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Anyone who had known Goro Akechi for an extended period of time would know that he had, at best, a complete non-interest in his own birthday, and at worst, an active repulsion for it. He never spoke about the day unprompted, and he was so meticulous about keeping information from the public that even his most die-hard fans were stumped as to the date.
He had plenty of excuses ready to deflect the question should it come up in an interview – though he had far fewer of those nowadays, his popularity having waned alongside public interest in the Phantom Thieves – like that a person’s birthday could be used to steal their identity, or that he didn’t want to trouble his apartment’s office with an influx of mail, or that he wanted to keep his professional life completely separate from his personal life… but it was much harder to explain himself to the people he’d come to call his friends.
There was really no good way to come out and say “I’ve never found the day of my birth to be something worth celebrating”, was there?
All of this was simply to say that when Goro Akechi stepped into Leblanc one May afternoon to find most of his acquaintances already there, crowded around the far-back booth and chatting happily with one another, he had no reason to think that this gathering was anything other than mere coincidence. Sure, they were an impossible bunch to wrangle even with the most careful of planning, and here they all were, seemingly without any forethought at all, but even after all this time, the quiet café was a respite for the ex-Phantom Thieves. If any place could bring them all together, it was Leblanc.
The Thieves greeted him loudly upon his arrival, gesturing for him to come join them, but Goro first detoured to the bar, behind which Akira was still standing, surrounded by the aroma of freshly-ground coffee. He kept his eyes on his task, pouring boiling water meticulously over the filter, but his lips quirked up in a small smile to indicate he’d definitely noticed Goro’s arrival. Nothing slipped past Akira.
“My, what a lively bunch,” Goro commented. “What brings everyone together today?”
Behind his glasses, Akira’s eyes sparkled with a mysterious, knowledgeable gleam. “Chance, I guess.”
It was an evasive answer, one that should have tripped Goro’s mental alarms immediately, but Akira’s smile always had a way of disarming him, of making him just a bit stupider.
“Is that so? How lucky that I had time off, then.”
“Very lucky,” Akira agreed. “Go on over. I’ll bring you your mug in a minute.”
He nodded towards the group, and Goro followed his gaze, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. Smack in the middle of the table sat Morgana, his tail curled around a half-full mug of coffee; Makoto and Haru sat side-by-side in the booth across from Ann and Yusuke, while Ryuji had pulled up a chair and was sitting in it backwards, his arms draped over the backside, and though Goro couldn’t see Futaba, he had no doubt she was lurking nearby, as well. The scene felt so natural, so familiar, that it was hard to believe it had been over a year since everything finally ended, since Akira and the others had pulled his battered body out of the Metaverse, willing or not, and offered him a helping hand – a second chance.
Goro had lashed out, at first – of course he had, given what he’d done – and although any anger he’d felt towards the Thieves had long since subsided, he was still convinced that their offer of friendship was just one big elaborate prank. He never said as much, but it must have been obvious from the way that, even now, he walked on eggshells around the group, approaching them cautiously, as if anticipating that the rug would be pulled out from under him at any moment.
“Goro-kun!” Ann chirped at him, slapping her hands on the table and startling Morgana awake. “Do you like camping?”
“Do I – what?”
“Camping!” Ryuji repeated. “Y’know, with tents and shit.”
“I’m aware of the concept, thank you,” Goro said, setting his briefcase down behind the booth. “Um. I haven’t been in quite some time… why do you ask?”
“We were thinking of organizing a trip,” Yusuke said. “When it came to something that would fall within all of our schedules and budgets, camping was the first suggestion…”
“Hey!” A voice piped up, right beside Goro’s ear. He flinched and turned his head sharply, nearly bumping into Futaba, who had scrambled up onto the back of the booth seat, perching there like a scrawny gargoyle. “Don’t listen to them,” she said in a loud stage whisper. “This is just a ruse to get me to spend a night outdoors, I can feel it.”
“Futaba.”
Akira appeared at Goro’s side, looking accusingly at Futaba, who immediately slid off the booth like she’d lost all her bones, crumpling into a heap on the floor.
“Anyway, we thought that since we were all here, we should plan something,” Akira explained, handing Goro his coffee, who accepted, holding it delicately with both hands. “It’s been a while, you know?”
“It would be fun to do something as a group again… we’ve been so busy now that some of us have graduated,” Haru said.
“Why don’t we aim for two weekends from now – June 1st,” Makoto suggested. She had her phone out, thumbing through her calendar thoughtfully. “That’s a Saturday, so we can leave after school gets out, and then come back late on Sunday.”
This, at last, gave Goro pause. “Ah, are you sure?” he asked. “You wouldn’t rather wait until summer vacation?”
“Nah,” Ryuji immediately replied, waving his hand. “I didn’t get to do anything for golden week, and we still have, like, a whole month until summer break. I’m goin’ crazy…”
“Besides, it’d be better to go now than to wait until July, right?” Ann said. “It’ll be so humid then.”
“Unless you think you’d have trouble getting the time off work on such short notice, Goro-kun…?” Makoto asked.
“No, no,” Goro said, quickly lifting his mug of coffee and taking a sip. It was an odd choice of days, but he couldn’t deny that their reasoning was sound, and besides, it wasn’t like any of them knew. To everyone but Goro, it was just another weekend… to assume any ulterior motive would be wildly paranoid of him. “I shouldn’t have any trouble securing those days off. Besides, it seems as though everyone else is already in agreement, doesn’t it?”
“Yes!” Haru smiled, pressing her fingertips together. “I love camping; I can recommend so many different sites… what would everyone want to do?”
“It’s gotta be someplace with a river!” Ryuji declared. “It’s so effing hot already… I wanna go swimming.”
“I don’t care where we go; I just want a fire pit so we can grill dinner!” Ann said. “That was always my favorite part of camping…”
Everyone chimed in, sharing their own ideas – listing far more activities than could possibly be crammed into a single day and night – when Akira nudged Goro lightly in the side.
“What about you?” he asked.
Goro blinked. “Me?”
“Do you want to? Go camping with us, I mean.”
“Oh.” Goro hummed, tapping his thumb on the side of his coffee mug. “Yes, of course. I’d love to come. Everyone’s so excited… it should be fun.”
It would be good for him, he reasoned with himself; he needed to spend more time outdoors. When was the last time he’d gone on a bike ride for a reason other than transportation? That he’d gone climbing? He could hardly remember.
“Good.” Akira smiled at him again, and Goro’s whole body went warm. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
In the interim two weeks, the group managed to decide on a hilly campsite, one that boasted a sizeable river cutting through a small gorge as the centerpiece of its location, and given that it was only two hours away from Shibuya by train, it was an easy winner. Several times, Goro considered bowing out, but no one ever mentioned anything about the weekend being special, and so Goro, despite himself, began to look forward to the trip.
June 1st finally arrived: a sunny, breezy day, early enough in the summer that the trees were still colored a bright new-green, their leaves not yet deepened into full maturity. Cicada season hadn’t started in earnest yet, either, so they were treated to a quiet backdrop of distant whines as they set up their campsite on nice, flat plot of land that was big enough to fit all four of the tents Haru had procured.
It was quick work between the eight of them, with Morgana giving less than helpful advice from his perch on Akira’s shoulder, and by the time they were done, their little campsite looked downright lavish. They were close to two large picnic tables and a sizeable fire pit that was surrounded by four huge log benches, and the tents, though only meant to hold two people each, were big and colorful – probably expensive, if Goro had to wager a guess. It set a pretty scene against the meadow, which was dotted with wildflowers, and the clear blue sky, where a few wispy white clouds were drifting lazily by.
There would be plenty of time for hiking and swimming the next day, so for now – with their sleeping quarters secured – they contented themselves with walking along the river, tossing rocks into the water and chatting loudly with each other. They talked about school: Akira, Ryuji, and Ann were finishing up their last year at Shujin, while Futaba had just enrolled for her first; Makoto and Goro, in turn, regaled them with stories about university life; Haru talked about the trials involved with taking over her family’s business, while Yusuke confided in them about his struggles and successes in the professional art industry.
They wove in serious conversation seamlessly with discussions about television, food, utter nonsense like that, and Goro found it relaxing – cathartic, even – to talk about such mundane things. He lowered his guard, laughing brightly, freely, so distracted that he nearly tripped on a slippery river stone, and he would have gone plummeting into the shallow waters had Akira not been there to steady him.
“You okay?” Akira asked, and Goro nodded weakly, a flush creeping up his cheeks.
Out of all the Thieves, Goro was certain he owed the most to Akira. He had been the one to lead the expedition into the Metaverse after Shido’s Palace had collapsed, he was the one to remain by Goro’s side while he was in the hospital, and he was the first to welcome him back, promising that Leblanc’s door was always open to him, although as for why he was so welcoming to the one who had nearly killed him, Goro couldn’t fathom a guess.
He knew why he accepted Akira offer, though. He’d be shocked if Akira didn’t know, too; it wasn’t as though Goro had ever been particularly subtle about the fact that he found Akira to be uniquely interesting on a decidedly un-platonic level… though it had been different, back then. After Goro’s recovery, however, and without any masks to separate them, he and Akira were free to build a genuine friendship, and for Goro… that friendship had melded with his latent attraction to Akira and turned into an affection he didn’t dare to vocalize.
He’d hoped desperately that his graduation and subsequent enrollment in university would put some distance between himself and Akira, but if anything, they were now closer than ever. Goro, however, couldn’t shake the feeling that Akira deserved better than anything Goro could offer. So he kept his feelings to himself, and that was fine. It didn’t matter that every time Akira smiled at him, Goro’s chest ached… it was no more painful than anything else he’d ever been through.
The sun was on its way to setting by the time they returned to camp, and it was while Ryuji and Ann were hauling out a large cooler filled with containers of marinating meat and chopped vegetables that Futaba suddenly approached him.
“H-hey,” she stammered, her cheeks pinked from walking in the sun all day. “Uh… you like Featherman too, right?”
Confusion briefly flitted over Goro’s face, but he nodded, and Futaba whipped out something from behind her back – a plain little bag with something sitting inside it. “I got this from a blind box the other day but I already have this one and it’d be a waste to just get rid of it SO you can have it if you want,” she blurted out in a single breath, shoving the bag into his hand and retreating as quickly as she arrived, taking shelter behind Yusuke, who was tastefully arranging meat and vegetable slices on metal skewers for grilling.
Frowning, Goro peered into the box. It was, as Futaba had alluded, some Featherman merch – a model, specifically, and a really nice model at that… way too nice to have come from a mass-produced blind box, but Goro didn’t say anything about it. He found the gesture remarkably touching, although as he went to stow the item away in his tent, he found himself even more confused as to why Futaba had decided to bring something so bulky on a camping trip…
But outside, the fire pit was blazing away, and the Thieves were already layering slabs of meat on the grill, distracting Goro from any misgiving he may have had about Futaba’s unexpected gift.
“This all looks amazing,” Goro commented. “Ann-chan, did you prep all this…?”
“Nope! It was all this guy,” Ann said, clapping Ryuji on the shoulder.
Ryuji shrugged her hand off, hiding his flustered expression. “I just got the recipe from my mom… an’ Makoto did all the shopping, so…”
“It seems everyone had something to contribute,” Goro said. “I feel a bit bad now… I wish I had something to offer.”
The group shared a knowing look that Goro couldn’t quite parse.
“Don’t worry about it,” Akira told him. He offered up a plate of metal skewers. “Let’s eat.”
Goro couldn’t recall the last time he’d eaten with this many people… in fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever shared a meal with more than two people at once. Crowding around the fire pit, they burned some of the meat in their haste to cook it, but it all came out tender and savory, and the experience of eating alongside good company did wonders for the flavor.
When they had eaten their fill, Makoto set her plate to the side and asked, “Is it time for dessert?”
“Dessert, too?” Goro asked. “You’ve certainly gone all-out.”
Yusuke stood up. “That would be our cue, Haru,” he said, and Haru gave a bubbly “yes!” before leaping to her feet as well. No one else blinked an eye at this display, leaving Goro once again feeling as though he’d been left out of an important discussion somewhere along the time.
They waited patiently for a minute or two until Haru called them over. The sun had set behind the hills now, the horizon glowing orange while the sky grew dark and the stars began to show, and in this dim light, it was obvious that there was now something glowing on the picnic table.
Slowly, Goro’s mind began to piece the clues together. The secrecy, the unexpected gift from Futaba, and now they had brought out a cake for dessert. It was a pretty cake, too, frosted with whipped cream and topped with delicately-arranged strawberries and mikan segments, but the thing that really stood out the the single candle, plain and white, stuck in the middle of the cake. The other Thieves circled around the table, fanning out until Goro and the cake were the center of attention.
“It… it’s a bit warm out for candles, isn’t it?” Goro asked, his voice faltering just slightly.
Akira shrugged. “You can blow it out, if you want. We just thought it would be nice.”
By now Goro’s face was so hot even the tips of his ears had gone red, and for a long moment, he hesitated, staring into the flickering candlelight like it might tell him something. Finally, however, he cupped his hand around the far end of the flame and blew out a quick puff of air, extinguishing the candle, and everyone seemed to let out their breath at once.
Futaba was the first to turn in for the night. The day had worn her out – she was still building up her stamina. Ann, who was sharing Futaba’s tent, decided she would go to bed then, as well; it was just easier that way. Slowly, the others trickled away, first Ryuji and Yusuke, then Makoto and Haru, who took Morgana with them, until only Goro and Akira remained sitting around the fire.
They weren’t in the mountains, exactly, but the elevation was certainly higher here, and even though it was June, the air grew almost unpleasantly cool now that the sun had set. Goro pulled his legs together and leaned in toward the fire, which had dwindled down to glowing embers, shedding soft orange light over the immediate area.
“Akira-kun?” Goro asked.
Akira turned to him, firelight dancing over the panes of his glasses, and tilted his head curiously.
“How did you know?”
“How did I know what?”
“…how did you find out that tomorrow is my birthday?”
“You’ll have to ask Futaba,” Akira said. Goro wrinkled his nose.
“Perhaps I’m better off not knowing, then.”
“Are you angry?” Akira asked.
Goro had to stop and consider this. It was certainly a breach of privacy for Futaba to research his birthday when he had so pointedly avoided revealing the date, but he couldn’t deny that he’d thoroughly enjoyed himself today.
“No,” he finally decided. “Actually, it was… nice. I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years.”
“Not even by yourself?” Akira asked.
Goro shook his head. “The day I came into the world… it never felt like an occasion worth celebrating.”
There was a long moment of silence following his confession. A log in the fire blistered and cracked, sending up a little shower of sparks into the night air.
“Well,” Akira said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
Goro turned his eyes to the sky.
Looking at the stars used to make him feel small. Imagining the whole wide world beyond the reach of his own influence used to fill him with more dread than he could imagine; it used to choke him. There was so much out there, and here he was, an insignificant speck trying to fight for the recognition and praise he thought he deserved. But what good was he in the grand scheme of things? He was never going to gain the recognition he sought in his youth – it had been an impossible dream from the very beginning – and the universe wouldn’t care one way or another.
Now, however, looking at the stars just made him a little nostalgic. It was almost comforting to know how small an impact his life would have, when you considered things on a scale that large. It meant he didn’t have to be the most important person in the world, and it meant there were certain people from whom he didn’t need validation. He didn’t need recognition from the universe at large, no…
If he could just be special to one person, Goro thought, then nothing else would matter.
Beside him, Akira tried to stifle a yawn.
“You don’t have to stay up if you’re tired, you know,” Goro said.
Akira shook his head. “You’re still up, so I’m staying up, too.”
“Don’t be stubborn,” Goro said, his cheeks going hot – radiant heat from the fire, surely. “I’m just not ready to go to sleep yet.”
“Yeah, well, me either,” Akira said. “…I still haven’t given you your gift yet.”
A pang of guilt ran through Goro. “Akira, you paid for this whole thing… you’ve given me so much already. You don’t have to give me a gift.”
“This is different.” Akira twisted a tuft of hair between his fingers, suddenly unable to look Goro’s way. “It's not just a gift for you, I guess.”
“Oh,” Goro said. He didn't exactly follow.
“I wanted to give it to you on your real birthday,” Akira added, “but now I’m afraid you’re not going to like it…”
“Well, you have about five more minutes to agonize,” Goro said, checking his phone to confirm the time. “It’s nearly midnight.”
In the dark, it was impossible to see if Akira had something with him, but Goro didn’t notice anything that looked like a present. They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the distant trickle of the river rushing by.
“I really like spending time with you, Goro,” Akira finally said, his voice as soft and soothing as the night breeze. “I like it when you come visit me at Leblanc.”
“I – I’m glad,” Goro stammered, caught off-guard by this sudden admission. “I rather enjoy spending time with you, as well. It’s good to know my presence isn’t a burden to you.”
Akira laughed, just a quiet little amused noise. “What? Of course not. Did you think that?”
Goro shifted uncomfortably on the smooth log seat. “It’s just… after everything I did, it’s hard to believe…”
“Goro.”
Akira was much closer now, crowding into Goro’s personal space.
“Akira…?” he asked, though even he wasn't so self-depreciating that he couldn’t read Akira’s body language.
The tips of his fingers prickled with nerves as Akira tilted his head to the side, leaning forward to brush his lips delicately over Goro’s. He was less confidant than Goro had imagined he would be, almost nervous with the way he kept his hands pointedly to himself, and for a moment, that was all they did, just sat there with their mouths resting against each other, before Akira pulled back, all too quickly for Goro’s liking. When he opened them again, Akira’s eyes were wide, gleaming in the firelight, looking almost as though he didn’t believe that he’d actually done it.
“…there,” he said, flexing his hand nervously against the log. “That’s my gift. You don’t have to accept it, but… now you know.”
Unconsciously, Goro brought his fingers to his lips, his breath coming in quicker now. “Akira, you…?” he asked, his tone saturated with disbelief.
“Yeah.” Akira gave a quiet, whispery laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I sort of thought that maybe you felt that way, too… like I said, you don't have to–”
“Only one?” Goro blurted out, cutting him off.
Akira shut his mouth, furrowing his eyebrows.
Goro cleared his throat and dropped his hand. “My gift… was that all there was?” he asked. His heart was hammering in his chest, shivers rippling over his skin, but he forced a shy smile to his face and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I don’t mean to sound selfish, but…” he crept closer, his fingers brushing over Akira's leg, “it is my birthday, Akira-kun.”
Akira let out a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he said, bringing a hand to rest on Goro’s cheek. “There’s more… as many as you want, Goro.”
In the dark, illuminated by nothing more than the starlight and the dying fire smoldering beside them, they gravitated together again, their fingers intertwined as they met for another kiss.