Work Text:
And now, onto the “Hottest Meet-and-Greet” segment of our show:
After his last appearance was so well-received, we decided to bring back this fine gentleman today.
It’s the high school detective, Goro Akechi!
Akechi groaned lowly and rolled his eyes, turning off the television and throwing the remote down on the couch. He didn’t want to hear all those fake applause. Not again. It was bad enough he had to sit in front of an audience of people who clearly didn’t care he was there, but to relive it every time the station decided to rerun it for views? That counted as cruel and usual punishment, he was sure of it.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he hated listening to not only that interview, but literally any of his interviews at all…
If it was him being interviewed, Akechi didn’t want to hear it.
It was always he this and gentleman that! If he had to listen to someone call him Akechi-kun one more time, he was going to go insane.
In short, Akechi hated listening to his interviews.
The worst part was, he didn’t even know why it irritated him so much to hear the word ‘he’ and be called a gentleman and be addressed as Akechi-kun. That was what he was, wasn’t it? A male; a male who presented himself as a gentleman on television for a lot of people to see; for Shido to see.
What else would people say if not Akechi-kun?
An intern in hair and makeup at the TV station had called him Akechi-san once… and, really, in all seriousness, he knew it didn’t mean anything. San was a common honorific that was used a lot, with everyone. It wasn’t some special title.
Yet, he found himself liking it, for some reason. He found himself excited to interact with that intern, just because they didn’t call him Akechi-kun, even after being corrected by their superior.
He had to step in, of course; he had to say he didn’t mind it, and it was alright… and thankfully, he didn’t have to say he didn’t want it to stop.
It just didn’t.
What was he supposed to do about his stupid, gendered pronouns; about being called a gentleman, though?
After all, Shido watched his interviews.
So…
Apparently nothing…
Nothing is what he was supposed to do about he pronouns; nothing is what he was going to do about being called a gentleman.
Besides…
Even if he did somehow manage to convince everyone around him to stop saying all forms of gendered terms when addressing him, what the hell was he supposed to tell them to say instead?
Even if he wanted to look up an answer online, what would he look up? Where would he go so he could keyboard smash his thoughts and feelings until he received a result?
Hell… Why was this even something he was worried about in the first place?
Akechi was supposed to be focusing on the plan. He had a plan to betray the leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts; a plan to ambush him in Sae Niijima’s palace and have him taken into custody, where he would do what needed to be done and—
Akira.
Would he know what to say? Would he know what to do? If he word vomited at him, would he take the most important parts of what he said and be able to draw a conclusion from them?
Past experiences and past conversations seemed to indicate he would, but…
… what if all he did was laugh?
What if all he did was tell him he was an idiot for feeling this way? Any sane, normal, and rational person would. They’d tell him to stop worrying about such petty ideas and instead busy his mind with things that actually mattered, because if he had the time to think about this, he had time to think about things that mattered.
… but why didn’t this actually matter?
Maybe if he could figure this out, he’d… He could be happier, a little. Not so disgruntled by the world; not so…
Well, anyway.
That was never going to happen.
With a groan, Akechi sat down and laid back on his sofa, putting an arm over his eyes. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths in, and then one long, deeper breath out. He repeated that a couple more times until—
His phone went off, indicating an incoming text message.
Akechi didn’t answer it right away. He was too busy focusing on his breathing exercises.
Then after a second, third, and finally fourth reminder from his phone later, he wasn’t focused on his breathing anymore. His phone was making an irritating noise and it wasn’t going to stop until he saw who wanted his—
[Kurusu Akira] Want to get dinner together at the café in Kichijōji?
Akechi scowled at the phone, but he had no idea why he was scowling at it. Akira had done nothing wrong except text him, asking about dinner. The question was innocent enough, so why did it make him so mad?
[Akechi Goro] Why?
[Kurusu Akira] My treat.
[Akechi Goro] I thought you were better than that form of bribery.
[Kurusu Akira] Do you want to go or not, Akechi?
[Akechi Goro] Better.
[Akechi Goro] I have a question for you, Kurusu.
[Kurusu Akira] Okay. Shoot.
[Akechi Goro] If someone finds disdain in being referred to with gendered pronouns, what would it mean for that person?
[Kurusu Akira] That… Is an oddly specific question. Why?
[Akechi Goro] Work.
[Akechi Goro] Answer the question.
There was a frustratingly long pause between Akechi’s last text message and Akira’s next one. It was almost starting to feel like he’d completely blown him off, until he received a novel of a response.
[Kurusu Akira] I’m not an expert at this, so bear with me, but…
Generally speaking, I think, if someone were to find disdain in being referred to with gendered pronouns, that person would have to decide if they want to keep using them or use something new. For example, if someone who’s assigned male at birth discovers that he doesn’t like being referred to as a male or with he/him pronouns, then he would need to decide his personal relationship with his gender. Is he actually female? Is he male but on an intensity scale? Is he nothing at all? That kind of thing. Then, he’d decide what kind of pronouns he’d used instead. She/her or they/them is a common alternative to he/him, but there’s a lot of neo-pronouns, which is also valid.
It took Akechi nearly twenty minutes to mentally sort through that wall or text, but he eventually felt like he understood.
Kind of…
They/them pronouns?
As in:
After their last appearance was so well-received, we decided to bring back this fine person today.
That? That kind of thing? Instead of the vile he was forced to listen to every time the station replayed his damned interview?
Why did he— they? like that so much? Why did it feel so right? Even if no one else said it but them, it could… It could be something they could… have for themself; something that could make them feel a bit better.
Sure, there was the obvious, glaring question of gender identity, but that could wait. They didn’t care about that as much. Not now. Not when… Not when it felt so nice to have this.
They.
Oh, look, it’s Akechi-san! There they are!
Damn it, Akira.
Akechi was just using the back of their hand to aggressively wipe at their eyes when they got another text.
[Kurusu Akira] Did that help, Akechi?
It took Akechi another moment to respond, as they were trying to regain composure a little bit. Not that Akira could possibly know they were crying, but they didn’t want to take any chances.
Akira was extremely intelligent, after all.
[Akechi Goro] Ah. Yes. Thank you for your input, Kurusu.
[Akechi Goro] Back to your original offer... Dinner with you this evening sounds delightful. Meet me at the café 8PM sharp?
[Kurusu Akira] Perfect. It’s a date.
A date.
Akira was such an idiot.
Shoving their phone back in their pocket, they got up and went down the hallway to their bedroom.
Akechi spent so much longer than they would ever admit looking for an outfit to wear; looking for shoes to go with it; figuring out a way to style their hair.
It was probably too much.
As it turned out, though, Akira had done the same thing.
Idiot.