Archive of Our Own

The Detective Prince is on the TV again. It’s probably been the best entertainment Ren has had since moving in, when he’s not busy with school or looking after the stray cat that kept visiting him. It’s boring, working at the café most of the time, but not like beggars can be choosers. It was a coincidence, one day turning on the TV and finding himself eye-to-eye with Mr. Detective Prince, Goro Akechi. Well, eye-to-TV. 

Ren had let the TV play one time, when even his phone had gotten boring, much to Sojiro’s curiosity. He glanced at it before returning to his coffee, saying, “It’s that kid again.” 

“You know him?” 

“Who doesn’t?” Sojiro’s easy reply had come, turning around again. “He’s quite a sensation, that kid. Always running from place to place, being interviewed… he shows up even in your soup.” 

Ren couldn’t help the small laugh coming out of him. So the Detective Prince is quite the celebrity in Japan, it seemed. Turning his attention back to the interview going on, Ren finds himself quite engrossed on it. There’s a clear reason why he’s so big in Japan—the Prince nickname wasn’t in vain. He was charming, funny, kind, and sweet. 

He’d call himself a fan too, why not.  

So he did—he zapped channels in the afternoon, looking for the absolutely charming Detective Prince in any TV station. He was part of a game-show, which is where he got his fame—he was the smartest member of the bunch and gained multiple fans because of his witty sense of humor and happy personality. Admirable, really.  

Was he actually smart, though? Or was it a scripted game-show? It didn’t really matter much; Goro Akechi’s talking sections during the show were the most interesting part. There was something quite charming about him, about the bright smiles and the perfectly-timed lame jokes he had. It’s the dorky-but-endearing persona, the absolutely polite Prince he was.  

“Again?” Sojiro jerks his head towards the TV, where Goro Akechi shines in all his beautiful might. “You’ve grown quite attached to him.” 

Ren shrugs. “He’s cute. Very funny.” 

Sojiro shakes his head at him. “I still don’t understand that show.” 

“It’s just a mystery show,” Ren explains. “Each episode the cast gets a new case—and they have to play games to solve riddles and all.” 

“Sounds pretty childish.” 

“It’s mostly about serial killers,” he continues, and now Sojiro grimaces. “I binge-watched all of season one. This is the second season, apparently.” 

“What does your dream boy do?” 

“Ah, he’s the smartest member, their Detective Prince,” Ren says, proud, like he actually knows Goro Akechi. “He’s the youngest in the team but everyone likes him. This season is focused in one serial killer only, but Akechi is the most important one, because he’s their smartest detective. So his screen time is upped now.” 

“You think it’s because he’s so popular?” 

“Yeah.” Ren is glad, anyway, he spent most of the first season waiting for Goro Akechi to show up in every episode. “They’re currently filming the third season.” 

“So quickly?” Sojiro’s eyebrows raise up a bit. “I wonder when does the kid ever rest.” 

Ren does so, too. He’s become quite a follower of Goro Akechi in a very short amount of time—he follows him on Twitter, reads his food blog every now and then, and watched all his interviews available when he should be doing very important things, like homework. Ann had already nagged at him to please focus on his actual deadlines, but Ren loves to play dumb and queue another Goro Akechi video for fun.  

“Anyway, thanks for the information,” Sojiro finishes putting food on a container and puts it in a bag. “I gotta go take Futaba some food. You’ll be good running this place for a while, right?” 

Ren nods. Sojiro smiles, grateful. “Thanks, kid. Have fun.” 

Sojiro leaves, making Ren pay full attention to the show again. The episode is almost ending, and Goro Akechi had successfully deduced that the real killer was the five year old boy, instructed by his babysitter. Jesus. Talk about a dark turn of events. As the episode ends, quite in an unsatisfactory way, the door opens again and Ren gets ready to attend a client.  

It’s Goro Akechi.  

Ren thinks he’s dreaming. He must be dreaming. Goro Akechi looks exactly the same as he does in TV—his signature uniform is on, suitcase in one gloved hand, long and soft hair. What is he doing here?  

“Welcome,” Ren finds his voice, somehow. “What can I serve you?” 

He looks tired. Ren is quite shocked to find that he does look different from how he sees him in the TV—there’s an unguarded expression covering his features right now: his eyes are zoned out, and once he looks up at Ren’s voice it’s almost like he’s a different person again.  

“Hello,” he says, voice calm and in a pleasant tone like always. “Um, I’d like to order a coffee. Is there anything that’s not black, but not overly sweet either?” 

“I can make that.” 

“Thank you very much.” Goro Akechi sits down, putting his suitcase on the floor, and taking out his phone.  

It’s quiet now. Ren is dying to say anything. Maybe be like, ‘aren’t you that guy from the TV?’ There is just something stopping him. It’s the tired expression—Ren has a feeling that if he were to announce he knows him, Goro Akechi would be uncomfortable in less than a second. There is clearly a mask put on him to not be too tired, probably maintaining a pleasant image.  

Ren feels like a bit of a dick for liking his TV persona so much.  

Motivating himself to make the best coffee-not-coffee of all time, his brain works faster than usual to measure how much cream would Akechi like, and if it’d cheer him up if he tried drawing something on his coffee, like a happy face or a heart. Would he know, then? Would Akechi call him out for trying too hard on a normal client? Or would he patiently take it, with a pleasant smile on his lips?  

Just make the damn coffee, Amamiya.  

He does go for the coffee art, though, just a smiley face. That’s about as normal as it gets.  

“Here’s your order,” Ren places the drink in front of him. Goro Akechi looks up from his phone, offering him a smile, and Ren can’t help but give one back.  

Discreetly, Ren watches him snap a pic of his coffee, and his heart flutters with excitement. Is Ren going to feature in his food blog? That would be great advertisement for their place. But also… that would mean a million of fans swarming in to see Goro Akechi, by any chance, and that would mean he’d never see him again. Not like he would miraculously see Goro Akechi everyday anyway, but the thought of LeBlanc becoming too popular for the wrong reasons sticks on his head.  

It bothers him. He’s got to speak up.  

“Excuse me,” Ren says, watching Akechi raise his head again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t post that on your food blog.” 

“Oh. So you know who I am,” Just as suspected, Akechi slips on a perfect smile as his mask, like he wasn’t looking tired five seconds ago. “I suppose it was wrong of me to assume you didn’t. Normally, people already greet me like they know me.” 

Ren shrugs. “Why would I? Wouldn’t that make you uncomfortable? You just came to order something.” 

“You mean that?” Short and polite, Akechi laughs. “I must say, that’s the most polite anyone has ever treated me. I appreciate it.” Taking a sip of his coffee, he continues, “This tastes lovely.” 

Nodding, Ren starts to clean again. Akechi’s presence is making him nervous—he’s not really sure if he should be filling in the silence. He’s not talkative to other customers, so he shouldn’t be making an exception for him alone. Plus, taking in stride everything, maybe Akechi needed some damn peace and quiet.  

Sojiro’s words go around his head again: when does he rest? Maybe this was his rest. Ren wasn’t about to force some small-talk between them. Goro Akechi wordlessly scrolls through his phone, taking a few sips of his coffee, looking like another regular guy and not a big celebrity. It’s wild. Even Ren’s initial wave of excitement is calming down.  

“So you know me,” Akechi starts, putting down his phone. His eyes focus on Ren, and even with the smile drawn on his face, it’s impossible to not tell that his eyes are full of thoughts, no doubt analyzing him to his very bones. “Do you want a picture? An autograph, perhaps? You’re oddly quiet for a fan.” 

Ren levels him with a look. “No one said anything about me being a fan.” Except he kind of was.  

“I see. A hater, then?” 

“Are you using the word hater unironically?” It somehow makes Akechi laugh. “I just see you on the TV sometimes. You’re good at investigations.” 

“So a casual fan.” 

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Ren says at last. “Look, you’re a client, and I just want you to enjoy your coffee. You must be busy a lot. Relax.” 

He looks shocked after Ren says that, but wastes no time to compose himself again.  

“Thank you,” his voice sounds quieter than usual. Ren waves him off. “What’s your name?” 

Weird turn of events. “Ren Amamiya.” 

Smiling around his cup, Goro Akechi takes another sip. “Nice to meet you, Ren Amamiya. You make really good coffee.” 

“You should try Boss’ sometime,” he finds himself saying. “His is out of this world.” 

“I shall make a mental appointment for this.” Continuing to drink, Akechi spins a little on his seat to observe the café. Good thing Boss insists on Ren cleaning it as often as possible. “This is a cozy place.” 

“Yup.” 

“Do you work here full-time?” 

“Yup,” Ren says again, and then drills his brain for a better answer. Goro Akechi is talking. “I live in the attic.” 

Well, damn.  

Akechi turns around to stare at him, eyebrows slightly raised in surprise. “Is it comfortable?” 

“Sure. I mean, I sleep well.” 

“That’s what we all need sometimes, don’t we?” Akechi laughs amicably. “Unfortunately, I don’t always sleep well.” 

“Work, right? Must be hard.” 

“You know what they say: if you truly love something, you’re never really working.” There’s… something about the way he says it that irks Ren. Clearly, he could be reading between lines—not like he could analyze someone he just properly met like this. “So it doesn’t matter how little I sleep. Moving on to something more important, I’ve noticed—you must have recently moved in, haven’t you? There is no way you grew up in an attic, and given how you work here, I can only assume it was part of a deal—move in here, work to pay bills.” 

Ren blinks. “You’re an actual detective?” 

Akechi laughs. “It’s not all an act, I’m afraid. Did I get anything wrong?” 

“Just the pay bills part. I go to school. Boss is just making sure I’m not actually a delinquent, but I think he likes someone to run the café. I don’t think he believes me to be a criminal.” 

“What could you have possibly been charged for?” 

“Eh, you know. Big politician frames you of assault one day, the next day you get kicked out of everything you know.” Ren pushes his glasses up. “No biggie.” 

Goro Akechi has gone still. His eyes have gained an icy undertone, like he’s scrutinizing Ren for any type of lies. It’s weird, really, and it’s not like Ren just drops this type of information—it’s not exactly a secret, either. His friends and everyone at school knows; so what if Goro Akechi knew now? He’s innocent, and that peace is what matters. 

“That must be terrible.” His fists are tightly closed, to the point that Ren is glad he was not holding his coffee right now. “I am deeply sorry.” 

“You believe me?” 

“I have no reason to doubt you, so far.” Akechi shakes his head. “It is truly an unfair world we live in—I too would know a thing or two about adults screwing up with me.” He inhales, loosing his fists, and continues, “It is good to know that all in all, you are as okay as someone can be.” 

“Yeah. It’s a privilege.” Ren isn’t all that happy about suddenly sharing that much information, but at least Akechi’s eyes are glinting again, more mischievous than calculating. “Thanks.” 

“No, thank you,” Akechi smiles at him. “This was a truly marvelous chat and coffee. I look forward to tasting… Boss’, was it?” 

Ren nods. 

“I will be seeing you very soon.” He extends his hand towards Ren, and very bewildered, Ren shakes it. 

Goro Akechi gathers his suitcase, gives him another smile, and finally walks away. 

It’s a good twenty minutes later that Sojiro walks back into LeBlanc and finds Ren watching Goro Akechi’s show again.  

“Seriously?” 

“Boss, you’ll never believe what happened.” 

Two days after their fateful encounter, Ren is very tired, but still helping out Sojiro at the café. Ren loves his friends, deeply and truthfully, he is extremely glad for their presence in his life right now. Things would be sadder and harder without them. But sometimes—having friends is difficult, and it’s hard to not feel bad for thinking like that.   

Ren can’t be everywhere at once, but he tries. There is nothing better than helping out his friends, seeing the glad look on their faces when they figure out something with Ren, and the moments are memories Ren will never forget. Still, he’s not an introvert, but some things do tire him out. Like right now.   He’s been dragging his feet when he walks, to the point where he can feel Sojiro one breath away from telling him to go back to the attic if he’s not feeling well enough. Which is stupid. He’s just tired, that’s it. 

His arm feels annoyingly heavy as he grinds some more beans—something about learning ‘artisanal coffee’ today, and this wouldn’t be a big deal, had Ren not been so tired already. The earlier wave of customers had left again, leaving Sojiro and Ren to experiment with coffee as they pleased, so this is where he was at now. That is until the door opens, and yet again Goro Akechi walks in, this time wearing a different jacket and a scarf. 

“Welcome,” Sojiro says, and then, probably without even meaning to: “You’re that kid.” 

Akechi stops, closing the door behind him and offering a polite smile. “Yes, that’s me.” 

Ren waves at him, awkwardly, because it’s not like they’re friends or anything. “What can I get you?” 

“I assume this man here is the ‘Boss’ I heard of two days ago,” he continues, walking and sitting down in front of Ren, “so I am here to try his magnificent coffee. I wonder if it lives up to the praise it received?” 

“You been talking about me, hm?” Sojiro gives Ren one look. Ren feels a bit smug, really—especially when Sojiro is looking so proud of himself. “Alright. Do you take your coffee with something, kid?” 

“Ah, just cream. Not too much, though, haha. I hope my tastes aren’t too annoying for a coffee-maker such as yourself.” 

Sojiro waves him off and heads to make his coffee, leaving Ren with Goro Akechi again. Ren has no idea how to act, and honestly, why should he know? He’s just a client, he should treat him like he treats everyone else. He can’t help the thought that maybe Akechi is here to see him, but the thought dies as soon as it shows up: LeBlanc is a café not-well known. Akechi must crave the bit of privacy he could gather sometimes. 

“So,” Ren finds himself saying again, despite how socializing has been draining him out. “Were you filming something?” 

“Ah, yes. It so happens we have shoots around here these days for the third season,” Akechi replies. “We’ve been working really hard.” 

“Any spoilers?” 

“I’m afraid my lips are sealed,” Akechi smiles. “Why, I thought you called yourself a casual fan.” 

“I want to leak the plot online.” 

Akechi breaks into laughter, and the fact it doesn’t feel forced or practiced makes Ren’s tiredness leave slightly. Socializing suddenly is okay again.  

“It’s the fact you said it deadpanning that gets me,” Akechi finally gets it together, sitting up straight again. “Ah—where are my manners, really? We’ve been talking about me this entire time. What have you been up to?” 

His chin is resting on his hand, genuinely invested on what Ren was about to say. Or was he? Goro Akechi is an actor, used to being in front of cameras all the time. He’s still Ren’s client, though, and having his clients have a good experience is part of his job. So he does entertain him with his day. 

“I’ve been hanging out with my friends from school,” Ren answers, “we all got together to eat burgers and do homework. Then I stayed behind to help my friend Yusuke with an art piece, and here I am. Working.” 

“Quite the busy schedule, I see. Do you know anything about art, Amamiya?” 

“Absolutely nothing. I just am there as moral support for Yusuke.” 

Akechi laughs again. “Ah, your honesty is truly refreshing, did you know?” 

“I know that now.” Ren is about to ask him if he knows anything back, but Sojiro shows up, Akechi’s order on his hand.  

“Want anything with that?” Sojiro asks at last. 

“No, no, I’m completely fine with this. Thank you so much.” Taking a sip, his eyes widen and he looks up to Sojiro like he hung the stars on the sky. “This is marvelous. Amamiya’s good with coffee, too, but this is quite its own league. I commend you, sir, wholeheartedly.” 

Ren can tell Sojiro is one step away from puffing his chest out in pride. Ruffling Ren’s hair, though, he says: “Kid will be good in no time. Aren’t you going to post about this in your food blog?” 

At the mention of the blog, Akechi stiffens a little. “You know about my blog?” 

“Ren doesn’t shut up about you,” Sojiro says off-handedly. Ren will not lose his cool, not even after being horribly exposed like this. Akechi’s eyebrows shoot up, but he does a good job of being calm about everything. It’s a skill Ren is poorly trying to imitate right now. “He made me read some. So, aren’t you?” 

“My apologies, but I feel quite selfish today,” Akechi smiles—it’s that smile, the one he gives to his fellow actors on TV, and the one he gives to every interview. It’s what Ren calls his ‘dealing-with-adults’ smile. “I would not want anyone else to know about this precious diamond in the rough.” 

Sojiro sighs. “Fine. Do whatever you want.” Turning to Ren, continues, “I’ll prepare dinner for Futaba. Be right back.” 

Ren nods, already regretting the fact he’s alone with Goro Akechi once more. As soon as he turns around, the smile playing on his lips tells him he’s going to be questioned. This smile doesn’t look as fake as the other one—it’s almost like he enjoys teasing Ren.  

“What happened to being a casual fan?” Akechi asks. “You know, I do not appreciate people who lie to me. Just as we were talking about your honesty.” 

“Guess you never truly know people.” 

“Ah, how right you happen to be, Amamiya,” he takes another sip of his coffee. “You could say I’m a fan of yours, too.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Unlike you, I never lie.” He’s lying right now. It’s written all over his face. It’s hilarious. “There’s something about you I can’t quite put my finger on, Amamiya. Something about you is different.” 

His eyes are piercing Ren by this point. He can’t help but note how the color suits him perfectly; like if his eyes were any other color, the intensity of his gaze wouldn’t be so much. Luckily for Ren, he doesn’t crack easily, so he only stares back. 

“I consider myself a good judge of character,” Akechi continues, gently stirring his coffee, “To survive in the industry I work in, you have to trust your gut. You have to develop defenses and get references on everyone. Do you know how that is, Amamiya? It’s hard to trust. It’s easy to spot the fake ones.” His lips curving up, he continues, “You don’t strike me as one of them. I could be wrong, though.” 

“Do you have those speeches always rehearsed?” Ren asks, only to break the momentary tension. That was a lot to think about later. “I can tell you grew up acting.” 

“And you wouldn’t be wrong about that.” Goro Akechi laughs again. “You are quite interesting. I’d love to talk to you more.” 

Ren watches as he grabs a napkin and takes out a pen from his coat—of course he’s the type to carry a pen everywhere—and slowly jots down something. He slides the napkin to him, and with more shock than he should have had he sees Akechi’s number on it. “Your number?” 

“Of course.” 

“Are you flirting with me?” 

“Am I?” he counters.  

“I’ll decide to not answer that,” Ren says. “Thanks.” 

He jots down his own, too, and slides it back to Akechi, who takes it and saves it with his pen back on his coat. “This coffee is quite amazing.” 

“Told you. Boss is on another level. I’ll catch up, eventually.” 

“You almost make me want to try to make coffee, too, if only to rival you.” 

Ren snorts. “That’s an odd thing to say to someone.” 

“Yet you’re not surprised, are you?” 

“Eh. I suppose nothing surprises me anymore. Goro Akechi from the funny detective show has my number. What else could surprise me?” 

Akechi nods. “What else, indeed?” 

Idly chatting with him while Ren pretends to clean up the counter again, he finishes his drink, and gets up. “This has been a lovely time. I really am going to become a regular, you know?” 

“That’s great,” Ren says, pathetically, before recovering and adding: “I’ll be holding your word to it.” 

Shaking his head, he turns around and leaves, leaving behind a very confused Ren. There clearly seemed to be no choice but to overanalyze every line they had spoken and go through every possible double-meaning in his words. Sojiro comes back, asking if he wants to come have dinner with him and Futaba, and he quickly agrees. 

“So, is he your friend now?” Sojiro asks as he closes the café. 

“No clue. Maybe.” Ren answers, because really, the case isn’t as obvious as he’d think. “I think we may be becoming friends.” 

“Good. He seems like a polite kid. He could use some rest at the café.” 

“Aw, Boss, you’re a softie.” 

Sojiro doesn’t answer him, only takes one look at him and rolls his eyes. 

[Ren]: this is me holding you to your word 

[Goro Akechi]: Ah, so you texted after all. Don’t worry. I intend to fulfill my promise plenty. :)  

“Delivery?” asks Ren, just in case he actually misheard it.  

“Yeah, I mean, why not?” Sojiro scratches his head. “I already told people they’d be receiving their orders. Don’t worry, it’s all nearby. A little exercise won’t hurt you, will it?” 

“I guess not,” Ren sighs with the only type of tiredness a grumpy seventeen-year-old can muster. “Where to?” 

“I’ll write a list,” Sojiro says. “I put coffee on a thermos and some bagels, in case you get hungry mid-delivery.” 

Just like that, he stops being grumpy. “Thanks, Boss.” 

Sojiro waves him off as he hands him a list and the coffees he should be taking in one very organized bag, and another one to keep his thermos and snacks. What was the point of delivering coffee, though? The whole charm was in coming to the place. 

Well, it’s whatever—a good walk always helps the most troubled of minds. Not like Ren has many thoughts going on, but it’s nice to have an opportunity to outline them. Exams approaching, losing sleep to them; losing more nap-times from helping his friends to study, too. It’s not the end of the world, really, nothing bad about not sleeping a bit sometimes. The question of why he’s doing so much hits him more than he’d like to admit.  

He could lie and say he doesn’t care about his grades, say that he only wanted to make sure his friends passed. But it’s been little things like this, ever since he got transferred here, that have been weighing heavy on him: trying to prove to everyone that he really isn’t what all his rumors said. Ryuji would scoff at him, tell him that he has nothing to prove—him being him is all that mattered, and all that. It’s just personal, somehow, wanting to do good. Wanting to be needed. Proving back at everyone who misjudged him that he’s not what they all thought of him, abolish their perception of him.  

It’s only taking a toll on him; his own pressure falling on his shoulders like tons of bricks at once.  

Luckily, it’s time for a deliver, so he can put his brain on hold. He’s only delivering to old people—most likely people Boss knew, so, suddenly Ren is okay with delivery again.  

Mid-walk, Ren’s favorite stray cat joins him in, so of course his brain decides to stop for the rest of the walk. He hasn’t seen him in a while, and the little cat never abandons Ren once he spots him walking alone. He’s glad he has a little friend to walk back home with.  

As he keeps walking, there’s a weird thing going on: some of the streets are absolutely closed. There’s got to be a center to this. He tries to get a peek, walking closer to the source, only to find himself with a million cameras and there it is: Goro Akechi, with his makeup artist making it better for his face. 

Ah, Goro Akechi… 

They’ve been talking a lot via messages; it’s just hard to actually see him face to face. He’s a busy guy, of course, and he replies to Ren mostly at night, sometimes at very worrying hours like three in the morning. Ren would say they’re friends, maybe, just more online friends than real life friends.  

Maybe it’s that what convinces Ren to march towards the filming sites, and once he’s stopped by a security guard, he says: “I’m Goro Akechi’s friend.” 

The security guard sneers. “You’re pulling that one? I recognize his crazy fans when I see them.” 

“Aren’t we all fans of our friends?” Ren counters. The guard isn’t impressed. “I brought him food.” 

“Kid, let’s do this on the nice way. You’re not the first fan who tries to win him over with food. This is a private filming zone. I am politely requesting you to step away.” 

“Fine, I’ll call him,” Ren takes out his phone. Dialing up, he watches as Akechi picks up, a strange look on his face. “Hey, I brought you food.” 

“Are you serious?”  

“Look behind you,” he says, and watches as Akechi does as he’s told. His face is comically surprised. “The guards want to kick me out.” 

Akechi’s face breaks into a smile. “I’m on my way.”  

Ten seconds later, the security guard sees Akechi coming over and smiling politely at him. “This is my friend, yes. I will be talking to him for a minute.” 

The security guard doesn’t reply, and Ren feels too smug to let this go. 

 “I knew we were friends,” Ren says, unable to let go. “But it’s satisfying to hear it from you.” 

“Sounds like you’re very easy to please, if this is what satisfies you.” Once they’re at a safe distance from the set, Akechi says, “It’s good to see you.” 

That catches Ren off guard. He tries to not let it show it, so he follows up by saying, “Yeah, you too. I actually did bring you food.” 

He takes out the thermos and the bagels, handing them to Akechi. He’s clearly surprised now—maybe he didn’t actually expect him to have food. 

“Did you… stalk me to find me?” Akechi is holding them like he’s holding foreign objects. “How are you here?” 

“Boss sent me on as his new delivery guy, and I happened to stumble upon you,” Ren answers. “I figured you probably haven’t eaten yet.” 

“I haven’t,” the honesty is fun. It’s a good look on him. “Have you eaten yet?” 

“Yep. I’ll eat more at home. You can have these bagels.” 

“I’m… I’m afraid I’ll ruin my makeup…” Akechi sighs, almost painful.  

“Eh, you have multiple assistants to help you with that. How is their star detective going to act without food?” Smirking, he gestures at the food again. “Have a bite. I’ll pour you some coffee. I didn’t bring cream by the way, this was really spontaneous.” 

“I can see that. I’ll live with black coffee,” Akechi sounds a little too amazed right now. He takes a bite and closes his eyes. “Marvelous.” 

Ren chuckles, “This is the first time I’ve ever seen someone so happy to eat bagels.” 

“Trust me, this is probably the best food I’ve had today.” He accepts the small cup Ren hands him gratefully, taking a sip, and closing his eyes again. “Not bad.” 

“I think Boss deserves more than ‘not bad’.” 

“Oh, this is Boss’? My apologies. This is the best black coffee I’ve ever had.” 

“Good. You better say that to him, too.” Ren stops as he watches him eat for a second. “When are you free again?” 

“Could it be that you are missing me?” Akechi asks him, and just because he did that, Ren feels compelled to say he didn’t. 

“Nope. Just curiosity.” 

“Well, I’ve had tight schedules for this week, but they’re letting me off the hook this weekend. I do have more homework than anticipated before.” He grows grim the more he speaks, immediately taking another bite of the bagel like that could help him regain his mood. “I may try to make time for you. Perhaps, if the occasion rises.” 

“I am that important, huh?” Ren takes a look at Akechi and almost bursts out laughing. “Hey, Akechi, you…” 

Akechi tilts his head. His face is filled with crumbs. Ren wants to reach out and put them away with his own hand, but hey, it’s going to be funnier if his make-up artist sees it. “It’s nothing. Hey, did you know I make really good curry?” 

“What is this out of nowhere?” 

“You said this bagel was your best food. I’m going to show you I make better than those bagels.” 

“You’re a man of many promises, are you not?” Akechi shakes his head.  

He finishes his bagel and his coffee as they keep idly chatting, Ren catching him up with his day and begging for spoilers again. 

“As much as this is a pleasant surprise, I’ve got to get back to my job,” Akechi says. “Thank you. I appreciate you feeding me.” 

“Don’t word it like that. It’s weird. But you’re welcome. Don’t… overwork yourself, Akechi.” 

“You should call me Goro,” Akechi takes him by surprise. “Didn’t we say we are friends, earlier?” 

Ren breaks into a huge smile. 

“You are way too easy to please.” 

“It’s how I live, Goro.” 

He legitimately looks bewildered when he hears his own name. “Ha, well, I guess I could afford to live more like you… Ren.” 

Okay, now he gets it. 

They both part ways as Ren looks at him go back to his place, and absolutely does not hold back his laughter when he hears the make-up artist exclaim, “Akechi-kun! What have you done to your face?!”  

[Goro]: You’re smarter than this. Come on. 

[Goro]: Implying that I’d be the murderer in season 3 is absolutely stupid. Not to mention, very cheap writing, and on top of that, clearly predictable. 

[Ren]: well idk I was just saying. People like bad boys. 

[Goro]: Should I be concerned that you think a ‘bad boy’ is specifically someone who commits murders? Or should I be more concerned that you’re apparently into bad boys? 

[Ren]: I said ‘people’, not ‘me’ specifically. I’m into nice boys. Bad boys. Any type of boys. Detective boys like you 

[Goro]: Ah, how bold of you. 

[Ren]: ;) 

[Ren]: you know what they say about three in the morning. Never better to be honest 

[Goro]: do they now? My first time hearing about this. 

[Ren]: what type of boys are YOU into 

[Goro]: Pass. This isn’t twenty questions. 

[Ren]: it could be! 

[Goro]: Okay, fine. What’s your favorite food? 

[Ren]: whatever boss cooks. My turn, are you into guys  

[Goro]: not one for subtlety, are you? Yes, I am. 

[Ren]: :) 

[Ren]: im a guy 

[Goro]: I can see. 

[Ren]: you can connect the two dots 

[Goro]: There are no dots to connect, I’m afraid. 

[Ren]: why do you hate me. 

[Goro]: I have homework to tend to. Stop being a crybaby. 

[Ren]: shouldn’t you go to sleep? 

[Goro]: You’re a funny one. 

As funny as it is, keeping up good grades and managing a café is killing him. It’s that stupid thing— wanting to prove people, but above everyone, himself: he can be a good kid. He used to not care about this before the incident, but now? It’s like it’s consuming his brain. Study hang-outs are eating him inside: the more he helps his friends with their personal issues besides school, the more he finds himself drained. It’s awful. It’s awful that people need him and he can’t deliver what they need from him. 

It could be that he’s wrong. Maybe he’s way too over his head—thinking he’s that important and mighty to people’s lives, that only he and he alone can help everyone. Maybe he’s developed a complex he was not aware of before, and it’s ultimately him who’s bringing despair to himself. School and socializing should not bring this much discomfort. It shouldn’t.  

Almost like he’s attuned to his moods, Goro walks into the café, and he doesn’t look any better than how Ren feels like. It’s the first time his mask has been so broken: Ren gets to see many sides of him during the few times they hang out and the odd video-call between them, but this is the most vulnerable. It’s almost weird, how comforting it is, to know they can both be having a bad day together and work their way up. 

“Bad day?” Ren asks. 

“You can say that again.” Goro is almost dragging himself to the stool, like a true suffering soul.  

Ren puts his hand over his, trying for the comforting physical touch, and Goro immediately snaps up to look at him. Oops. Maybe that was too much. Removing it, Ren says, “I don’t think coffee can get us through today.” 

“It’s that bad for you, mm?” Goro nods. “Sadly, I am not much different.” 

“I have an idea,” Ren proposes. “I bet it’s going to lift up our moods.” 

Goro looks up at him curiously. Ren gestures him to follow, and somehow, without questioning, Goro does. 

Behind the café and carrying two boxes each, Goro asks, “What exactly do these boxes contain?” 

“Broken plates, mostly,” Ren replies, calm. “They’re all plates that we ordered that either came wrong or accidentally got dropped.” 

“…Two whole boxes?” 

“It’s from before I moved in. They’re pretty old now.” 

Pursing his lips, Goro says, “I’m not sure what we’re going to do.” 

Ren stops, putting down his box and urging Goro to do the same. He gestures at the empty space between the café like it answered Goro’s inquiries, and when he still looks confused, Ren decides to be more straightforward. He looks around his surroundings—surely, he left it somewhere before… 

Right beside the garbage container, the slightly-old-plastic pipe is resting. It’s what they use to keep the lid up. Ren turns to Goro, pipe in hand, and smiles. “We’re going to smash some plates.” 

“W—what? Why?” 

“Stress reliever.” Ren smiles, wider now, “Come on. Are you scared of a little teenage delinquency?” 

“This isn’t “delinquency”, by all means. We are merely smashing already smashed plates.” Goro pauses. “That was a mouthful. You really think this is going to help?” 

“Yup. Breaking stuff is a needed evil sometimes.” He throws the pipe to Goro, who catches it easily. “We’ll do it like baseball. I throw a plate, you smash.” 

“You...” Goro starts, looking at Ren in a very strange way. “You really are an impressive person.” 

“Whatever you say. Get in position.” 

Ren takes out a plate as Goro grabs the pipe with both hands. This plate is smashed in half, so technically, he’s only taking half. He aims, and throws not too harsh—god, what if he actually hurt Goro?—but not too light. Goro smashes it, and they both watch how the plate crumbles down to the floor, pitifully. 

Goro bursts out laughing. Ren can’t help but laugh too. 

“Told you, stress reliever,” Ren grins proudly, “Get in position.” 

Another one, and another one, and another one… 

They’re both laughing without any reason, content with just breaking down plates. Eventually, they switch places, and Ren feels at least ten times lighter than he has the entire week, simply smashing plates away. It’s funnier, too, when Goro starts acting like he’s a real coach—“Straighten your back, don’t be so brash,”— and it’s like the world ceases to exist for a moment. Like all the insecurities and worries fade away from Ren’s mind, as they keep switching turns and make a mess behind LeBlanc. 

Finally, when they run out of plates, Goro smiles.  

“I was just…” Goro gets a little far-away look on his eyes. It’s his usual ‘I’m about to admit something really hard for me’ that Ren has come to understand. “Feeling crushed under my responsibilities.” 

“I get that.” 

“Do you?” he eyes him, curiously. “You never strike me as the type to give in under pressure.” 

“Neither do you,” Ren answers. 

“I’m an actor. I know how to play my role.” Smiling sadly, Goro continues. “I suppose… that’s the root of my problems. I got myself in this mess where I can’t ever be myself—always putting on a mask for everyone to see. Craving the love, the admiration… focusing on an image so much I almost started to forget how it was like to truly be me.” 

Ren is in a weird state—at the very core of his feelings, he understands what Goro is going through: they’re simply too different to properly relate, but at the very least, he gets it.  

“It’s caught up to me lately, I guess. Fulfilling academic roles, not missing a single schedule, endless filming hours with no one who is my age—surrounded by people who expect me to act a certain way, who never care about what goes on in my life… It’s exhausting. It’s hard to live to unrelenting standards every day of your life. It’s hard, not having anyone around. It’s hard to have the world on your hands and still feel so… isolated.”  

He grits out his last words, growing bitter with each breath, and Ren feels really stupid to almost say, ‘you have me, though.’ This isn’t the time to make it about himself. The pure look of distaste on his face tells him this is something that runs deeper: this is probably something Goro hasn’t shared to anyone. Never the one to be too comforting, Ren runs to the other comforting option he knows—sharing your own story to make sure others don’t feel alone. 

“I think my probation is draining me out,” Ren starts. It’s odd. He hasn’t mentioned this out loud, nor acknowledged it properly on his own. “I say I don’t care about rumors, but I’m not happy with this image that was created of me. It’s out of my hands. And now I overcompensate for it, giving my all for everyone, and I don’t know how to balance it. It’s weird.” 

Goro looks at him, appreciative. His face has softened up, less bitter, more understanding. 

“You and I seem to have some image issues, don’t we, Ren?” 

“Yeah.” 

“They’re both the same, yet very drastically different. Two sides of the same coin, if you may.” Okay, maybe Ren wasn’t so awful at comforting people like he thought. “What do you suggest we do? Perhaps smash more plates until our problems float away?” 

Ren’s smile is lopsided. “I think you should say fuck on national TV, at least once. That’d ease your problems.” 

Goro’s laughter is incredulous. “Say what?” 

“Fuck. Let Goro Akechi say fuck,” Ren continues. “The only way to break unrelenting standards is to shatter them.” 

“Like plates?” 

“No, maybe slower.” Ren pauses, choosing his words carefully. Goro is listening, and he truly may be onto something now. “Just breaking the Detective Prince persona on TV sometimes. Slowly, as to not shock them, and then before you know it, it’s going to be the image you want, not the one imposed to you.” 

“There are many consequences to this,” Goro says, an anxious edge to his voice. “My reputation…” 

“Sure, maybe if you say fuck you really will get the general public mad at you.” Goro can’t help the chuckle at that, like he’s a twelve-year-old hearing a swear word for the first time. “And if it turns out as time passes that showbiz just isn’t your thing, then you can always retire. Live quietly as Goro Akechi, studying whatever you want, whenever. Maybe don’t study for a test next time, shatter your perfect record.” 

“That… is a truly horrifying concept.” 

“Nerd.” 

“Say I do retire from showbiz,” Goro sounds like even entertaining the thought is too far-fetched. Like it’s a simple dream, and not a reality he could achieve. “Where else would I go? Who else do I even have to fall back on?” 

“Me,” Ren says, easy. “I have an attic.” 

Once again, he breaks into laughter. It’s such a pleasant laugh, Ren wishes he could make it last longer. “You really mean that, don’t you? There’s not a single trace of dishonesty in your voice.” 

“I always mean what I say.” 

“To live as freely as you… what a concept,” he turns to stare at Ren properly. “Thank you. I’m… not sure I’ll take your advice immediately, but, it’s good to know someone cares.” 

“Of course.” 

“About you, though… I don’t think your image is out of your hands.” Goro rubs his chin carefully, like Ren’s life is a mystery at his show and he’s gathering the puzzle pieces of it. “You could, for starters, start practicing saying ‘no’ to people. I assure you, if anyone changes their mind about you based on you putting yourself first… then I’d say that’s not a true friend to have around, wouldn’t you agree? I suppose it’d be easy to see who the real friends you have are, and who are the ones simply using you for what you can offer to them. Really, whatever rumors that you have dragged from other cities, it’s not a reason for you to selflessly give and give until people can’t take anything else from you.” 

Ren mulls over his words, each one of them sinking and sinking deeper inside his brain. It’s weird, talking about this with Goro, because at times it felt like he was the one person who didn’t take much away from Ren. It was like he contributed to him, rather than the opposite. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Goro looks around. “I believe we should clean up this mess.” 

“Oh, definitely. Boss will kill me if I don’t.” 

“And we wouldn’t want that to happen. I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but for the sake of keeping an image…” 

Ren hits him lightly with the pipe before breaking into another fit of laughter. 

It’s somehow natural to slip his hand in Goro’s after they’re done cleaning, walking back to the café like this was the most normal thing in the world. 

[Ryuji]: yo 

[Ryuji]: want to meet up later to have some donuts? heard they were on sale  

Ren takes a deep breath. Please don’t be mad… 

[Ren]: no, sorry, I promised goro i’d pass by the tv station. Next time? 

[Ryuji]: oh yeah man! its cool! have fun at the station ;) 

That was it? 

Saying no to people could be easy? And Ryuji wasn’t even mad, he was wishing he had fun still? Ren blinks at his phone again, before getting into the subway, and then taking it out one more time just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Maybe Ren really was a little up his ass sometimes. The guilt that his friends wouldn’t understand him weighs on his shoulders, but he tries to swallow it down. There was progress at least—saying no to things instead of trying to part himself in fifty pieces to make sure everyone was happy was a good step one. Figuring out how to deal with guilt could be the second one. 

In other news, Goro had invited him to go out and have lunch together after his midday interview was over. Of course, how could Ren pass up such an amazing opportunity? Ever since the plate incident, there had been a lot more of moment like those between them—not plate smashing, just… holding hands. At the counter. A squeeze before he left LeBlanc. On-set visits that ended with them holding hands. It’s like that’s all they know how to do, before one of them breaks and actually addresses what’s going on. 

By all means, it should be Goro. Ren has never hidden the fact he’s got a crush on him, it’s his turn. 

He’s slightly late to the interview, probably mid-through it, but he keeps dodging and walking past people until he gets his saved seat: right on the front row, with a perfect view to Goro Akechi in all his Detective Prince glory. He looks so proper, with the fakest smile plastered on his face, and the nicest posture he could muster: it’s like seeing a completely different person. It’s good to know how he looks like off-stage, and even now, as he slowly introduces Goro to all his friends—it’s good to know he knows how to let go with them, too. 

He hasn’t been listening to the answers to the questions, honestly, if only because they’re so rehearsed he basically knows what Goro is going to say right as the questions end. He has watched most of his interviews, he knows how the drill goes. Finally, one of the last questions goes like, “Akechi-kun, you’re so beloved by girls all around Japan. You’ve truly stolen their hearts! Has anyone stolen yours?” 

This is interesting now. There’s a brief second where Goro looks at the audience, finds him, and smiles. Oh, wow, this better go the direction Ren wants it to go—if Goro is going to pull a big dramatic love confession on national television, then Ren will gladly play his part as the secret lover of Japan’s sweetheart. 

“Yes, in fact,” Goro smiles, and it’s not all that plastic. “I actually have a date with this person in question. I’m running slightly late, so, it would be lovely if we could wrap this up! It’s been an honor and a pleasure to chat with you—” 

Is he wrapping up the show by himself? Expected of Goro Akechi. Ren stares in awe at how quickly everyone drops in to start gossiping and whispering among each other, how they start their heartbreaking sighs, and of course, people who are already speculating who could it be that got away with Goro Akechi’s heart. 

He watches Goro slip to the back of the studio, and using the commotion caused by him, Ren manages to follow him all the way to his changing room, where he’s immediately greeted by Goro as soon as he closes the door. 

“Well, that sure will get them talking,” Goro says. “Stepping out of my ideal image has never been so chaotic.” 

Ren wishes he could say something coherent. Maybe a snide remark about causing a scandal, a smug comment about him stealing his heart, anything. Instead, all he’s able to do is to walk towards him, cup his face, and kiss him. 

He had no idea how long he had been yearning for this moment until it happened. All at once, Goro puts his arms around him, not wasting any second to kiss him back. It’s too messy to properly be a kiss, so Ren breaks off, and he still hasn’t come up with any type of smug remarks. 

“I have wanted to do that for a while now, believe me,” Goro says, and now he’s the one with the good remarks? “You are really impressive, trying to make out with me in my changing room.” 

“It’s not making out if we’re still talking.” 

“We do have lunch to catch,” Goro continues talking, like Ren isn’t literally on his arms waiting to be kissed again. “We can’t afford to be late to that. Reservations are hard to make, and—” 

“Goro,” Ren says. “Just shut up.” 

He looks confused and amused at the same time, but luckily, Ren leans in and joins their lips together, so everything is okay again. They can catch the lunch later, shatter Goro’s punctual image slightly more and all. 

It’s slightly late when they come back to LeBlanc, walking hand-in-hand, a little too giggly and high on the new relationship thrill. Ren lingers at the door, tugging Goro with him, and asking, “Can’t you just stay the night? It’s Sunday tomorrow.” 

“Will Boss mind?” 

“He likes you, you’ll be fine,” Ren answers, not that truthfully. He has no idea what’s the policy he should be following with Sojiro and boyfriends in his attic. “I’ll make you that curry I promised if you stay.” 

“A very tentative offer. You do owe me that.” 

“Yep. And I cannot let you go without fulfilling my promise.” Ren opens the door to LeBlanc. “I’m a man of my word, after all.” 

“Well… I don’t see why not.” 

Ren kisses him like it’s a reward, and by the smile on Goro’s face after he pulls away, maybe it was. 

“Have you been following your word, by the way?” Goro says as he takes out his coat. “Putting yourself first and all. I’ve broken my image, you should be making progress as well.” 

“Yes, actually.” Ren remembers the text messages from earlier, and smiles knowing that his friends still talked to him despite his worries. “I think we’re on a good path from here on.” 

Goro’s smile directed at him is honest and warm—loving. Ren’s breath catches on his throat. “Yes, I agree. I think we are, too.”