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In the car home from the amusement park, Kindaichi mourns another terrible first date.
You were probably lucky she agreed to go out with you in the first place is the text response he gets from Kunimi, followed up by one that reads You should move on. You’ll find someone.
Finding someone willing to date the heir to one of Japan’s wealthiest and most politically-connected families doesn’t seem to be the problem. Getting someone to stick around is another matter entirely.
Sitting across from Kindaichi in the car is his bodyguard Kageyama, looking impassive as always. Kindaichi watches his brow furrow in thought -- he looks intimidating, but he’s probably daydreaming about rice balls, or the amusement funnel cake they had shared earlier.
“You could’ve been more pleasant, you know,” Kindaichi says, kicking Kageyama’s shin lightly, “You can’t keep scaring girls off, I’m gonna die single and alone at this point.”
“If she can’t handle the fact that her date has a personal bodyguard, what use is she to you?” Kageyama snaps. They’ve had this argument maybe a hundred times over at this point, over the course of nearly a decade.
Kindaichi rolls his eyes. The girl hadn’t been off-put by Kageyama at first -- quite the opposite, in fact. Most girls are perplexed by Kageyama, but ultimately understanding. They always comment on how handsome he is, at least until his looming and unpleasant presence derails the date and leaves Kindaichi back at square one.
“You know, a guy with your looks could stand to be more charming,” Kindaichi quips. Kageyama doesn’t respond, just exhales sharply out of his nose.
Home is the only place where Kindaichi really separates from Kageyama. At his uni classes, or out with friends, or at his internship, Kindaichi can be assured that Kageyama is always close behind, doing his best to be surreptitious but standing out among the crowd nonetheless. Sometimes it’s nice just to get away from him, get away from the corporeal reminder of all the responsibilities that weigh on Kindaichi’s shoulders.
Except he always finds himself gravitating toward Kageyama’s room, only a few doors down from his own. It’s unlocked, and he strolls in with no trouble, finding Kageyama sprawled out on his bed sipping a box of milk and flipping through a magazine.
And for some reason, this annoys Kindaichi to no end.
“Shouldn’t you be more vigilant? What if I was an assassin coming to kill you?”
Kageyama doesn’t look up, “No one wants to kill me. Besides, I knew it was you.”
“How?”
“I know how your footsteps sound,” he says, simply. Sometimes Kindaichi forgets that Kageyama is actually quite good at his job.
They sit in silence for awhile, Kindaichi scrolling through his phone and texting Kunimi. It’s comforting, a bit, to have someone he feels comfortable just being around; no expectations or responsibilities or stilted conversations.
It is, surprisingly, Kageyama who breaks the silence.
“Why don’t you just have your dad arrange a marriage?”
“Huh?” Kindaichi sits up in his seat, “No way, I don’t want that!”
“But dating is troublesome,” Kageyama says, yawning, “If I were you, I’d just settle down at this point.”
“And let my dad and some random company execs choose who I’m going to be with for the rest of my life?!”
Kageyama shrugs, “Well, your dad chose me when you needed a bodyguard. And we worked out fine.”
“W-We’re not--” Kindaichi goes red, “It’s different! We’re not getting married!”
A beat of silence, and then, “But I am going to be with you for the rest of your life.”
Kageyama says it so plainly, voice so soft that Kindaichi barely catches it at first. When he does, his face goes red all the way up to his always-distinctive hairline. It might be embarrassing, but Kageyama is right. He’ll always be there, no matter what happens. Strange, Kindaichi thinks, that he never realized that before.
The awkward silence stretches on, but Kageyama has already returned to his magazine, apparently unfazed. Kindaichi worries his bottom lip between his teeth.
“You’re right,” he says, finally, “And I am glad it was you.”
Kageyama doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t really have to.