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The lighting in the sea turtle exhibit was atrocious. Goro didn’t want to see a ghost of his reflection bouncing off the glass surrounding him, reminding him of his gloomy face, the very same gloomy face that he awoke to this morning in the mirror.
The sea turtle swam around the tank elegantly, cutting through the water effortlessly as though it were a bird flying around in air. In a way, that’s what it looked like: a bird, flying happy and free in the sky. Though Goro knew better than to liken the tank, despite being seemingly expansively blue, to the sky.
Today was the day his entire fourth year class got to go to the aquarium. Though everyone was assigned a partner to always accompany each other, Goro’s partner left to join another group as soon as they turned the corner away from the adults. It bothered him, of course, but he didn’t come to these types of places often, so he decided not to let it ruin his day completely.
He enjoyed watching the turtle soar around idly, using its wrinkly flippers like two pairs of wings. With there being only one turtle in the tank, Goro wondered if it was lonely, or maybe if he was separated from the other turtles somehow. He decided that the turtle wasn’t bothered by it, taking into mind how much fun it seemed like it was having all by itself. He learned that the sea turtle has to grow up independently from a documentary his class had to watch the other day, having to fight for its existence right after its birth.
Goro only realized he missed the meet-up time when he heard his name being called over the intercom. As he was pulled to the side by his teacher and scolded for disregarding rules, his classmates leaned in to each other to point and whisper. He sat alone on the bus ride back. It didn’t matter though, because he’d rather use this time to be left alone to his thoughts before he has to go back home.
Goro instantly concocts three options in his head when his co-worker thrusts two tickets to the aquarium in his face. He could (a) accept, but throw the tickets in the garbage the moment he’s out of sight; (b) deny him outright, saying he has no time either and to give them to someone who could make good use of them; or (c) accept them and actually take another person to look at some fish in an oversized tank.
“I was going to go with my wife, but the director put me on this case last minute. It’s a popular date spot these days and let’s be honest… you look like you need some fun, Akechi-kun,” he jokes with a boisterous laugh that makes Goro’s skin crawl. “You ought to take someone special. You’ll both have a good time, I promise.”
Option A, at this point, is looking to be the most promising.
“If that’s truly the case, I’d hate for these tickets to go to waste. I think I might just take you up on your kind offer. Thank you.”
He scans the office for the nearest trash can as soon as his associate forcibly places the tickets in his hand. It’s an office, so there should be one right next to the desk they’re standing by.
“You won’t regret it. Try not to have too much fun.” He laughs again, like everything he says is a big joke. The dim lighting is starting to make Goro’s head swim. It’s a shame there aren’t any windows in this office.
“Oh, I assure you I won’t. Thanks again,” Goro says, raising a hand up in farewell, effectively ending the conversation.
Someone special. Frustratingly unkempt hair and fake glasses immediately comes to mind. He pushes the image back to whatever depths of his mind it came from. He finds a plastic gray trash can with unidentifiable stains clinging to the edges of the lid in the hallway as hazily lit as the office. But as his fist pokes through the lid he can’t unclench his fist and let go of the tickets.
He shoves them into his pocket. He’ll text Ren tonight. They’re fairly close, after all. He’s sure he’ll say yes.
If he doesn’t, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He’ll just catch him again some other time, or the next, or the next.
It will be fun, if he’s there.
Goro texts Ren that night, exhausted and drained at his sink, phone in one hand, toothbrush in the other. It’s a miracle his phone doesn’t plop right into the sink basin when Goro receives a reply from the other almost immediately. It’s like he barely even hesitated.
He thinks of how earnestly Ren seems to enjoy his presence, how the other will lean in subconsciously when he’s really paying attention to whatever idle chatter Goro says. It only spurs him on to say more, reveal more until he nearly regrets it. But if there’s anything Goro’s learned from his years of experience with Tokyo’s “elite,” it’s that honesty doesn’t pay; anyone who believes otherwise is a fool. In the end, their goals can’t ever align. One of them will come out on top, and Goro will have to make sure it’s him.
He spits into the sink. He catches a glimpse of his own contorted face in the mirror, and he looks so much older. He really shouldn’t let his thoughts wander like that. As his back collides with his bed, he pulls his phone out to research the place for directions.
He ends up memorizing random facts for most of the species of fish the aquarium website lists out until he notices it’s one in the morning. He falls asleep eventually, drowning out the ambience of the city with thoughts about zebra sharks and manta rays and seahorses.
Goro has no real way of comprehending just how deep the ocean is. Maybe, he reasons, it’s as deep as Mementos, sprawling endlessly and changing with the tides and currents. It’s a wonder to him how much life can thrive living in the darkness for so long, whether it be a carnivorous fish with sharp teeth living under the pressure of thousands of feet of water or a shadow aimlessly scuttling along the tracks of the subway.
The tank they’re staring into is smaller than he expected. On top of that, there are so many different fish in the tank he’s not sure which one is which. So he can’t open with a confidently recited fact, but he has to say something, because Ren sure as hell won’t.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been to a place like this,” Goro says, flashing a polite smile Ren’s way. Just saying that, he almost wants to tell him how he was publicly scolded for missing the meet-up time on a field trip, but he holds his tongue, because he inadvertently told him too much about his past the last time they met up in the bathhouse. It’s easy to talk about unpleasant memories around him and he’s not sure why. “Sorry for dragging you along.”
“It’s a nice place,” Ren says, swaying slightly, without taking his eyes off of him. The blue light surrounding them bounces off his glasses, obscuring his eyes. It’s a little bothersome.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, hand instinctively bobbing up to his mouth to cover his smile, a gesture he’s perfected to give him the appearance of modesty and cheer. “This suits you, huh? I wasn’t sure if you were the type.”
A couple walks by, hanging onto each other and staring into the tank opposite of them. The fish. Swimming around in the tank. They should be wandering around looking at all of them. Ren looks as if he’s about to say something when a woman’s voice calls out to him.
She’s an odd one to be carrying a camera around her neck that bulky and wearing clothes that tacky. Layered sleeves and jeans in this summer heat? Probably a tourist. But she knows Ren, so she can’t just be someone so unassuming. He learns, as she talks about her work and her relationship with Ren, that she is a reporter with a vaguely familiar name. He will have to ask Ren about this relationship afterwards, though he doubts he’ll receive a straight-forward answer.
Goro watches the reporter walk off, feeling satisfaction at having learned something about Ren and his numerous and suspicious bonds blooming in his chest. Even more (oddly) satisfying is the way Ren assures him it’s nothing to worry about, rubbing his neck bashfully. Interesting. The word slips out of his mouth yet again as it always does when he’s around him.
“Thanks for coming out with me. We should get going,” Goro says, even though they’ve only just entered the aquarium not even fifteen minutes ago. He’s getting sweaty from all of the humidity, despite the air conditioning. And now he has a reporter to look into now, anyway.
“You’re leaving already?” Ren questions, sticking his thumbs in his pockets. He almost looks like he’s sulking.
“What, you want to stay?” Goro asks, taken aback by Ren’s outburst.
“We just got here.” Ren turns his head to look at the fish swimming in the tank. “It would be a waste to leave now.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Goro says with a tentative lilt to his voice, moving closer to the tank. The weight of his attache case in his hand reminds him he has important things he should be doing. He ignores it, justifying his decision by reasoning he’s escaping the cruel heat for just a little longer.
“Come on. Let’s go somewhere else,” Ren urges, already wandering off aimlessly.
The tank a few rows over is filled with vibrantly tropical colored fish and coral, easily recognizable. Seahorses and starfish and clownfish all coexist in one tank, giving it the appearance of a snapshot from a textbook. Goro approaches the tank alongside Ren, who is practically pressing his nose against the glass. A couple beside them point at the seahorses clumsily swimming around and whisper to each other excitedly. Goro watches Ren stare in their direction, unable to tell if he’s looking at the seahorses or the couple.
“Seahorses… They’re rather unique for their mating habits. Did you know they mate for life?”
“How romantic,” Ren says, filling in the space in front of the herd of seahorses the couple just left. Ren smiles serenely, watching them float around, undisturbed by anything else in the tank. Goro moves closer to take a better look at them.
“They have such a strange shape,” Goro mutters, craning his neck to look closer at the way their bottom end curls up into a swirl, the way the neck looks like a mane and the jutting mouth a snout.
“What do you think it’d feel like if you touched one?” Ren whispers conspiratorially, as if he’s going to somehow dip his hand in and stroke one.
“Bony,” Goro answers reflexively under his breath. He clears his throat, unsettled by how unfamiliar his voice sounds. “I think that it’d feel like touching something bony and rough.”
“Really? I feel like you wouldn’t feel much of anything. After all, it’s underwater,” Ren chatters on with an irritating smirk. Goro has to concentrate harder on controlling his face muscles to not let his irritation show.
“Is that so?” Goro says, smiling, but Ren only looks at him knowingly. He hates that he can see through him so easily. He hates him.
They allow themselves to be swept in by the flow of people slowly strolling about the exhibition hall, glancing at all of the different fish on display. Not everyone is a couple here, though it really feels that way, with how many people are pressing closely to each other, holding hands. A terrible thought crosses his mind for just a second, that he’ll be recognized and they’ll think he’s dating Ren. Don’t make him laugh. That would be terrible, not to mention unlikely. Goro switches his attache case over to his right hand, creating a barrier between him and Ren, walking too closely right next to him.
The twisting halls of tanks eventually lead him to a murky tank filled with catfish. The small section on freshwater fish is relatively abandoned, especially compared to the attention the manta ray tank is receiving alone. He stops right in front of it and stares straight into it though he struggles to see anything besides murky water. Ren says nothing the whole time, a respectable distance away now that the area is far less crowded. The lighting here is dimmer, allowing Goro to see more of his eyes. But he didn’t even need to see them in the first place. Even if his eyelashes are the longest he’s ever seen.
“It looks like there’s nothing in here at the moment,” Goro says. “Let’s move somewhere else. Is there anything you wanted to see?”
“No, I can see it. Look, it’s right there,” Ren says, pointing to a blob of brown in the right-hand corner. Goro shifts closer to get a better vantage point. How was he able to see that? Even from where he’s standing, the catfish still only looks like a camouflaged blob.
“Oh, now I see. You’re as impressive as ever,” Goro says, unaware he’s smiling differently than he’s practiced. “Though you wear those fake glasses, it seems as though your eyesight is actually flawless. Nothing flies past you.”
“Flatterer,” Ren says with a crooked smile, rubbing his neck. It seems Goro’s praise has gotten through to him. As expected, this outing is full of surprises, because Ren always finds ways to surprise him.
Spewing empty words of praise is a habit so thoroughly ingrained into Goro’s core he can’t help it. He feels nothing whenever he tells that cursed man his new tailored suit looks great on him or his foresight is unparalleled. But with Ren, he notices how much he’s surpassed his expectations, and for some reason the words leave a strange aftertaste in his mouth, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He’s sure it’s jealousy and hatred.
The tank is too murky for Goro to see anything else. He ends up watching Ren’s reflection in the glass as he takes a moment to graze his eyes through the tank, no doubt spotting plankton or something equally miniscule floating around. He really doesn’t know why he wears those fake glasses. He would look so striking, so charismatic without them on. And if he fixed that slight slouch and the casualness in his posture, Ren would be a worthy rival to the detective prince.
He thinks back to the time he called Ren after he had ruffled his hair up, telling him that they’re not so different in height, so they could easily swap clothes. The thought of running a comb through that unruly hair, of applying skin products to his face, did briefly cross his mind back then. And sometimes again. The thought of touching someone so gently makes his chest feel heavy and unfamiliar, so he always pushes those indulgent, useless thoughts back to whatever oblivion of unconsciousness they came from.
He realizes Ren’s reflection is turned slightly towards him, and then realizes Ren is looking straight at him with his usual unreadable expression. “Oh, sorry. Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“Do you want to go, Akechi?” Ren asks, candid as ever.
“Did I give off that impression?” Goro replies innocuously, controlling his voice so he doesn’t sound too snappy. “I’m fine staying a little longer, as long as you are.”
Ren only nods in reply, leaning away from the murky green tank as if beckoning Goro to follow him. The confident way he walks makes it seem like he knows exactly where he’s going, but Goro knows he’s never been to this place before. Along the way, the crowd multiplies and multiplies, and Goro has to strengthen his grip on his attache case for fear of bumping into someone and dropping it. Wherever they’re going must be popular. As they’re walking down the rows of tanks, the lighting grows dimmer and poorer, and Goro is forced to walk slowly, right behind Ren.
“Where is this?” Goro asks, leaning forwards some so his voice will reach the other in this thick, impenetrable chatter.
“The dolphin exhibit,” Ren replies, turning his head only slightly towards Goro in acknowledgement. His soft, paradoxical voice almost drowns under the excited chatter gathering around the large, long wall of glass separating them from tons and tons of water.
“It seems to be extremely popular,” Goro says, nearly bumping his chin into Ren’s shoulder. “That’s to be expected, though. Dolphins are charismatic animals.”
They approach the tank at a distance, straying behind the wall of people crammed together shoulder to shoulder. From where he’s standing, Goro can see nothing but an endless expanse of blue, and for a moment he pictures the glass cracking and flooding the hall. It’s hard to stand a good distance away from Ren like this. He’s more than aware that their shoulders are only a few centimeters apart.
A couple moves away from the tank, and Ren lightly taps Goro’s wrist as he moves to fill in the spot. Goro follows after him, and now their shoulders are flush to each other. His shoulders are solid and kind of bony. Goro tries to focus on scanning his eyes across the tank so he can see the damn dolphins and leave. Towards the very top of the tank, he spots a dolphin surfacing the water and then splashing water everywhere as it dives further down. The crowd gasps and coos at seeing the dolphin do something so simple. How these people are so easily entertained, he’ll never understand.
“That was impressive,” Goro starts politely, to fill the air between them. “Did you see that?”
“Oh, I didn’t see,” Ren says, tilting his head to look at Goro. “I was just thinking about how big the tank is.”
Goro feels his shoulders twitch slightly at that in surprise, something that undoubtedly doesn’t go unnoticed by Ren because their shoulders are touching. “Interestingly, I was thinking about just the same thing earlier. How many tons of water are in here, I wonder.” Goro taps on the glass lightly, producing a quiet, dull sound. “And the only thing separating us from all that water is this glass.”
Ren nods and turns back to look at the tank. Goro feels exceptionally aware of the light but firm press of Ren’s shoulder against his the entire time. They stare into the tank for another minute or two until they slide away and leave the area. Goro waits until they’re out of the dimness to speak up.
“Well, I think I should be leaving now. I have casework I haven’t even started on yet… but I don’t regret it, because I got to spend some time with you. Thanks for accompanying me.”
“It’s a shame you have to leave so soon. I’d invite you to come over to Leblanc to make you some coffee right now, but I don’t want to keep you,” Ren says, apparently intent on monopolizing his entire day.
The idea of Leblanc’s coffee does tempt him, just a bit, Goro is willing to admit that much. But he really has things he has to do, even if those things are staring at paperwork and dreading a phone call or text from a certain bald headed man. He’s been able to push those thoughts away for the duration of the outing, as he usually can when he’s around Ren, but as soon as he’s out of this aquarium it’s back to nagging from work associates.
Ren walks with Goro all the way to the subway station. With how much he catches Ren’s gaze lingering on him as they navigate the crowds, he’d think Ren has some sort of unfinished business with him he wants to settle. The summer heat is unbearable and his shirt is starting to stick to his skin unflatteringly. To make matters worse, their hands occasionally brush against each other, showing Ren just how embarrassingly sweaty his palms have become. The thought of coffee becomes more and more unappealing as he stands in this heat.
Goro waves politely at Ren as he turns to leave on the train. Right as Goro turns on his heel, Ren reaches out and clasps a hand on his shoulder. His face is unreadable, but perhaps the glint in his eyes could be conviction.
“Ren?” Goro says, and though it’s not the first time he’s called him by that name, it’s still an unfamiliar weight on his tongue. He tries not to frown too deeply, hoping his face remains soft and unoffensive.
“You should think about coming to Leblanc sometime tonight,” Ren says, in that commanding and soft voice. His hand lingers slightly above Goro’s shoulder which is obviously a friendly gesture that friends do to each other when they’re friends. Which they are. Friends. Friends?
“If the opportunity arises,” Goro says, trying to contain his expression from betraying the warm cocktail of emotions currently stirring through his body. Goro manages to wave lightly at him as he turns to leave, unpracticed and clumsy. “I’ll see you again sometime, Ren.”
Ren nods and waves back, a small smile on his face. The lighting obscures his eyes behind those fake glasses just a bit, making him blend right into the crowd effortlessly. When Goro looks back again, Ren is nowhere to be seen. As soon as Goro boards the subway, two high-school students surround him and ask him questions, and he wishes for Ren’s ability to dissolve into the crowd for only a fraction of a second.
That night, after coming back from the aquarium, Goro managed to be the first to use the bulky computer tucked away in the corner of the media room to look up sea turtles as part of the worksheet his class was given. The wards allowed children to take turns using the computer as long as it was for school work and education, unlike the last ones who would always slap him on his right hand whenever he was caught using the computer. Back then, it turns out, it was used for workers only.
Goro liked using the computer because he could instantly find countless answers to the questions no one around him wanted or knew how to answer. And sometimes, no one was looking, he would play simple games like chess and connect-four, careful to switch to what he was supposed to be doing whenever someone, whether it be a kid or an adult, came too close to him. The other children were not above tattling.
As he looked through pictures of sea turtles, he couldn’t help but stew about the bad parts of his day, playing them back in his head endlessly. He pretended not to listen in on anyone on the bus, but he always keeps his ears open just in case. He heard a couple boys whisper about how gloomy he looked, spewing words of mocking pity. It was nothing new, of course. Empty, derisive words of pity are all he seemed to get from both adults and peers.
Someday, he’ll become someone worthy of praise. That way no one will have to look at him that way ever again. That way someone will want him around.
If he focused and tried hard on this worksheet, he’ll get a good grade and he’ll make a good impression on his new teacher. So Goro turned his attention back to researching all of the fish he saw at the aquarium today. And if he keeps up the good work, he’ll certainly become that person worthy of praise he wants to become.
The shrill ring of the ringtone Goro picked out for Shido derails his train of thought and brings him back to the reality of his tiny cubicle at the police station. He’s bound by contract to be here at least twenty hours per week, and most of those are actually spent at this tiny desk the precinct has so courteously gifted him with. It’s 8:24, according to his phone. Shido dislikes it when he answers in public, and would much prefer him to answer when he secured a private area, but Shido calls are impossible to predict and are never planned ahead of time. The whole operation is honestly more of a clown show than it is a political conspiracy.
Goro exits the office to the hallway, lazily checking for passerby as he leans cooly against the wall. “Hello?”
“I need you to come to my office tomorrow. I trust that nine in the evening will work for you,” Shido’s grating voice, distorted by the speaker, commands.
“Of course it will. I will not break your expectations.”
“Good. We have some work to do regarding the Medjed site and I need your intel on media reception. Come prepared.”
“I will see you tomorrow at nine, then,” Goro says, with a polite and perfect smile even though Shido couldn’t possibly see it. Hopefully the cheer will reflect through his voice and Shido will be able to tell how ecstatic he is for this meeting.
Shido hangs up without another word, as usual. Goro allows himself to sigh deeply and press a hand against his forehead. On top of all of the paperwork he has to do tonight that he neglected doing while hanging out with Ren, he has to adequately prepare materials for tomorrow’s meeting with one of the baldest heads in the world. He tries not to look too overjoyed as he settles back to his desk, scattered with sheets of paper covered in compact, tiny ink. He wasn’t getting much of anything done on his paperwork anyway, having to look up that journalist he met today, which was basically another fruitless endeavor.
Tonight will be a long one. Not that it’s anything new.
Goro wants to hit his head on the wall a couple times, but that would be too needlessly dramatic for a stress reliever. Instead, he glances at the clock and wonders if there are any good coffee shops still open or not so close to closing at this time of night. His mind keeps circling back to a certain coffee shop he knows of in Yongen-Jaya. Probably because of Ren’s offer to make him some coffee, which has him slightly curious. But Leblanc closes at nine, sometimes even earlier, and he doesn’t want to stay there past closing alone with Ren, who would probably be so glad to see him take him up on his offer, with glittering eyes and a soft, small smile.
He finds himself on the subway to Yongen-Jaya before he knows it.
The heat hasn’t lessened any as the sun slowly dips below the horizon; if anything, it’s gotten muggier. But ultimately coffee is coffee no matter the weather and its benefits are especially needed now, even if it’s more satisfying when it warms your cold body up. Even if he feels a disgusting layer of sweat caking on his skin under his sleeves, crammed into a subway car made a thousand degrees hotter from the sheer amount of people packed in.
Yongen-Jaya’s air is hardly better than the air inside the subway. Goro tries his best not to frown too deeply, but this kind of heat would make even the holiest monk grumpy. He can only hope that no one corners him and asks to take pictures, but somehow he feels protected by these backstreets, as if no one will recognize him here. The deteriorating concrete and raggedy awnings of the second-hand shops and bars make him think of when he lived with his mother in a similar neighborhood.
Goro tightens his grip on his attache case unconsciously. He’s not sure what it is about Yongen-Jaya, about the aquarium, about Ren, that makes him so needlessly sentimental. He thought he threw away the need for trivial sentimentality long ago. But as he stares down at the cracking concrete beneath his feet, he can’t help but recall, fuzzy and vague as it may be, walking down the street, hand-in-hand with his mother.
Goro can tell Leblanc is closed as soon as he turns the corner. The windows are dark and he can barely make out the lettering on the sign. According to his phone, it’s only a couple minutes until nine. The subway ride took longer than he thought. Goro considers turning on his heel and pretending he never set foot here, but for some reason a stronger force compels him to approach the door to Leblanc, even though he knows it’s closed.
Goro hesitates at the door, thinking of his options. He could knock, or text Ren, or he could just leave. All possibilities fill him with a strange amount of shame. He stands there, glancing up to look at all of the small bugs gathering by the lights, for a liminal, embarrassing amount of time. He grips his phone with more force than necessary, tightening his grip every time he thinks about texting Ren to ask him to come down and serve coffee. He might not even be home at this hour, for all he knows. He could be out on the town doing whatever a falsely accused delinquent does on a hot night in the middle of summer.
Just as he pivots a foot to leave, the door opens at a small angle, as if the opener were wary that the person behind the door was a dangerous person with the intent to kill. (Well.) Upon apparently determining that it wasn’t, they all but whip open the door with a fervent ringing of the bells.
“Akechi? What are you doing here?” Ren asks, eyebrows quirked in clear confusion. He’s not frowning, though.
“Hello, Ren, I just happened to be passing through the area and was thinking about taking you up on your offer from earlier, but I didn’t want to intrude…”
“I’m glad you came after all. Come in,” Ren beckons, gesturing to the stools at the bar.
Goro vaguely realizes how eager he must look as he makes a beeline for the barstools, moving faster than he has all day. He takes care to look especially nonchalant sitting down, clearing his throat and setting his attache case decidedly on the counter. “How did you know I was just right outside the door? I was considering texting you but I wasn’t entirely sure if you were home or not.”
“I went down to use the bathroom, and I saw a silhouette through the door. Not going to lie, you startled me a little.”
“Oh really? In that case I apologize for scaring you.” Goro leans on the counter and examines all of the cases of coffee beans sitting on the shelves as if they were on display. He’s no connoisseur of coffee as much as he may act like it, but he recognizes that the sheer variety itself must be impressive. “Thanks for making the decision to open the door, though. I’m feeling a little worn out and needed some coffee to get through the night.”
“Is the life of a detective that stressful?” Ren asks as he moves around behind the counter, grabbing some containers without much deliberation. As Goro watches him, he sometimes feels like he catches a small black blur lurking around in the corner of his eye.
“Well, I would say so, yes. But it’s rewarding in its own way,” Goro answers, giving him a stock, pre-written answer much like those from his interviews. “And having some of your coffee will surely be a reward on its own.”
“You think so highly of it already? You really are a flatterer.” Ren moves a free hand to hover over his head for a second, an aborted version of his hair fidgeting gesture. He grips the counter beside the pot of brewing coffee instead.
“It works, doesn’t it?” Goro chuckles jokingly, but the laugh dissolves as he sees Ren nod lightly, fixing his eyes down at the flame warming the pot. Goro forces himself to tear his eyes off of the other before he starts seeing things that aren’t really there, like the flush in his face or the fondness in his smile.
Goro pretends to thoroughly examine the tiny kitchen area behind the counter, looking at the assortment of magnets stuck to the fridge. He only realizes he’s bouncing his foot when he hears the creaking sound of the stool. How long does coffee take to brew? Goro looks everywhere, at the multi-color glass lamps hanging above the booths behind them, at the yellow dial-phone at the end of the counter, but never at Ren. It’s so much dimmer in here without light sneaking in through the front door.
He hears the sound of rushing liquid followed by a soft clunk and immediately feels steam flood his face. Goro thanks Ren quietly, then brings the cup up to his lips so quickly he’s afraid it could come off as desperate. It’s a little more bitter than Sakura makes, and he’s unsure if that’s because of the roast or the mark of an amateur. One gulp of it instantly makes him feel more awake.
“Wow,” Goro says, sitting up as the cup hits the counter with a clunk. “It’s bitter.”
Ren laughs, deep and joyous, and Goro can’t help but smile. “Well, you said that you weren’t really a fan of sweet things. So I took that into account when making it and chose the darkest roast I could find.”
Goro hums lightly, nonchalantly circling his index finger around the rim of the cup. He scans the counter for some packets of artificial sweetener, which of course Sakura doesn’t have. “So bitter I don’t think I can finish it…”
“You’ll manage,” Ren laughs as he moves around the counter and sits on the stool right next to him. “I mean, you’ll have to. Boss only lets me give the sweetener to paying customers.”
Goro scoffs lightly, redirecting his attention to the bitter coffee in front of him. He takes another sip, hesitantly and slowly, and Ren’s smile only grows as he watches him. The second sip isn’t as shocking; each sip after that, he’s able to swallow without much deliberation. At least it’s waking him up.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t pay for this.”
“Oh? Next time I’ll brew you something with so much cream and sugar in it it’ll be unrecognizable as coffee. It’ll just be milk.”
Goro tries to stifle his chuckle, because really, it’s not that funny, but it only makes the sound that bursts out hysteric and off-putting. Goro slaps a hand to his mouth immediately and stews in embarrassment. Ren’s immediate silence and unreadable expression only make Goro want to run out of Leblanc without another word, but then he laughs, filling him with relief. Ren’s laugh is almost as strange as his, the way it almost doesn’t match his quiet and calm demeanor. Goro focuses on finishing his coffee before he makes himself look like even more of a fool.
Ren says nothing more as Goro finishes the cup. Goro discretely follows where the other’s gaze drifts off to sometimes to catch a glimpse of something stirring in the shadows. It has to be that cat he’s always spotting him lug around in his bag. When he finishes, setting the cup down softly so it doesn’t make a sound, Ren’s staring towards the stairs with squinted eyes.
“Thank you for the coffee,” Goro says, and though normally now would be the perfect time to get up and leave, he can’t bring himself to move out of his seat. Ren’s head jerks back towards him, eyes wide as if he also expected Goro to be out the door by now. “It was tolerable in the end.”
“Want a refill?” Ren asks, dangling a foot off the stool a centimeter above the floor.
Goro hmms, considering it briefly, but ultimately denies the offer. A lightbulb flickers and surges from above. “I think I’d just like to sit here a little while longer.”
Ren nods and leans on the counter, skimming his eyes over all of the beans on display. Goro almost thinks he’s bored, but something about his expression feels serene and content. In a strange way, the artificial dimness of the lighting reminds him of the aquarium.
“Thanks again for coming with me to the aquarium today,” Goro says as he mimics Ren. “I really wasn’t sure if you’d come. But we had fun, didn’t we?”
“I liked it. You should invite me out more often.”
“We’ll see,” Goro says, tapping his foot against the barstool and thinking to the future.
Another lull in the conversation. “It really has been awhile since I’ve been to an aquarium. The last time was in elementary school.” Goro’s attention is directed to the metallic tapping sound he’s been making and makes himself still his leg. “It wasn’t nearly as fun.”
Ren’s eyes, so piercingly perceptive, silently urge him to go on. “I separated myself from my group and ended up missing the meet-up time. So it was nice to have someone to share the experience with.”
Those perceptive, honest eyes betray no trace of pity. “I’m glad you chose me to come along, then. Thanks for inviting me in the first place.”
“You were the only person I could think of,” Goro says with a soft chuckle, and he’s saying the words before he’s aware of them. As it sometimes happens when he’s around Ren.
Ren only smiles at him, knowingly, softly. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d take me up on my offer. So thanks for coming over, too.”
“Even though it’s after closing?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’d let you in even if it was two in the morning,” Ren says, irritatingly candidly and earnestly.
Goro hates how much that line affected him. Ren does this to everyone, that’s why he has so many friends. He’s feeling too sentimental, sappy, impulsive tonight. What is it? The lighting? It must be. It reminds him of what a home should be. It makes him long for closeness. Ren’s right next to him. He could just lean a little to the left and their shoulders would touch again, like they did at the aquarium.
His torso is twisting and leaning before he realizes it, slowly as if being pulled by the lazy current of a stream. He grips at the counter like it’s the coil to bring him back to shore with palms that are, he’s only realizing now, slick with sweat. He thinks Ren is enthusiastically meeting him half-way, and suddenly his face, expression partially obscured by the angle, floods his view.
As slowly and agonizingly as a body pushed down to the depths beneath the current rises back to the surface, Goro presses his lips against the corner of Ren’s mouth. His skin is soft and unfamiliar. He’s not sure what he was aiming for, but as he’s pulling away, just as slowly, Ren decides he’s missed the mark and kisses him. His lips are just as unfamiliar and his glasses clank against his nose. He’s never been kissed before. Does he hold his breath? Unsure, he does anyway, like a drowning man.
Ren pulls away, as red as one of the crabs they saw today. Goro can’t do anything but try to calm his betraying heart and breathe deeply. He opens his mouth and closes it twice, looking most likely like a fish. Ren is still so close, and he leans forward as if to kiss him again, but halts as if finally coming to his senses. He kisses him lightly, carefully, on the cheek instead, which only makes Goro feel more antsy and restless.
“I should go,” Goro manages to say, voice scratchy and unfamiliar. “I have work I really need to be doing.”
Ren presses an even lighter kiss, almost like an afterthought, to his opposite cheek and nods. The sheer gentleness of the gesture ignites some strange emotions tugging at his chest. None of this is making sense.
“Thanks for… having me,” he says in a small voice as he slides off the barstool, refusing to meet Ren’s gaze. “Next time… choose a different roast.”
Next time? What is he talking about? He must be the one not making any sense. Goro hastily approaches the door without looking back, cautious of what might happen if he does.
“Akechi,” Ren calls out from behind him, using his last name like it’s a bad habit he’s yet to break. Goro turns around to see him holding his attache case. Of course he’d do that.
Goro doesn’t allow his hands to linger as he takes his attache case back. He’s already made so many mistakes tonight, he doesn’t need one more. Ren smiles that familiar, fond smile again, and Goro wonders if he even realizes he’s smiling half the time. The door is right there behind him. All he has to do is turn around and turn the doorknob.
But honestly, what’s one more mistake lost in a sea of innumerable? One kiss goodnight, that’s all. He has done much, much worse. So with speed and dexterity that surprises even himself, he presses his lips solidly against Ren’s before speeding out the door.
Once he’s at the station, waiting for the last stops of the night to arrive, Goro glances at all of the notifications on his phone and groans quietly. Paperwork, reviewing files, preparing materials, burner numbers. Shido. He feels like he’s being sucked to the overwhelming pressures of the bottom of the ocean after sampling the warmth from the light of the surface.
He has to promise himself not to make this a habit. He’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.
“I saw that,” Morgana says, tail swishing agitatedly and ears folded to the side. “I wish I didn’t.”
Ren can’t do anything but lightly press his fingers to his lips, like a maiden whose heart was just stolen.
“What are you going to do now? I thought kissing was serious stuff.”
Ren turns around and pats Morgana on the head.
“None of your business.”