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Goro feels eyes on him.
He’s concentrating deeply on the test he’s taking at the moment, but he gets the feeling of being watched all the same. He looks up, glancing around. A student seated few seats to his right is blatantly staring at him, and when their eyes meet, he starts, quickly glancing away and back to his own test.
Akira Kurusu. Goro knows him, as they share a few classes together and have spoken a few times. Akira is the quiet type, and Goro doesn’t bother much with socialization--particularly when having to juggle being the class president and his involvement and multiple organizations and clubs, mostly just to keep up appearances--so they don’t know each other very well. But Goro didn’t expect this kind of behavior from him.
He doesn’t say or do anything, even though he feels the eyes on him a few more times throughout the test. But he confronts Akira outside the classroom afterwards.
“Kurusu-kun.”
Akira starts when he says his name, looking guilty.
“I didn’t take you as the type to be a cheater,” Goro says, disappointedly.
Akira gapes at him, and doesn’t respond. He seems surprised, which is strange.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking at my test,” Goro clarifies. “You can’t play dumb with me.”
Akira’s gaze darts around helplessly, looking anywhere but Goro. “Um,” is all he manages to say in response.
“As class president, I take this sort of thing seriously. You know if I reported this, you could face some serious repercussions.”
After another moment of silence in which Goro is worried he’s going to continue to feign ignorance, Akira nods dumbly at him.
“I’m glad you understand,” he continues. “I’m not going to report you, but I wish you would have told me if you were struggling with the class. I could have tutored you.”
In addition to the organizations he belongs to, he also tutors at the library a few nights a week. This particular class, Philosophy, is one he is quite good at. But Akira surely knew he was good at it, and that’s why he decided to try to copy off of his paper.
When he mentions tutoring, Akira seems to perk up a bit. “Would you do that?” he asks, tentatively. “I’m sorry, I’ve...uh...I just haven’t really been getting it. I guess I’m just not that good at philosophy.”
“Some of the concepts can be quite abstract,” Goro says agreeably. “But you still should not have resorted to trying to cheat.”
Akira looks appropriately sheepish. “Sorry.”
Goro touches his hand to his chin in thought for a moment. “I will agree to tutor you,” he says, and Akira’s face brightens again. “But I don’t want you to discount how serious this is. Don’t do it again.”
Akira nods.
And that’s how he found himself being Akira’s philosophy tutor.
Maybe he should have been tougher on him and, at the very least, not rewarded his behavior. But he found he couldn’t quite be mad about it, especially since Akira seemed so apologetic and willing to learn.
And Goro can’t say he dislikes being useful to people. Especially when it comes to teaching them philosophy. It’s not too often that he gets to enthusiastically explain Hegel to a captive audience.
That’s what he does, every Tuesday night for the few weeks leading up to the next test.
But he begins to notice something.
Akira stays perfectly silent and doesn’t ask any questions during Goro’s explanations of the material. His eyes stay fixed on Goro the entire time, giving the appearance that Goro has his full attention.
Goro assumed this was true, but one time when he interrupted himself to ask Akira if he was following along, he was met with a blank stare.
“Akira?” he prompts.
Akira starts, blinking at him. “Huh?”
“I asked if you were following along,” Goro says, a little testily. “I assume not?”
That guilty expression appears on his face again. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second there. Can you repeat that?”
And Goro did, but it becomes increasingly obvious over the course of the next few weeks that this is a pattern. At first he wonders if he should even bother continuing with these lessons, because although Akira still seems eager for their tutoring sessions together, it doesn’t seem like he’s putting in any effort to learn from him. But strangely enough, whenever he gives Akira practice questions on the material, he answers everything perfectly.
It’s all very bizarre. He feels like there’s something fundamental that’s missing here, that he doesn’t understand. Akira Kurusu really is an oddball.
Their tutoring sessions together slowly morph into little more than spending time together. Goro finds himself looking forward to actually “hanging out” with Akira, even if they’re not talking about philosophy. He’s startled to realize that he may actually be starting to make a friend--something that, despite his relative popularity and involvement with clubs, he really doesn’t have.
Akira, he learns as they talk, seems to have a lot of friends, despite his quiet demeanor. Goro initially feels a bit jealous of this, but it’s hard to begrudge him when they’re striking up such an easy friendship themselves. He doesn’t know what it is about Akira that makes him comfortable around him, but he thinks this is what other people must feel around him, too.
Well, at least Goro has his academics going for him.
Or so he thought, until the next philosophy test, when Akira actually manages to score one point higher than him.
Goro isn’t going to lie and say he isn’t slightly irritated by this, even though he should be proud that his tutoring seems to have paid off. But Akira didn’t even seem to try! He was barely listening during their sessions. How the hell did that make sense?
All the same, after class that day he makes sure to walk up to Akira to give him a stilted congratulations.
“I suppose you won’t be needing my services anymore, then,” he adds, trying to keep his voice pleasant.
As he turns away, he feels a hand on his arm. “Goro, wait…”
He looks back at Akira quizzically.
Akira twirls a piece of his hair in his fingers, an idle habit that Goro has come to associate with nervousness. “You mind if we hang out later? I sort of wanted to talk about all this.”
“Hm…” He could always lie and say his schedule is full. But there’s no need to be that petty. He won’t be a sore loser about it. “That’s fine.”
So that’s how he finds himself walking around the quad with Akira, after getting coffee. He learned early on that Akira was a big coffee fan, which is something they had in common. But Akira insists that the campus coffee is terrible, and he’ll have to make a better brew for Goro someday.
“It is great that you got such a good grade,” Goro says, continuing the conversation about the test. “I apologize if perhaps I seem a bit...surprised. It seemed a lot of our sessions ended up being more social than educational.”
“Yeah, they were.” Akira purses his lips together, glancing away. “I’m actually pretty good at philosophy.”
Goro blinks. “You are?”
“Look…” His fingers begin to twirl in his hair again. “I guess I haven’t been totally honest. I was never struggling in philosophy. I’ve been getting good grades the whole semester.”
That does explain how he did so well without paying attention to Goro, but…
“I don’t understand. Then why were you looking at my test?”
Akira pauses. A faint dusting of pink appears on his cheeks, barely noticeable. He takes a sip of his coffee as though to hide it. “I wasn’t actually looking at your test. I was just looking at you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be obvious or creepy or anything. I just can’t help it sometimes. You’re… cute.”
By the time he’s done talking, his blush has deepend and crawled up to his ears. Goro thinks his own face probably looks about the same.
“So then, when I offered to tutor you…”
“I took you up on it because I wanted to spend time with you,” Akira confirms. “I’m sorry for wasting your time like that. But… I think we had fun, right? So I wouldn’t say that’s a waste.”
Goro finds himself nodding absently in response, but his thoughts are jumbled and racing.
“That’s good,” Akira says, relieved. “I just… well, we’ve had some classes together and I’ve seen you around, and I guess I kind of had a little crush on you. And now that we’ve been hanging out, I like you even more.”
Goro has no idea how to respond to that. He knew something was up, but he definitely didn’t anticipate that it was this.
“I, ah,” he starts, stumbling over his words. “I suppose that was my bad, for assuming you were cheating. I’m sorry for making that assumption.”
“No, I should’ve told you,” Akira argues. “I was just too embarrassed to tell you the real reason.”
“I can understand that.” The thought of Akira trying to explain such an awkward mix-up brings a little smile to his face.
Akira relaxes at the sight of his smile, and returns it with his own. “And sorry for not paying attention to you that much. I tried, but you’re kinda distracting.”
Goro feels his face blazing again. “W-Well… that’s alright. Why don’t we just hang out from now on, without any pretense of studying?”
Akira laughs. “That sounds good.” He pauses for another moment, his gaze lowering. “Maybe… we can make it a date next time?”
He looks back up at Goro, his expression both nervous and hopeful. Goro is surprised at the fondness that flutters in his stomach as their eyes meet.
Without giving it much more thought, Goro presses closer, threading the fingers of their two free hands together. Akira’s eyes widen in surprise, and then he grins.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” Goro says.