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The machine whirs , and Ryuji retrieves his soda and his change. He drops the rest of the coins in, makes his selection, and the machine whirs again, depositing the second drink in easy reach. Prizes in hand, Ryuji heads toward the stairs. Kawakami’s class always gets out late; it’s not like he can’t text, but if he’s lucky -
The stars must be on his side, because just as he reaches the stairwell the door to 2-D slides open and Akira steps out, shifting his bag on his shoulder.
“Hey!” Ryuji hefts one of the bottles in greeting, and Akira looks up, face closed and guarded - but then his features relax and he strolls over, hands in his pockets.
“Hey, yourself,” he says, the beginnings of a smile tugging his lips. Ryuji knows he can do better.
“You up for training this afternoon? Gotta keep improving,” he says, holding one of the bottles out and waving it. “Those Shadows won’t kick their own asses. Although,” he says as Akira hesitantly takes the bottle. “That would be pretty hilarious. Think there’s something we can learn to, I don’t know, confuse ‘em, or something?”
“That would be a valuable skill for a Phantom Thief,” Morgana says, popping his head out of Akira’s bag. “You should read up on confusing your enemies,” he says, glancing at Akira, then glares at Ryuji. “Where’s my soda?”
“You’re a cat! How are you gonna hold it?” Ryuji glares back, until a soft chuckle makes him look up. Akira’s still got that small smile, but it seems more solid now, more real , and Ryuji can’t help but grin back.
“Don’t mind him,” Akira says, and Morgana grumbles, retreating back into the bag. “Yeah, let’s hit the gym.”
Ryuji beams. “Great! I can feel my stamina improving - gotta keep at it,” he says, turning to head down the stairs.
Akira catches up in a few steps, stowing the drink inside his bag. “Thanks,” he says quietly, and Ryuji shrugs and bumps their shoulders together.
“Anytime, man.”
It’s not like - it’s not like Ryuji has a catalog of Akira’s faces, or anything. That would be creepy and weird, and definitely not the kind of thing you do to your best friend.
But there’s definitely a difference, right, between Akira’s everyday, pleasantly neutral expression, and the more relaxed face he lets himself have at the hideout, when it’s just them. Ryuji can summon from memory the different angles of the smug grin Akira gets when he’s done something he’s particularly proud of, or the knife-edge of his smile when he’s being Joker. That one is - it’s certainly something, and Ryuji would be lying if he said that smile under the bone-white mask didn’t send a shiver down his spine.
But even that has nothing on the soft, surprised smile Akira gets over some of the smallest, stupidest things: a soda after school, a friendly arm around the shoulder, directions to the best ramen in the city. It makes Ryuji want to grin from ear to ear; it also makes him want to punch whoever taught Akira that he shouldn’t expect those things.
Ryuji knows now that that last part was not a who so much as a what ; he knows all about public opinion and how quickly it can turn, but it still pisses him off, the way some asshole thought he could just ruin Akira’s life. Ryuji knows that Akira can take care of himself; that’s not the point. The point is that assholes that like that shouldn’t have that kind of power.
Still, he thinks as he drains his bowl. If that jerkoff hadn’t done what he had, Akira would never have come to Shujin, and Ryuji would never have met him, and that -
That’s not something Ryuji wants to think about. Not now, not while they’re hanging out - it’s better to turn the talk to lighter things, like how totally right he was about this place. Akira smiles, small and agreeable, and Ryuji chalks up another victory. Ryuji picks up the tab, waving Akira off - he can get it next time - and the waitress hands him something round and plastic and stamped with Ogikubo’s logo on the way out. Ryuji turns it over in his hands as they push through the door, and laughs.
“Huh, looks like they’re giving out presents. Here,” he says on impulse, handing the fake ramen bowl to Akira. “You can have mine. I’m not crazy enough about ramen to be showin’ that off in my room.” This is a lie - Ryuji is exactly that crazy about ramen - but it’s worth it for the way Akira looks down at the stupid plastic bowl in his hands, startled and amazed like it’s any kind of good present instead of a kitschy promotional stunt.
“All right,” Ryuji says, adjusting his bag so he doesn’t have to look at the soft smile on Akira’s lips anymore. “Let’s run to the station and work that meal off!” He takes off, laughing at Akira’s startled “hey!” - but in a few moments, a hand catches his shoulder and Akira speeds past him, and Ryuji grins into the oncoming wind.
It becomes kind of - a game, almost, to see how often Ryuji can pull that soft, surprised look past Akira’s guard. It gets both easier and harder; Akira’s smiles start to come easier, more naturally, but he loses some of the honest surprise at a friendly gesture that had made Ryuji think dark thoughts about the people at Akira’s old school. There are compensations, though: the Big Bang Burger Challenge leaves them both groaning over a pile of half-finished food, but the dopey look of satisfaction Akira gives him over the wreckage is worth the stomachache. The late night study sessions are at least less aggravating when Akira’s there, and when Ryuji gives in and orders them both milkshakes the small smile of gratitude from across the table makes the algebra headache a little more bearable.
It’s fun . It’s more fun than kicking Shadow butt, even; and the heavens know Ryuji looks forward to that. He just doesn’t realize that it might be a problem until Ann catches him one day at the station, looping one arm around his and pulling him along down the platform.
“ Hey - oh, uh, hi.” Ann’s stronger than she looks, and Ryuji quick-steps to keep up. “Can I - can I help you with something?”
“I’m so glad you asked,” Ann says sweetly, and Ryuji is immediately put on his guard. “You can help me by making a move on Akira already.”
Ryuji stumbles, and it’s only Ann’s arm tight around his that saves him from toppling onto the tracks. “I - what ? You’ve gotta be - are you feeling alright?” He regains his footing and squints at Ann. “Are you - you’re not running a fever are you? Are you seeing things? Are you -”
Ann puts her hands on her hips. “The only one who’s delusional here is you, if you think that the rest of us have missed your outrageous flirting.”
Ryuji wonders if this is what a heart attack feels like. “I don’t - I don’t !” Is about all he can manage.
“Oh, honey.” Ann puts a hand on his arm like that’s any kind of comfort. “You really do. You bring him a soda every day -”
“Not every - do I?” Ryuji tries to think back but Ann is steamrolling ahead.
“- you save the last of your fries for him at the diner -”
“- he...doesn’t eat enough… -”
“- you brought him daifuku at the hideout yesterday. Daifuku , Ryuji.”
“He likes them!” Ryuji protests.
Ann rolls her eyes. “Of course he does. That’s the point - if I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to fatten him up, but I do know better, and what I know -” Ann pokes him in the chest. “Is that you have it bad , Ryuji Sakamoto, and you had better do something about it.”
The train roars up behind him and Ann looks up. “Oh! That’s my train.” She pats him on the arm again. “Just think about it, okay?”
She joins the rush of onboarding commuters, turning to wave at him before the door closes, and this is technically Ryuji’s train too, but -
But he’s not sure he can handle any more bombshells right now.
The problem is that Ryuji does think about it. He thinks about it a whole goddamn lot.
Ann’s out of her mind, obviously. He and Akira are just friends , that’s all. Best friends, sure, and Ryuji’s acutely aware of how lucky he is in that respect. Akira’s a handsome guy, Ryuji can admit that; he’s got a wicked sense of humor once you get past that blank exterior, and he’s fiercely protective of his friends. But he doesn’t eat enough - it’s like he thinks he can run on willpower alone (maybe he can; Ryuji wouldn’t put it past him to try) - and he’s getting better but he doesn’t smile nearly enough, not like Ryuji knows he can -
Crap. Maybe Ann is on to something.
But. Would it - would it really be so bad? If Ryuji thinks about it, if he’s really honest with himself - that soft, surprised smile on Akira’s face makes him feel alive , in a way that he hasn’t in - in possibly ever. That smile is the important thing. Akira is the important thing. Everything else is just...details.
It’s a dangerous thought, but it gets less terrifying the more Ryuji turns it over. He wonders about it on the train into school, daydreams about it during class; he even catches himself watching Akira’s hands during a Thieves meeting, wondering what it would be like to catch one in his own, to feel those long fingers curled around his, not in a friendly hand up after a fight but just to hold. Just to touch.
“Ryuji?” The sound of his own name breaks through his thoughts and he realizes he’s been zoning out, back against the warm glass in the accessway in Shibuya station. Ann and Yusuke are long gone, it looks like, and Morgana is nowhere in sight. Akira’s leaning next to him, shooting him a concerned glance from behind lenses Ryuji suspects he doesn’t really need.
“Yeah, I’m -” The setting sun is warm against his back and sets golden highlights in Akira’s hair, and this is dumb, this is dumber than he usually is, but Akira looks so goddamn perfect in this moment that it does something to Ryuji’s chest, like he’s somehow run a 2k without knowing.
“I’m - what? Sorry, man,” he says, rubbing the back of his head and looking away. “Just daydreaming, I guess. What did we decide?”
“Nothing, for now.” Akira falls silent for a moment, and then he shifts, turning to lean one shoulder against the glass, and it’s really unfair , Ryuji thinks despairingly, that just the sight of Akira’s brow creased in concern should be able to do this, should make Ryuji want to go climb mountains, slay dragons, do whatever it takes to erase that line between his eyes and bring that smile back.
“You’ve been...quiet.” Ryuji curses internally; of course Akira noticed, what doesn’t he notice. “Is there something I can do? To help,” he says, as if that needed explanation. There’s no judgement in his voice; if Ryuji laughs this off, like he’s more than half-tempted to do, he knows Akira will just - let it go. And things can go back to the way they were.
The sun glints off Akira’s glasses, rendering them opaque, and Ryuji suddenly can’t read him at all, he can’t think .
But thinking has never been his strong suit - go with the flow, isn’t that what he told Yusuke? And the flow always brings him back here, by Akira’s side.
“You can -” Ryuji laughs shakily, because he can’t believe he’s about to do this, but he also can’t believe he waited this long. “You can hold still a minute. And don’t punch me for this, m’kay?”
Akira raises his eyebrows but he stays put, and Ryuji takes a breath, says a quick prayer, and leans in.
It’s just a quick peck of lips, over almost before it starts. Ryuji finds himself swaying forward and catches himself, balling his fists before he can do anything stupid - stupider - like reaching out to touch.
There’s a quick intake of breath from Akira. Ryuji pulls back enough to see that shocked, almost blank look of surprise on his face, and has just enough time to think oh shit and wonder if he can possibly hurl himself through the window to escape -
- before there’s a hand in his shirt and he’s being pulled back in and oh my god , if he thought what had happened before was a kiss he was so wrong , and Ryuji’s brain shuts down for a minute.
When he can breathe - when he can think again - Akira is smoothing Ryuji’s shirt back down with that soft, surprised smile that makes Ryuji want to promise crazy things.
“How long have you been holding that in?” he says, and Ryuji blinks.
“Uh - a while? I don’t know, look, that’s not important, what’s important is that -” Ryuji’s throat closes up on what’s important is that I haven’t ruined everything , but Akira steps in.
“What’s important,” he says, hand flat on Ryuji’s chest. “Is that I offered to help, and I meant it.” He winks, and Ryuji starts breathing again. “Anytime.”
“Help,” Ryuji says, and he can’t help the grin spreading across his face. “Is that what we’re calling it.”
“Yep,” Akira says, stooping to scoop his bag up off the floor. When he straightens he grabs one of Ryuji’s hands briefly, thumb rubbing over the knuckles before letting go. “And if you’re free - I could use some help on the biology study guide.”
“You know I’m in, man,” Ryuji says, and there are volumes worth of truth in that. Maybe Akira can even hear it, from the way his smile turns blinding, and this time when he reaches out his hand, Ryuji holds fast and doesn’t let go.