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It's the 21st of December, the first day of winter. Dark gray clouds hide the sun in Tokyo, covering everything with a strange gray light, announcing that a storm is ready to fall mercilessly over the capital city of Japan. The wind is not too strong, but it's cold enough to penetrate the skin and to chap pedestrian's lips; it's cold enough to reach people's bones and to make your whole body hurt. Those who are brave enough to spend the day outside walk quickly, trying to finish their tasks as soon as possible so they can return to their warm places to get away from the low temperatures that indicate the roughest season has arrived.
It’s midday and Leblanc is practically empty except for two people: Futaba Sakura, who is placed behind the counter and looks cautiously at her only customer; and Goro Akechi, who is sitting at a table and focusing his eyes on his phone, trying to ignore the sharp daggers the girl is throwing at him with her eyes. He should be used to it by now; after all, no one does what he did and gets away with it with little to none repercussions or without a few accusatory eyes riveted on them. He's grateful enough that he wasn't kicked out of the coffee shop the day he appeared out of the blue, walking through the main door as if nothing had happened and asking for Akira in a desperate attempt to talk to him. He's grateful that he listened to his story; from the moment he survived, to the long months he had to spend at rehab and to the moment he decided it was a good idea to visit Akira. He's grateful that Akira understood him and let him return to the group once formed by the Phantom Thieves. And even if he doesn’t show that gratitude a lot —he's not the best at expressing feelings that are not related to anger or sarcasm—, he's trying to change. Although, it's obvious there are some people who don't really want to have a close relationship with him. Another cold and painful glance from the orange haired girl is enough to confirm that to the Detective Prince.
He knows she doesn't want to be there —she'd be having a better time in her room surrounded by whatever devices she normally uses, walking through wires without tripping and, basically, feeling secure in a safe place where she wouldn't have to take care of a criminal who was the responsible for her mother's death—, but he's sure she had no choice. Actually, the reason why Goro is in Leblanc is because of Kurusu's insistence. Apparently, there was something the leader of the Phantom Thieves wanted to talk about. He didn't give a lot of clues and resorted to something he was the master of: to tease. In the end, the boy had to agree and a date, place and hour were set. It wasn’t like he had another choice, though. At least, if he wanted to stop receiving messages every 5 minutes. The surprise came when Goro walked into the coffee shop only to find Sakura there, and not Kurusu. Futaba simply looked at him, greeted him in the driest way possible and told him Akira would take a while to return. That has been the only conversation they have had during that long half an hour Goro has been waiting for the other boy to return.
The Detective Prince sighs and keeps looking at his messages with Akira, feeling a mix of disappointment and acceptance. Somewhere deep down he knew there was a possibility this was going to happen. He knew there was a small possibility consisting of him arriving at Leblanc and not finding Kurusu anywhere, and Goro’s mind likes to play tricks. There’s this little voice wondering if the reason for his delay is related to whether he’s going to continue or not in the group. He pushes it away for now and tries to silence his feelings: if that’s the case, there’s no way he’s going to complain. He understands why the rest of the Phantom Thieves wouldn't want him in the group anymore. It's okay.
A few minutes pass and Akechi wonders if it would be better to just leave and message Akira. Maybe whatever he wants to say it’s easier to be expressed through messages. But when he’s about to get up, the door opens. Goro doesn’t need a lot to recognize him. Akira is breathing quickly; it looks like he has been running. His hair, normally disheveled, is an ever bigger mess, and due to the temperature change between the cold wind outside, the sprint and the warm temperature inside Leblanc, his breathing is misting his glasses. All in all, he’s a mess right now, but if he knows that, he doesn’t seem to care. He uses one hand to take off his glasses, while the other one remains ominously behind his back.
The detective gets up quickly, seeing through his peripheral vision how Futaba leaves the counter and walks upstairs.
"Well, hello there, Kechi" Akira says, putting his glasses on again and walking towards Goro with his typical shit eating grin.
'Kechi' is the nickname Akira found for him a few weeks ago. Maybe admitting he didn't like it was his downfall, because now he uses it almost every time they talk; it doesn't matter if it's through messages or an actual face-to-face conversation, Akira will always find a spot to add the nickname. Goro grumbles and tries to ignore how his heart skips a beat the second Akira starts giggling.
"May I ask why you set whatever this is at noon and then you appear half an hour later?" he says, trying to change the subject. "I don't know about you, but some people have things to do."
"Okay, okay, sorry. It wasn't my intention. I just went outside and I kinda lost track of time."
Goro doesn’t reply, he just looks at Akira's arms. He still has them behind his back, something unusual for him. Akechi might not be a detective anymore but there are some things he does without realizing, like focusing a little too much on certain details. And this one detail is making him extremely nervous.
"What do you have there?" Akechi finally asks and tries to peep behind Akira's back. The boy, however, is fast, and he moves before Akechi can see what he's hiding.
"Nu-uh! Sorry, but if you want to see what I'm hiding, we have to talk first."
"Akira—."
"It's just a chat. No dirty tricks allowed. And after it, I'll show you, I promise."
There's an interminable silence —at least, that’s what it looks like, although it has only lasted a few seconds— until Goro finally nods, agreeing to the conditions of the guy who he once called leader.
"What's this all about?" his voice is steady and lineal, exactly what he was going for. Although he keeps pushing away those thoughts of being rejected by the only people he believes he can trust, there's still that fear of his voice shaking, breaking. That fear of showing Akira that he's scared of being left behind, of being rejected by him.
He's scared of Akira telling him they don't want him in the group anymore. That he doesn't want him in the group anymore.
"Why haven't you taken part in our Secret Santa?"
The question is so random and so out of the track Goro thought the conversation was going to that, when his brain registers Akira's words, he doesn’t know if he has heard correctly. He opens his mouth in an attempt to reply, but he can’t utter a single word. And even if he could, how would he reply to that?
"What?" he finally says. It's the most appropriate response he can think of.
"We organized a Secret Santa a few weeks ago and you didn't take part in it. What happened?"
"Why is that relevant?"
The black haired boy shrugs.
"We did it for the group, so we could all take part in it. But you didn't, so I just wanted to know if it's because of something in particular. Even if we're inactive right now, we're still the Phantom Thieves. We’re still a group of friends. Need I remind you you're part of them? Part of us?"
Akechi listens in silence and then he sighs, moving a bit to shift his weight from one leg to the other.
"Did you really make me meet you here only for this trivial matter?" well, that sounds really like Akira. The boy is full of surprises. "It wasn't for anything in particular… I just didn't want to take part in it, that's it. I don’t like those games."
There is also another reason behind it Goro hopes it's not too obvious: the randomness of the game. And even if it sounds dumb, it’s a big deal for him. He knows Kurusu planned this game to include Akechi, to make him feel as an integral part of the group. And, in theory, it was a good idea. But not in practice. Because Haru was there. Futaba was there. What if he had gotten any of their names? How would he had bought something for the girls after all he had done to them, after how much he had ruined their lives at some point? It was easier if he stayed away from all that. It’s not like he needs gifts anyways. And he’s not good at choosing gifts for others either.
The black haired boy nods and a gentle smile decorates his face.
"I knew you'd say that. That's why I've bought you something."
Finally, he moves his hands from his back, showing what he had been hiding during their short conversation. It's a bouquet. Surprise is reflected on Goro's face along with a bit of confusion and shame while he is practically forced to grab the bouquet.
"Accept it or I'll shove it up you ass. This is a threat." Akira's words, that are half serious and half joking, are enough to make Akechi snap out of his petrified state. He laughs almost in despair. Of all the things he was expecting of this meeting, none of them were even close to this.
"I… thank you? This is…"
This is… what? Too perfect? Too excessive? Too much?. He doesn't know how to finish his sentence, so he focuses on the flowers for the first time since he has picked up the bouquet. They are beautiful. They look delicate, as if a single glance could cut them in half. Their petals are of a strange color: it’s not violet or purple, nor blue. It's a mixture of both colors. The detective doesn't know its name, but he's sure it must have one.
"Do you know their names?" Akechi lifts up his gaze and looks at Akira, whose eyes change from being fixed to the bouquet to being fixed on his old teammate's face. Goro rolls his eyes.
"I'm a detective, not a florist."
“They are called ‘winter iris’. It’s a type of iris that blooms in winter,” Akira gets closer to Akechi until the only distance between them is only one meter or even less. “Irises mean several things. Although my favourite one is ‘hope’.”
The detective looks back at the flowers.
“Have you bought me winter irises because of that meaning?”
“Maybe.”
“And what do you want me to hope for?”
Akira stays in silence for a bit and then he shakes his head.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not about hoping for something in particular. Maybe it’s just about hoping. In general. In life. In things getting better or something like that, you know?” he smiles. “Do you like them?”
Kurusu’s words fill Goro’s head slowly. Flowers which represent hope. Flowers which, in Akira’s eyes, represent hoping for something, in something such as in life getting better. Something way too far away and big to even dream about. Lately, Goro has been finding himself thinking about that same hope. After all he has done, does he deserve to fight and believe for things to get better? Does he deserve to dream that? To hope that? He doesn’t express his thoughts out loud and just nods at Akira’s question.
“Yes, they are… beautiful. However, I still consider this a waste of time and money. I didn’t take part in that silly game because I don’t like it, not because I wanted you to buy me some flowers.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t do this out of pity or something, if that’s what you’re thinking. Actually, I wanted to buy something nice for you. But if you don’t like them, I might as well keep them for me, Kechi.”
Akechi furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something —or, more likely, to insult Akira—; however, when he realizes he doesn't have anything to say… or, more precisely, that he doesn't know what to say, he closes it with the same speed he opened it. Something about that loss of words makes Akira chuckle.
Goro stays in silence a few more minutes, not sure what to say or to do now. This kind gesture has not only come out of the blue, but it's been something similar to a critical hit for him: he has never received a lot of gifts —let alone sincere gifts, those given to him because the person really wanted to give them to him—, so he doesn’t really know what to do when he receives one.
“Thank you again,” he finally says after a while. “I really appreciate it.”
Akira shakes his head, still giving Goro a sweet but small smile.
“You don’t need to thank me. Again, I bought that bouquet because I really wanted to, not because I wanted you to thank me or because I felt bad for you. Consider it my ‘welcome back’ gift.” Goro has gone back to the flowers, so he doesn't realize Akira is attentively looking at him. "Also, it is not common to thank someone who hasn't given you all the presents, right?"
Goro lifts his head up, his eyes expressing confusion at Akira's words. He tries to ask him about that last part —another gift? but he doesn’t seem to have another one on him. Maybe it's inside his backpack?—, but before that can happen, Akira finishes walking the distance left between them, and grabbing his coat, he pulls Goro gently towards him. Their lips connect only a second and it's so delicate that anyone would have thought it hasn’t happened in reality. But the boy is aware it has really happened and that's enough to shock and break him from the inside in thousand little pieces, as if he was a mirror falling to the ground with force.
"Happy holidays, Kechi" he whispers against Goro's mouth after the kiss. And just like he moved closer to the guy, he draws back and goes upstairs as fast as his legs let him.
The other boy, on the contrary, doesn't move. He believes it's impossible he can move. His breath is still unsteady, going from really fast to almost non-existent, and his whole body feels as if it was a deflated balloon. And judging for the heat of his cheeks, he believes his face must be redder than Futaba's hair. That is practically confirmed when he hears a voice next to him.
"Hey 'Kechi'," the nickname sounds bitter and a little bit malicious from Futaba's lips. When Goro looks at her, she's trying to keep her composure, but the shadow of a smile haunts her face and refuses to leave. It's obvious she's trying to piss him off, although Goro is impressed to note that she now sounds more playful than angry or sarcastic. "You should leave soon. Those flowers need water."
The Detective Prince can't really say anything. He doesn't even try; he gives her a nod, picks up his things and walks to the door of the coffee shop.
"Oh, and I'd recommend a cold shower today, unless you want to keep your face that red" Futaba practically yells and starts laughing when the only reply the boy offers her is a really loud "tsk".
On the street, the wind is still cold. Even more now that the afternoon is slowly melting away and the sun is hiding, leaving its spot to the bright silver moon. Goro takes a few seconds before leaving the entry of Leblanc to touch his lips. The sole contact of his finger with them reminds him again of the kiss; it reminds him that it has happened, that he hasn't imagined it, and he can feel how his cheeks grow warmer despite the low temperatures. His heart starts beating a bit faster —or a lot faster—, which causes him to almost drop the bouquet. Luckily, he can grab it before it touches the ground.
While he walks back to his place, he tries to hide a smile that threatens to appear on his face as much as possible, thinking of the events that have taken place in the last hour. Sometimes he moves his head to look at the flowers.
'Winter Iris, the flower of hope…' he thinks.
Maybe they do really bring hope.