senpai" Sumire stammered out, her face finally heating up and turning the same bright red Goro expected his own to be.
"It was very much ok!? Don’t you dare stop now!! What are you doing?!" Goro had never been so taken aback as the voice of his soul screamed.
“She finally fucking did it! What are you doing!? Kiss her! Kiss her again dammit!” Hereward impeached with his own thoughts.
Goro looked towards Akira. He didn't know what to expect. Anger? Hurt? Betrayal? Akira to be completely fucking shellshocked? Apparently, none of the above.
Akira was beaming.
Akira stood up as he took his glasses off, leaving the useless spectacles on the table. Sumire giggled as he approached their spot on the dancefloor.
"You have two eyes, Senpai. Just… promise to keep one on me, okay?" she directed at Akira, even as her hands found their way around Goro's neck as she continued to sway. Goro didn't, couldn't move. He stood rooted to the floor. Akira, finally having reached them, nodded his acknowledgement with an idiotic, besotted grin still plastered over his face. He put one hand around her waist, and embraced the woman he loved.
"That was so unfair." was all Akira could whimper from his spot tucked into her neck. Then, apparently, it was his turn. Akira looked up and slowly cupped the back of Goros head with his free hand, softly, delicately, bringing him in. To Goro's immediate annoyance he stopped just before their lips touched. Millimetres apart, Goro could feel the heat of Akira’s breath on his lips. Millimetres away, he could see Akira’s eyes, focused, shining, on him. Just a few Millimetres too distant, too far, Goro swallowed a growl. He needed him closer, mere fractions of a second away from the kiss Goro had spent too much time fantasising about.
"This is okay... right?"
The deep, husky voice of the man he wanted, begging for his consent. The warmth of the woman he needed, still holding her body pressed against his, arms around his neck.
Goro couldn't help himself. He pushed his lips against his rivals and they, because of course they fucking were, felt so much softer than his.
Goro would never, in the rest of his life, accurately recount the rest of the evening.
His heart beat too fast, his mind lost what little sense of reasoning it had left, and adrenaline took over.
He was able to piece together two things from the rest of the evening. One, the trains had stopped for the night by the time the Jazz Jin closed. Two, his apartment was the only one within walking distance, and his bed was large enough for... Multiple people.
The next thoughts Goro managed that were anywhere close to coherent only occurred much later when he was standing in front of his fridge, in his pyjamas, as he got a drink of water. He felt like his heart had finally slowed, and his brain could finally process what was going on. In his exhausted daze, he sauntered back to his bedroom.
The last few weeks of Goro Akechi's life had been frustrating. Every single damned time Goro had gone out, Akira had been there., The ever smiling, charming, pleasant, fucking Akira. Working a job on every street, around every corner. Somehow juggling ten-thousand jobs to keep him in Goro's line of sight at all times. Then every night he had come home to a flood of texts and video chats from Sumire, inexplicably wanting to talk to him, be a part of his life, and to share hers with him.
Never before in his life had he felt this kind of constant... companionship?
As he walked down his hallway, he turned a corner, and opened his bedroom door. There they were, the two people that, now he was finally being honest with himself, Goro admitted that he couldn’t move forward in life without.
Akira Kurusu and Sumire Yoshizawa.
He took a few moments, just to watch them whisper, and giggle as they stared lovingly into each other's eyes. Only their heads were visible, the rest of them were covered by Goro’s now thoroughly rumpled sheets.
Eventually however, Akira saw Goro. Akira’s smile somehow got even wider and his eyes opened a smidgen more. He looked so incredibly happy. Sumire wasn’t any different, giggling and clearly planning something. She threw the blanket off them both and opened her arms, sporting his favourite featherman jumper, while Akira was wearing his favourite shirt, almost sinfully unbuttoned.
“Welcome home Senpai!” she giggled at him with a gigantic smile on her face, awaiting his response. His eyes met hers, seeing them filled with such affection and compassion. A look Goro had seen countless times before, but never directed at him. It was the same look she always had when she was looking at her boyfriend. Akira watched his reaction as well, clearly having planned the entire scheme, a call back to his silly little joke in LeBlanc all those months ago.
Akira’s eyes held the same emotions as Sumire's. With all of his affection laid bare, Akira looked at Goro as if he were looking at the greatest thing to have ever happened to him.
Somewhere, buried in the depths of Goro's chest, a dam broke. Tears ran down his face. Goro couldn’t help but shut down. Never in his life had he ever expected to be able to walk into a room filled with so much genuine love, and feel completely accepted by everyone in it. It was overwhelming.
He closed his eyes, and crumpled onto the mattress, trying to fight back the tears. He heard the banging of people flailing around on a bed, and then he felt multiple hands grabbing at him. They gently, softly pulled him into an embrace. It was a mess of lips touching his cheek, a head resting on his as a hand stroked his back. It was everything he didn't know he needed.
Goro fell into them, grabbing onto them tightly, knowing he’d never be able to let go of them again. It could have been several minutes or hours, so many patient and tender gestures as the two other people in his apartment (his life) tried to calm him down. There were gentle strokes down his sides and face, and fingers entwined with his. He slowly came to with Akira’s sweet, low voice whispering into the crown of his head: “We're here. Everything will be alright Goro. We love you.”
Goro finally found the strength to respond. Akira’s words had hit him in the darkest part of his heart, breaking any last imbecilic sense of restraint he had left. The tears were still rolling down his face, and Goro found a strange beauty in their meaning. For the first time, they weren't tears of sorrow, loneliness and self loathing. He let himself, for the first time, cry from the joy that came by being overwhelmed by those who loved him. Joy from their warmth as they surrounded him in a loving, supportive embrace. For the first time in his life, Goro was finally able to say the words back.
“I’m home.”