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From very young age, Yusuke had been taught to view beauty in an entirely different way than most.
He could still remember the slight sting of his teacher's brush coming down upon his forearm as a for year old when he had accidentally giggled at the elderly model brought to the atelier. It was Yusuke's first time drawing a nude model and wasn't quite certain what to expect, but it certainly wasn't an white-haired man with a paunch and shriveled gonads. He hasn't meant to laugh, honestly, nor did he mean for the tears of betrayal to bead in the corners of his eyes.
After a quick wave of ‘nothing-to-see-here,’ Madarame pulled his youngest pupil aside so the other could work. Even knowing what he did now, Yusuke couldn't doubt that his affectionate smile was genuine.
“Now Yusuke, why do you think I pulled you out here?”
Ever the taciturn, shy boy, Yusuke shrank into himself and stared at his teacher's shoes.
“...Because I laughed?”
“Don't answer a question with a question, son.”
Another fidget. “Because I laughed.”
A warm hand descended onto his tiny shoulder, prompting Yusuke to meet his master's eyes. “Was that very polite of you?”
“No, sir…”
Apparently pleased, Madarame ducked down to meet his pupil’s now embarrassingly watering eyes. “Would you like it if you stood naked in front of people and got laughed at?”
There was no denying the tiny sniffle the boy gave. “No, sir.”
“You're a good boy, Yusuke,” Madarame cooed while squeezing his shoulder, “and you're going to be a brilliant artist one day, but there are still some things you need to understand.”
Sniffle. “Like what?”
Madarame hmm’d theatrically and stroked his short beard, earning a watery giggle. “Well, when you looked at Mr. Tanegawa, what's the first word that comes to mind- don't hold your tongue for politeness, dear boy, be honest.”
“...Fat.”
“‘Fat,’ you say? I see dimension, shadow, contouring and angles.”
Yusuke wiped his eyes and blinked. “But…”
“His hair is less thick, which requires more texturing than full head of hair. The wrinkles in his face require mastery of shadow and depth to capture the right expression. Even his thin skin requires details to see the veins underneath.”
Two calloused hands gripped Yusuke's cheeks, gently but with intent. “The sooner you can,learn to find beauty in,the non-superficial, the sooner your artistic wings can truly be spread.”
With one last pat to the head, Madarame left Yusuke to his thoughts to supervise the rest of his students.
(He did eventually apologize to Mr. Tanegawa, but he never could bring himself to draw his withered genitalia in any sketch from then on.)
---
Akira, from a superficial standpoint, was average bordering on unremarkable. Mousy hair, dark hair and eyes… even his musculature structure was boring. To be blunt, you could pass him every single day on the subway for years and not notice him.
From an artistic standpoint, well…
Yusuke would be lying to himself if he didn't admit to behind drawn rather decidedly into their leader's gravity. He learned to look past the fake glasses, the ill-fitting plaid (Kosei colors would wash him out though) and even the bland facial expressions.
Instead, he focused on the passion for brewing coffee, the blush that raise easily to his face for his praise at the convenience store,the delicate way he handled flowers at his other job.
(If Yusuke once painted a piece inspired by Akira beautifying the corpses of what were once living plants, well, no one outside his teachers needed to know.)
That, he decided, was why he did not like Goro Akechi.
Sure, a certain amount of suspicious arose rather illogically from his familiarity with the works of Ranpo Edogawa, but a large part was he didn't like how Akechi looked at Akira.
It wasn't an,objectifying look, at least at first....
Akechi wanted something and Yusuke didn't like it. Honestly, if it didn't go against all his decorum as a student - former, ouch - of the great Madarame, he would...would….
Do something ungentlemanly, certainly.
“You know, Inari,” Futaba cooed from the bar stool next to him at LeBlanc one day, “I thought fox gods brought rain with them. You look like you'd rather fire and brimstone.”
Apparently, Akechi said something no doubt pithy and charming while she was talking because Akira gave a quiet chuckle. He hasn't realized his hands were trembling until coffee began soaking his sleeve.
“Oh, let me help you clean that up!” Ever the charming worker, Akira immediately set to work with a rag to mop up the mess. Perhaps it was all in his head, but as Akira grabbed a cool towel to soothe the burn, it felt as though he took extra care to fondle every finger.
“Better?” Was he the only one who noticed how alluring that sounded? Surely not…
“Yes, thank you.”
With a nod, Akira went back to sorting beans and the general chatter continued. Futaba took the lull to deliver a swift kick to his thigh. “Wha-?”
“Quit being so obvious, Inari! Leave mister detective over there to masturbate to his own greatness and focus on getting the guy of your dreams!”
“...that was rather crass…”
She snorted before bringing her ankles onto the stool. “But you don't deny it.”
It's true, he didn't.
---
The next time Yusuke had the...pleasure...of interacting with Akechi came a few days later.
Akira had previously agreed to being used as a figure model, but an unexpected emergency had Sojiro leaving the store in his care after Futaba had a particularly nasty fainting spell. Both were reportedly alright, but Akira insisted on working anyways.
Unfortunately, Neo Featherman happened to be airing that day. Now, what Yusuke was not aware of was that Akechi had a charming habit of showing up to watch said cartoon while Akira worked.
Great.
Suddenly, none of his lines were perfect anymore, composition was off… puerile though it was, Akechi was ruining his entire plan just by existing.
During a commercial break, Akechi apparently decided to make himself a further annoyance and try to make conversation. “Hello there, Kitagawa. What brings you to this humble cafe this time of day?”
“For such a great detective, your deductive skills are rather lacking if you have to,ask me that.”
In hindsight, even Yusuke knew that was unnecessarily sassy considering the rather bland question. Still, something about this...this… boy just rankled him.
Apparently unaffected by the open hostility, Akechi gave a (fake) chuckle. “Fair enough. I must admit though, it is rather curious that your propensity is towards using Akira as your model. Though, I must admit, he does cut a striking figure at times.”
Deep breath in, then out. “Well, given the current availability of models,” he gestured to the otherwise empty store, “he is the best suited choice.”
If Akechi thought that doe-eyed innocent look would work on Yusuke, he had another thing coming. “Why, Kitagawa, I'm sitting right here!”
Rather deign that with a response, Yusuke flipped to a new page and immediately began sketching the basic contours of Akira's face.
---
Only a blind man would miss the way “Crow” openly oogled Joker in his thief attire. He cooed and clucked, plucking at the overcoat and gaping openly. It was nauseating.
“Hey, Fox,” Skull whisper-yelled from behind, “is Kosei looking for a new band director? Hoo boy, look at that get-up! Are those eppaulets?! Duuuuuuude!”
Queen silenced him with a swift swat to the head. “Ak-Crow likely had no sigh on his uniform. It isn't his choice to look like...well…”
“A tengu? A clown? A pedoph-mmph!”
“Mona, let's at least...try to be...well…” Panther trailed off and shuffled her feet. “Can we skip the pretending we don't know and skip to the ass kicking?”
“I'm in favor.”
“No one asked you, Inari. For now, we follow Joker’s lead.”
And follow Joker's lead they did, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that Fox's head was not on the game. Every time he heard Crow scream for Robin Hood, saw him pose after a finishing strike…
Every time, he would immediately turn to Joker for affirmation and it made Fox sick. His stomach churned with bile and every inch of him cried for Joker to notice, to say something.
It wasn't until the next safe room the Joker finally pulled him aside. “Answer me honestly; what is going on today?”
Luckily, honesty was a strength of Yusuke’s, to a fault one might say. “I don't like how he looks at you.”
Akira rocked on the back of his heels and grabbed his chin in faux-contemplation. “Crow?”
“Need you even ask?”
“Alright, short of the obvious that he's setting us up, what else is it?”
Fox tried to meet his leaders eyes, but his stomach was in knots and even beneath his mask, his face burned. “He looks at you like a cut of meat.”
“Like a piece of ass?”
“Joker!” Fox hissed in mortification, giving a quick glance around to make sure no one else had overheard. Their leader gave a quiet chuckle and Fox knew even his ears were flaming red now.
“Fox, I need you to listen to me right now, alright?”
As if there was any doubt. “Of course.”
“Akechi is the traitor, we know this. Correct?”
“Correct.”
“He is likely paying extremely close attention to our every interaction to ensure that we don't suspect him, correct?”
Yusuke hadn't considered that, but it made sense. “Correct.”
“And I think we can both agree your performance and this discussion has likely drawn his attention, yes?”
A wide grin suddenly spread across Joker's face and Fox's heart began to race at not knowing what their leader was thinking. “Yes.”
Fox didn't think it was possible, but that grin grew even more as Joker sauntered enough into his personal space to press Fox against a wall. “Well then, best do something to dispel that suspicion, hmm?”
And suddenly Joker's lips were on his and there was another tongue in his mouth and Yusuke had heard the expression of ‘your head swimming’ but this was his first time experiencing it. Even with the masks, Joker managed to coax him into responding, running his red gloved hands up and down Fox’s spine and leaving trails of goose flesh. It took a moment, but Fox quickly grabbed into Joker's hips and squeezed in a plea for more that honestly he didn't fully understand-
And then it was over and he was left red-faced and panting against the wall while Joker waltzed off to discuss infiltration plans. Oracle gave a wolf whistle and offered him a hand, which he wouldn't have taken had his knees not be reduced to jelly.
“Way to go, Inari!” she teased with an elbow to rib, “didn't know you had it in you! Maybe we should change your title to Minx or Tiger!”
She gave a phoney mreow, but Fox's attention was caught by the positively frigid glare being shot his way through that stupid, pointy mask.
“Two can play that game,” Yusuke preened as his tail unknowingly wagged, “and luckily I'm strong to ice.”
“Kick his scrawny little ass, Inari. Then, celebrate by getting into our leader's!” Oracle gave a small fist pump and grinned behind her goggles.
“...Still so vulgar. How old are you again?”
“You didn't deny it.”
Fox flared down Crow across the table, a positively lupine grin on his face. No, he didn't deny it at all.