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The chime of the bell resounding throughout Leblanc is fondly familiar to Akira now. That sound served as his alarm clock for a while, back when he still lived in Leblanc’s attic, but now, every time he enters the café as a customer, the sound is more of a reminder that Leblanc still welcomes him home.
Akira can’t help the smile on his face when Sojiro looks up at him from behind the counter and frowns.
“I’ll kick you out if you get into my shop covered in snow like that,” Sojiro threatens.
“Merry Christmas, too,” Akira cheekily replies, and after shaking the snow off himself, he steps into the café and looks around. The café is decorated for the season: colourful Christmas lights, plastic candy canes and red socks, and pictures of snowmen and reindeers. Behind the payphone is a small Christmas tree with lights twinkling on and off. It’s cute.
But, most importantly, the person he’d been looking forward to see today is already in the café; sitting in his usual stool, gloved hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, is Goro. They won’t be able to spend Christmas together; Akira would be with his family, so the weekend is the closest they’ll get to a Christmas date. He meets Akira’s eyes as soon as Akira is done appreciating Sojiro’s choice of Christmas decorations, and the smile he makes is definitely brighter than the Christmas lantern Akira saw hanging outside the bathhouse.
“Hello,” Goro says.
“Hey,” Akira replies.
“Akira really made you wait,” Sojiro joins in, voice flat, and Akira winces as Goro’s smile widens at his remark.
“Sorry,” Akira squeaks out.
“Better late than never,” Goro says with a chuckle, and he drinks the rest of his coffee before standing and taking his coat from the stool next to his. “Shall we go?”
In Yongen-jaya, it’s barely crowded, but the streets are colourful despite the snow blanketing the area. Akira watches as Goro wraps his scarf snugly around his neck, and then he motions at Akira to lead the way.
“So, where to?” Goro asks as they make their way to the station. Half of his face is covered by his scarf, and his nose rests just above the cloth, slowly turning red from the cold. Akira holds himself back from reaching out and pinching his nose.
“Honestly?” Akira says instead, “I have no idea. We can go wherever, I guess, but that’s not much of a plan. So much for a date, huh?”
Goro rolls his eyes at him, but Akira can see his smile under the scarf. “I figured as much, considering it’s you.”
“Hey.”
“But I picked out the first place we can go,” Goro continues, “then we just figure out what to do next after. What do you think?”
Akira nods. “Better than what I had in mind.”
“Which is…?”
“To beg Sojiro to let us have Leblanc to ourselves.”
Goro laughs. “Let’s do that later tonight. Come on.”
--
“So, apparently,” Akira says, cradling two buckets of popcorn. He’s trying not to laugh, but the look Goro is giving him tells him he’s doing a bad job at it. “Your idea of a romantic Christmas date is watching the newest Neo Featherman movie.”
“Your idea of a romantic Christmas date is begging your ex-probation officer to let you have his café to yourself for a day,” Goro retorts, crossing his arms.
Akira deflates at that. “Okay,” he says, “fair enough.” He looks around. In the line with them are parents with their kids, some highschool students, and a few college students like him and Goro. None of them stop to gape at Goro. Until now, that feels so refreshing. “I didn’t expect a long line, though.”
The line to the ticket counter is very long, for a lack of a better term. It’s not exactly crowded, but he and Goro are in line long enough for them to start eating from one bucket of popcorn, and by them, Akira meant only Goro.
Goro shrugs, and he reaches over to the popcorn bucket to take another handful of popcorn.
“I expected it. Neo Featherman is popular with children, after all. Parents would bring their children to watch it,” he says, and he pops a popcorn to his mouth. They shuffle forward as the line moves a little. “I believe it will be a lot worse on Christmas.”
Akira adjusts his hold on the popcorn buckets, and he eyes the way Goro eats his share of popcorn: one by one, and he makes sure he’s properly munched and swallowed the popcorn he has eaten before taking another one. It’s so meticulous that it’s ridiculous, and it makes Akira, well, jealous.
He wants to eat popcorn, too, but neither of his hands are free.
“I’d like to have some of that,” he says, eyebrows furrowing together at the popcorn in Goro’s hand. Goro raises his brows at him, then he smiles. He raises his hand that’s holding the last piece of popcorn he took.
“Sure,” Goro says smoothly. The line moves, and soon enough they’re almost at the counter. He holds up the piece of popcorn in front of Akira. “Open your mouth.”
Akira eagerly does so, parting his lips and leaning forward to take the popcorn from Goro’s fingers, but Goro suddenly takes his hand back and eats the popcorn in one fluid motion, leaving Akira to snap at empty air, and he bites back a laugh at the look of betrayal Akira gives him as he goes to buy their tickets.
During the movie, Goro dips his hand into their shared popcorn bucket (Goro ate half of the first bucket and finished the rest during the first thirty minutes of the movie), and he makes a face at Akira when he, too, dips his hand into the bucket not to get popcorn, but to lace their fingers together.
“You think this makes you so smooth,” Goro says, unimpressed as he raises their linked hands from the bucket. Akira grins.
“Yes,” he replies, and he leans forward and kisses the corner of Goro’s lips.
Then Akira takes the bucket of popcorn and doesn’t share it for the rest of the movie, pointedly ignoring Goro’s indignant gasp.
--
Akira decides that their next stop is Dome Town.
“This is a mistake,” Goro says.
Akira can’t disagree with this one. It’s a little bit past one pm, and who would’ve thought that Dome Town will be this crowded? It’s bad enough on a regular day, worse during a holiday, and worst on the weekend before Christmas. Akira can’t imagine how it would be on Christmas day itself.
Still, they’re already here, and Akira is looking forward to kicking Goro’s ass on some of the games around the park. He tugs on their linked hands.
“It’s not that bad,” he says, and Goro gives him a withering look. “Okay, maybe a little, but we’re already here. We can play a couple of games and the winner can choose where to go next.” He grins at Goro. “Sounds fair?”
Goro makes a face at that. “I thought I’d make the decision next.”
“We didn’t agree on anything like that,” Akira replies.
“But you’d eventually let me choose, yes?” Goro says, complete with his signature charismatic smile. Hah! Like that would work on Akira. He fell for it every time during their highschool years, but he was dumb back then. What kind of kid gets himself into probation, anyway?
Dating Goro Akechi for years makes you smarter, so Akira, being smarter than his highschool self, says, “maybe if you give me kisses, I’d change my mind.”
Goro rolls his eyes at him, but like before, he’s smiling under his scarf. His nose is still red from the cold. “Never mind,” he says, tugging at his hand in Akira’s grip, but he doesn’t pull his hand away. “You have to work for my kisses, you know?” He points to the direction that leads to the game stands with his free hand. “Let’s see who can win the most prizes, and, aside from the privilege to choose our next destination, the winner gets kisses, I suppose.”
Akira grins. “Oh, you’re on.”
Goro chuckles as Akira pulls him to the nearest game---a shooting game, it looks like. “Well, aren’t you eager. I hope you’re ready to lose.”
--
After a round at the shooting game, three rounds at the batting cages, and a round at the high striker, Goro wins. Unsurprisingly. It doesn’t mean Akira didn’t fight well, though. Goro just happens to win the better prizes.
Goro won the privilege of choosing their next destination, and it’s how they find themselves in Inokashira Park. Compared to Dome Town, Inokashira Park doesn’t have as much visitors. So far, Akira has only seen a family or two wandering around and admiring the blanket of white that covers the whole park. There’s not much to see or do here; the lake has frozen over, and Akira would very much like to slide through the frozen lake. There’s a strict policy against walking on the lake, though, so that’s probably not happening soon. It’s more peaceful here, and Akira doubts either of them can find a way to annoy the other.
It’s a little funny: they’re out here on a date, but all they’ve done is to poke fun at each other.
“So,” Akira says, “I was kinda expecting you’d bring us to Shinjuku or somewhere a little wilder now that it’s almost evening.”
Goro breathes out a chuckle at that. They both won prizes from all the games they played, but Goro won their bet because he got all the grand prizes. He’s been carrying an oversized polar bear stuffed toy after hitting the bell in the high striker game. It’s broader than him, but he seems to like hugging it close to himself.
“Shinjuku,” Goro says, “really.”
“Let a man dream,” Akira mutters, “you don’t go there unless I invite you to.”
“I turn down all invitations to Shinjuku,” Goro says, and his smile becomes a little wider, with a hint of fondness. “Except yours, though I have to start thinking it through the next time you invite me. Going to Shinjuku with you always means trouble.”
“You’ll always say yes,” Akira tells him, “because you love me.”
“I do,” Goro heaves a deep, dramatic sigh, “unfortunately.”
Akira laughs and lightly punches his boyfriend’s shoulder.
They walk together in silence after that, the only audible sound is the constant crunching of their shoes against the snow, but even then, it’s not much of a sound; the snow isn’t that deep, after all. Goro’s nose is still red from the cold.
“Inokashira’s nice covered in snow like this,” Akira points out. “Is that why you wanted to go here?”
“Partly,” Goro admits. They find a bench facing the lake and drop their stuff there. The polar bear sits comfortably in the bench with their loot from Dome Town resting on its lap. “I also think I’ve had my share of crowds to last me until the end of the year.”
Akira snorts at that, and they make their way down to the lake. Not to walk on it or anything, but to simply sit by the shore and admire the mirror-like surface the ice made, though setting foot on the lake is tempting. “Ugh, I get it. The crowd is unbelievable this year. I hope the station isn’t worse than normal when I leave tomorrow. It’s bad enough on a normal day.”
“I think it’ll be fine. Nothing someone who’s living in Tokyo can’t handle,” Goro says. “Truthfully, I think you adjusted here in Tokyo quite wonderfully. I’ve never met anyone who managed to craft a web of shady connections in just a year.”
Akira wrinkles his nose. “You say that like you know other shady people.”
“And you say that like you admit you’re shady, yourself.”
“Oh, I am.”
Goro laughs, and Akira feels his own smile widen at that.
“I’d like to be honest with you,” Goro says, and he bends down to look at his reflection in the lake. He’s blinking at himself, and he raises his scarf to cover his red nose. Akira remains standing, listening to Goro as he says, “it’s been three years, and I still wonder what good I did to deserve you.”
Akira blinks, and he feels his face turn red at that. “Goro---”
“No, really,” he says, and he turns to look at Akira. The wine red eyes Akira admired since they first met are fiercely trained on him, keeping him rooted on the spot. “Meeting you at the T.V. station was life changing. I thought there’s nothing else for me other than being the Detective Prince everyone adores.” He looks back at the lake, a smile ghosting his lips as his fingers trace shapes on the ground.
“You brought me out of that, and I’m happier with you. I don’t think I ever told you this, but thank you.” Goro looks up, and he stands up and faces Akira. His scarf doesn’t cover half of his face, anymore: his smile is wide, and he looks at Akira with fondness and---dare Akira say it?---love. Goro’s nose and cheeks are red, and Akira feels the butterflies in his stomach flutter the same way he felt when he held Goro’s hand for the first time, both of them hiding from the fans that recognised Goro. “Truly,” he continues, “and today is another reminder why I love you so much. You’re so full of life.”
Akira opens his mouth, then closes it. He’s at a loss for words. Goro doesn’t say stuff like this a lot, so he doesn’t know what to say. It makes him think of the first time Goro said those words---I love you. They’re precious, something that Akira will never get used to. He can feel the heat he’s generating from Goro’s sudden declaration. It’s a lot of heat.
“Goro…,” he slowly says. He blinks. “Did you…forget to buy me a present?”
Goro stops at that, blinking at him, then he bursts out laughing. If Akira was red because he got flustered at Goro’s declaration, he’s red now because he just went and embarrassed himself.
“Fortunately,” Goro says, still laughing as Akira turns redder, “I didn’t forget. Did you forget to buy me a gift?”
“I didn’t,” Akira says, pouting, “you threw me in for a loop. I need to compose myself.” Goro laughs again. Setting foot onto the frozen lake seems like a good idea now, so he says, “do you think the ice is thick enough to hold my weight?”
Now Goro stops laughing. “What? I don’t know.” He pauses. “You don’t mean to walk on there, do you?”
“Sure,” Akira says. He walks a safe distance on the lake to test it and taps a foot against the ice twice. “Feels sturdy enough.”
“We’re going to get in trouble if security catches you on there,” Goro warns, “Akira, get off the ice.”
Akira walks a few feet more.
“I take back what I said earlier!” Goro shouts. “Kurusu, you are the worst. Get back!”
Akira doesn’t reach the centre of the lake, exactly, but he thinks this is the spot where he and Yusuke went inspiration hunting in a boat. The water is probably deep here. He taps his foot against the ice warily, ready to make a break for it should the ice prove to be too thin to hold his weight. There’s no sign of the ice collapsing any time soon, and there’s no sign of any cops either. Win-win.
Akira grins, and he spins to face Goro, who’s been standing at the shore with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Hey!” Akira yells, waving his hand at his boyfriend. “It’s pretty chill over h---”
The ice under Akira cracks and breaks, and the ice-cold freshwater swallows him up, freezing him into a human-sized ice pop.
That is how Kurusu Akira died.
--
The chime of the bell resounding throughout Leblanc is fondly familiar to Akira now. That sound served as his alarm clock for a while, back when he still lived in Leblanc’s attic, but now, every time he enters the café as a customer, the sound is more of a reminder that Leblanc still welcomes him home.
Except right now, with a cop accompanying him and Goro, Akira thinks the sound is signalling his looming death in Sakura Sojiro’s hands.
Leblanc is empty, thankfully. At least all those customers he served back then would remember him as the snarky kid who makes a good house blend.
Sojiro takes on look at him, then he’s asking the question before he even registers that Akira is bound in a blanket, not handcuffs. “What the hell did this kid---”
“He fell into the lake in Inokashira Park,” Goro cuts off; he sounds tired. He’s in a blanket, too, and his once-immaculate hair looks as if he’s fresh out of the bath. Goro threw himself at Akira the moment Goro got him out of the lake in a desperate attempt to keep him from freezing to death. “Akira almost got himself killed by hypothermia. In fact, he should be in a hospital right now.”
“I t-think,” Akira stutters out, “Sojiro’s coffee can save m-my life.”
Sojiro looks at him. Akira’s teeth are chattering.
He audibly sighs. “Go upstairs. The shop’s all yours. I’ll talk to the cop.”
“T-Thanks,” Akira says, and the couple shuffles to the attic as Sojiro heats up water before turning to the cop that brought them home.
The attic still looks the same as Akira left it. Actually, it looks pretty used. He lives in a dorm now in his university, so it’s not him who’s been using the attic recently. He glances at Goro, who’s plugging the heater at the nearest socket. He still has his blanket tightly wrapped around him.
Goro turns on the heater, and he looks up at Akira. “Is something wrong?”
“Uh.” Akira sits on his bed as Goro moves the heater closer to him. “You been sleeping here lately?”
“What? No.” Goro sits on the floor and huddles close to the heater. Akira decides to do the same, but instead of the heater, he huddles against Goro. “I have my own apartment, in case you forgot,” Goro tells him. “If there’s anyone using your old room lately, I believe that will be Futaba-chan.”
“Oh. Futaba.” That makes the most sense.
There’s a beat of silence, then Goro sighs, shifting closer to Akira. “You will definitely kill me with a heart attack sooner or later.”
Akira snorts, then he shivers. “I’d say the cold was worth it, but i-it really isn’t.”
“The cold bothered you, anyway.”
“I’m breaking up with you.”
They both snicker.
They sit together in front of the heater like that, waiting for Sojiro to finish their coffee. It’s going to take a while, but they can wait. They have plenty of time for that.
“Ah,” Akira says, suddenly remembering something, “we’re cold, and my gift is perfect for this.”
“What?” Goro watches as Akira stands up and waddles to the shelf close to the stairs. “Another heater?”
Akira snorts. “No.” He bends down and pulls out a cardboard box from the lowermost shelf---his old clothes cabinet. He picks up two gift-wrapped items from the box and waddles back to Goro. After sitting down next to him, he hands one of the items to Goro. “For you,” he says with a grin.
Goro accepts the offered gift. The material inside feels soft, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what it is. He raises his brows at Akira. “A sweater?”
“Better than a sweater,” Akira says with a laugh, and he starts to tear open the other wrapped item he has, so Goro follows his example.
Soon enough, Goro is scrutinising a grey sweater that’s peppered with small cliché Christmas decors: candy canes, red ribbons, gingerbread men, and so on and so forth. A bell slightly bigger than the other decors hangs at the bottom of the sweater, complete with a fluffy red ribbon above the bell.
In the middle of the sweater is a red text that reads Jingle My Bells.
…God.
This is so awful.
“Akira…” Goro turns to look at his boyfriend, and he finds that Akira somehow managed to peel off all the extra clothes he was made to wear and put on his own sweater. It’s a red sweater, with the same decors peppering it, but instead of a giant bell, two red gloves are placed on both sides of the chest area, and below it is a green text that reads, Feel The Joy.
Goro isn’t sure which one is worse.
“…Where’d you get these?” Goro asks.
“From one of my shady connections,” Akira replies, grinning. He takes his blanket and wraps it around himself again, scooting towards Goro. “You know what’s great about these? They’re couple sweaters.”
Goro blinks. “They’re couple sweaters,” he repeats.
“Yep,” Akira says, popping the p at the end. “So you should wear yours, too.”
It’s quiet for a moment, Goro staring blankly at Akira and Akira staring expectantly at Goro, then with a rueful sigh, Goro puts on his sweater.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Goro says with a weak glare at Akira’s grinning face.
Akira snickers. “Really? I thought you’re cute. You know, your nose has been red all these time. Your cheeks, too. I’ve been wanting to do something about it.”
Goro defensively puts both his hands against his cheeks as he pouts at Akira. “Right,” he flatly says, “like what?”
For a second, Akira thinks about it, then, “ah, you know how the winner from our bet a while ago gets kisses?”
Goro stares at Akira, and when he starts crawling towards Goro with eyes full of intent is when realisation sinks in. Goro yelps when Akira crawls onto his lap.
“Wait!” Goro almost yells when Akira puts his hands over his own to pry them off his face; Akira’s hands are freezing cold. “Let’s not---” Akira plants a kiss at the tip of his nose. His lips are cold and chapped, yet all Goro feels is a warmth bubbling in his chest. “You’re cold---!” Akira kisses his forehead, then his left eyelid, and they both yell when they fall down the floor, Akira on top of Goro and Goro kicking his legs up in the air. Laughter rumbles out of their chests.
“Wow,” Akira says in-between kisses, “I get the privilege of kissing the Detective Prince. How lucky am I?”
“Not at all,” Goro retorts, “you are cold and you should get off me before I kick you!”
“Hm,” Akira says, “I need a human warmth.” He straddles Goro’s hips, and with a grin, he says, “feel my joy?”
He takes Goro’s hand presses it against his chest, his hand over Goro’s. Akira is cold; Goro can even feel it through his awful sweater, but he can also feel the rhythmic beat of his heart and the warmth in his sharp grey eyes.
Goro can feel Akira’s joy.
He grins. “Feel like jingling my bells tonight, then?”
Akira laughs out loud. “That is the worst thing you said, ever.”
Goro laughs as Akira leans down and presses their foreheads together. “You didn’t say no.”
“I’d die first before I’d say no,” Akira says. Goro closes his eyes and feels their breath mix, feeling Akira tilt his head to the side and---
Akira leans back and sneezes, then again, and again. Then he sniffs. “Ugh,” he says, crawling off Goro to get a tissue sprawled about on the shelf closest to the bed. “This is awful.”
They hear Sojiro call out that their coffee is ready and to stop making noises; at least wait until I’m out of here. Only then do they notice the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, and Goro breathes out a laugh as Akira makes a guttural noise of death.
“I suppose no bells are getting jingled tonight,” Goro says as he makes his way downstairs, the bell on his sweater jingling loudly with his every move. The sound is awful.
Akira makes an offended gasp. “You’re not funny!”
--
When Goro reaches the café, he’s immediately greeted by Sojiro’s disapproving stare.
“What the hell’s with that sweater?” Sojiro says.
“Akira bought it,” Goro immediately replies.
Sojiro sighs. “That kid is honestly a handful.” He waves a hand at the two cups sitting on top of a tray on the counter. “Go take it upstairs and rest there. Futaba isn’t crashing in Leblanc anyway.”
Goro gives him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Sakura-san.”
“Geez,” Sojiro says with a sigh, “just Sojiro. You don’t hear Akira or Futaba calling me so formally.”
“Well, isn’t that because you’re family?” Sojiro gives him a look, and he stiffly nods. “Um, alright, Sojiro. Thank you for the coffee.”
Goro takes the tray, and smelling the scent of freshly brewed coffee, he can’t help but smile a little. He’s about to turn around and head upstairs when Sojiro says, “so, how’d it go? Though I think Akira almost getting himself killed ruined your plans.”
Goro stops at that, and he turns to face Sojiro and places the tray back on the counter. “Futaba-chan told you?”
Sojiro shrugs. “She said she’s excited.”
Leaning on his favourite stool, Goro sighs. “…Yes, it completely got ruined. I’m still in the process of finding a way to salvage this.” He waves a hand towards the CCTV camera at the end of the room. “I could put it off, try again another day, perhaps on New Year’s, but I don’t enjoy the idea of Futaba-chan being disappointed.”
Sojiro smirks. “Heh, you and me both,” he says, but the smirk seems to suggest otherwise. Maybe not Futaba being disappointed, but you know. “How about this: try doing it later. I’ll leave the Christmas lights outside on for extra effect. It probably won’t be as romantic as the crystalline shores of the lake in Inokashira, but it’s something.” He raises his brows at Goro, as if to say you rolling with this?
Goro blinks at him. “I…” He swallows. “I suppose I can do that, yes.”
Sojiro gives him a look of approval. “Good,” he says, and he jerks a thumb at the tray on the counter. “Well, go give that idiot some coffee. He’ll need some warmth if we hope to get him outside.”
Goro nods at Sojiro, and he picks up the tray once again and heads upstairs. He can hear Akira blowing miserably into a tissue paper, and he can’t help but think that this is the guy he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
When he enters the attic and watches Akira considerably brighten at seeing him, he can’t help but think that he definitely doesn’t mind spending the rest of his life with Kurusu Akira. Not one bit.
The velvet box in his pocket feels as if it’s eager to finally show the ring it holds to Akira. He hopes Akira will accept his gift.