Chapter Text
It’s really, intolerably early in the morning in New York City when Rantaro’s phone goes off on the nightstand, vibrating softly against the wood. Unfortunately, the room is silent save for the muffled sounds of the city through his window, so Rantaro hears it quite well. He groans, rolling onto his other side, but ultimately reaches over for the device.
There are any number of reasons why someone would need to call him this early in the morning. An emergency with a friend, a tip from one of his contacts on where his sisters might be. An ill-timed favour needed by his father. It could also be something stupid, like a call to remind him of an upcoming doctor’s appointment, but Rantaro can’t risk missing anything that pertains to his sisters, so he unplugs his phone and squints at the bright screen. He hadn’t really been sleeping, anyway.
His vision is blurry enough that it takes him a moment to make out the Caller ID. Finally being able to read the name raises as many questions as it answers, but Rantaro still pulls himself upright and answers the call, sandwiching the phone against his ear. If it’s him, then the issue could be with someone in their class, or Kokichi specifically…
“Hey, Momota-kun, what’s going on?” Rantaro asks. His voice comes out thick and tired, but he doesn’t bother trying to disguise it. Kaito can be a bit reckless at times, even thoughtless; maybe hearing how dead inside Rantaro sounds will impress upon him that this isn’t an amazing time to call.
“Hi, Amami,” Kaito responds. He sounds a little breathless, almost winded, like he’s been running. It wakes Rantaro up a little. Sweeping his hand through his hair, Rantaro prepares to respond with more concern, but Kaito beats him to the punch: “So uh, I dunno how to put this. We’re dating now.”
Of all the things Rantaro had been revving himself up to hear, that can go in maybe the bottom one thousand. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah, uhh—wait, shit. What time is it over there? Should I call you back?”
Rantaro stares over at the blinking red numbers of the hotel room’s alarm clock, which now read 3:06AM. After a pause to weigh his curiosity and his body’s natural need for sleep, Rantaro eventually responds, “I can last through a short phone call. I think I should be telling you to buy me dinner first, but it sounds as though that’s already happened?”
“Uh… haha.” Kaito sounds more awkward than Rantaro’s ever heard him. “Sorry. I keep putting my foot in my mouth. What I meant was… I need a favour.”
“Well, I’ll admit,” Rantaro says, leaning against the headboard, “this is the most unorthodox way I’ve ever been asked out, but not the weirdest. Unless you also have llamas and a mariachi band waiting for me outside of my hotel room, then it’d probably be the weirdest.”
Kaito lets out a laugh, slightly crackly through the received. “I mean—no. Because I ain’t asking you out. It’s more like I… need you to do somethin’ for me for a little while. Not like, actually date me.”
Okay… that clarifies a little bit, but not much. Rantaro is relieved he doesn’t have to reject someone fresh off of waking up, though. That would’ve said really bad things for how today is going to go. He mulls over how to respond for a moment, rubbing his eyes as he processes Kaito’s words. He can palpably feel the other boy’s anxiety from the other end of the line, and it’s intense. Before he gives any kind of answer, Rantaro wants to understand what he’s talking about and what he needs—and maybe calm him down a little, too.
“Alright, Momota-kun, you have my attention,” Rantaro says, trying not to sound as tired as he feels as he settles in for what feels like it’s going to be a long phone call. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“I—yeah, okay. But you gotta promise not to tell anybody this.”
Rantaro hums his agreement. “Right. I’m listening, whenever you’re ready.”
Most people don’t like Mondays, but Kaito does. Not because he particularly hates weekends, or because he particularly likes attending class after a weekend, but because of what he has to look forward to as he steps inside the classroom. Today, it’s a bucket of gummy worms, cascading down on his—and Shuichi’s—heads the second he’s passed the threshold between the hall and the classroom.
“Ah,” Shuichi says. He picks a gummy worm out of his hair and frowns at it. “I see he got back at you for the snails.”
Kaito grins at the reminder. Last Thursday, Kokichi had entered his bedroom to find all his socks traded out for identical pairs of snail-patterned ankle socks. Kaito had given them back once Kokichi came to find him, but he’s still pleased by his own craftsmanship; Kokichi hates snails. And Kaito had felt like a genius recruiting Himiko to pick his lock, even if he’d had to pay her off in nearly a month’s allowance worth of juice boxes.
He tilts his head up to look at the bucket, now permanently installed over the door thanks to a combination of Kokichi’s frequent pranks and Miu’s ingenuity. The teacher had reluctantly agreed to let Miu put it up there on the grounds that it would be talent development for her, and also that bucket-over-the-door tricks can be dangerous, and Kokichi has a penchant for them.
“Glad he didn’t go with milk this time,” Kaito remarks, stepping out from a pile of gummy worms. “Feels like kind of a waste of candy though…”
“Only if you’re a loser who won’t eat floor candy!” Kokichi chirps, popping up from behind Kaito. Kaito jumps, letting out a grumble and nudging the smaller boy back by his forehead. Kokichi giggles as he ducks under Kaito’s hand, squatting over the fallen soldiers and sticking a gummy worm in his mouth. “Haven’t you ever heard of the five second rule?”
Shuichi furrows his brow. “It’s been much longer than five seconds.”
“And, that shit’s totally unscientific!” Kaito gripes, nonetheless crouching down by Kokichi and scooping a few gummy worms for himself. He bites the head off one of them as he talks. “Bacteria doesn’t wait five seconds before it gets on something!”
“Wooooow, that’s totally rude of it!” Kokichi says, eyes wide. “When I take over the world, my first law will be banning all bacteria! Every single one!”
“That’d kill you, too,” Kaito points out, poking at Kokichi’s chest. “Not all bacteria is bad. Humans require a lot of it to live—that’s why you wouldn’t wash your hands with dish soap. We’re pretty much walking, talking colonies of—”
“Okay! Ick, gross!” Kokichi darts away with a couple gummy works still sticking out of his mouth. It gets a laugh out of Kaito. The dude either likes to be dramatic, or he’s surprisingly squeamish. Regardless of which is the truth, Kaito looks back down and continues sweeping gummy worms into his hands.
Now that Kokichi is gone, Shuichi bends down beside Kaito to help him clean up. He pulls a face as Kaito sticks another gummy worm in his mouth.
“You just spent all that time arguing why the five second rule doesn’t exist,” he comments, tossing a worm in the trash. Kaito watches it go with a sigh. Shuichi’s got the right idea, but it’s still so sad to see them go.
Kaito shrugs. “I got a hearty metabolism. Little bit of floor food never hurt anybody.” He grabs the last of the worms and tucks them into his pocket for later, an action Shuichi follows with a deeper frown, then gets to his feet. “You think he’s amping up for something?”
“Ah, how do you mean?”
In lieu of answering right away, Kaito glances over to where Kokichi has sat back down at his desk, leaned back in his chair to chat with Gonta, who sits behind him. Or really, it looks more like Kokichi’s doing all the chatting, as Gonta appears to be following Kokichi’s rambles with a bemused but polite smile on his face. Classic for them. Kaito feels his chest flutter as he watches Kokichi’s animated gesturing before remembering he’d posed a question.
“Just, uh… this is pretty mild by his usual standards.” Kaito nods towards the bucket. “Usually that means he’s doing something small to pass the time while he works his way up to something bigger.”
Shuichi gives Kaito an indecipherable look at that. “Maybe.”
He starts over to their desks, and Kaito follows, but his gaze lingers on Kokichi. It’s fine that Shuichi isn’t really interested; the two of them, Kokichi and Shuichi, they don’t really get along so well. Kaito didn’t used to get along with Kokichi either, but… their first year was a long one. It’d given Kaito a lot of time to learn about Kokichi, to settle into this routine of weekly pranks and chases around the school. Right now, midway through their second year, he… doesn’t know that he ever wants this routine to end.
“Well, whatever it is, I’m gonna be ready for it!” Kaito decides, dropping into his desk with a huff. He leans back, propping his feet up on the table. Kaede and Maki, sitting in front of them, turn to glance back as Shuichi takes his place as well.
“Right…” Shuichi offers a small smile. “I’m sure you will, Momota-kun.”
“Ouma-kun’s really met his match with you,” Kaede agrees, leaning forward with her eyes sparkling. “I always look forward to whatever shenanigans you two are getting up to! As long as it doesn’t make trouble for the rest of us, I mean.”
Kaito does his best not to make other people suffer the consequences of pranks meant for Kokichi. He doesn’t think it’d be that heroic to have collateral—and besides, those are for Kokichi, not anyone else. Kaede probably just said that for Shuichi and Maki’s sake, though, as she’s never seemed to mind being caught in the crossfire. Maki, to contrast, looks just a touch grumpy as she glances back at Kaito. Her gaze quickly darts back forward.
“Momota,” Maki greets in a quiet voice. Kaito offers her a softer smile.
“Mornin’, Harumaki. Get all the homework done?”
Maki pouts. “Of course I did.” She fidgets with a piece of hair and looks at Kaito again, her brow knitting. Eventually she turns forward once more. “I want to talk to you later. Alone, I mean.”
Oh. Kaito tilts his head to the side, wondering what could be on her mind. Maybe something happened with her? Kaito would have thought she’d let Shuichi in on it too, they’ve always seemed pretty close, but…
As Kaito’s gaze trails over to Shuichi, he sees the detective has something of a knowing look on his face. So maybe it’s something that Kaito did, that Maki’s already confided in Shuichi… sheesh, how intimidating. Kaito rubs the back of his neck and nods, offering a reassuring smile that Maki can’t see.
“Sure. Anything you want, sidekick. I’ll hang around after class is up and we can talk then, yeah?”
Maki nods curtly. Kaito watches her shoulders tense and relax, worry starting to brew in the corners of his mind. It’s probably nothing serious, right? Maki is a decent communicator now, surely she would have told him already… Kaito scratches his chin for a while, lost in thought, before deciding to put it out of his mind. He’ll learn when he learns; dwelling on what it might be won’t change the result.
And indeed, when the rest of the class has filed out and Kaito and Maki are alone, Maki looks the same as she did this morning, uncharacteristically nervous, shifting her weight and playing with her hair. Kaito waits patiently for her to speak, avoiding looking at her eyes to make this easier on her, and then—
“I have feelings for you,” Maki says. Her gaze lifts, and she meets Kaito’s voluntarily. Swallows. “Romantic ones, I mean.”
Oh. Kaito leans against his desk somewhat just to get the weight off his feet, feeling his palms start to sweat. This is Maki, so he has to be careful about how he phrases this; coming out about feelings for anyone is brave of her, and Kaito won’t allow himself to be the thing that makes it harder on her.
It’s just that when he puts all of that to the side, when he thinks about kissing Maki, or holding her close like he would a girlfriend—his stomach churns a little. Not with disgust, more like discomfort. Kaito has never thought about Maki in that way, and he doesn’t especially know how to start— even if she did, he’s not sure that it would be genuine, thoughts prompted only by her admittance of feelings for him, and Kaito is unsure of a lot of things in this moment, but he’s certain that Maki deserves better than someone who would only say yes out of pity or obligation.
Maki is his friend. One of his best friends, even, though Kaito hesitates to use that terminology for his sidekicks. They’re closer than best friends, the people he would entrust his legacy to. Kaito would do anything to avoid being a burden on them, to avoid making it harder for Maki to speak up than it already is—but if Kaito lies, he’ll be a burden on her too. His hands are positively slick now with moisture, so he has to reach back and wipe them on his jacket.
Kaito takes a breath. Feels his chest flutter as he does. What can he say, how can he salvage this, how can he keep Maki as a friend and reject her all in one breath?
…
“I’m gay,” Kaito says.
Maki blinks. “What?”
Shit. Shit. Fuck. “I-I mean, I uh,” Kaito clears his throat, feeling his neck start to warm, “I like guys. You know? I’m into—guys, romantically.”
And it’s true, Kaito is. He’s never been the type to think too much about how he feels towards other people, generally disinclined to muddy the waters with selfish emotions, but Kaito would have to be stupid to ignore the way his heart flutters whenever he’s just inches away from catching Kokichi. He’s into men. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s gay, he’s never drawn any sort of hard lines in that regard, but Kaito’s also never liked a woman before, so that doesn’t necessarily make it untrue.
To Maki, though, it could easily seem like some kind of excuse, a lie just to spare her feelings, so Kaito quickly adds another: “Plus, I uh, I’ve got a boyfriend already.”
“Oh.” Maki wrinkles her brow, looking more confused than upset. “I—I’m sorry, Momota, I didn’t know.”
It’s the first time Kaito’s ever heard Maki apologise about anything, so he panics. “N-No! No, don’t apologise. Honestly, we uh, haha, we wanted to be a little discreet, because—” Kaito feels sweat dripping down the back of his neck, his heart pounding so hard it’s almost a little painful. “—because I’m not out to anybody yet, and I just… you know, wanted to keep it under wraps until I was ready?” His voice cracks. Kaito suppresses the urge to cringe at his obvious dishonesty.
Maki, though, doesn’t seem skeptical. She looks down. “You don’t have to look so scared. I’m… not going to judge you.” Her arms fold, curling over her stomach, more of a defensive measure than a frustrated one. “You could have just said no, you didn’t have to say that before you were ready.”
“I—” Yeah, she’s got a point. But just saying no still means having to give a reason, and Kaito isn’t sure how he’d articulate I love you more than almost anyone but I probably wouldn’t kiss you anywhere but the forehead without sounding like an asshole. This is arguably, not that much better, though, especially given the current object of his affection. Maki seems accepting enough now, but she’d probably turn on a dime if she knew Kaito sometimes dreams about kissing Kokichi. “Okay, yeah. My bad. I didn’t mean to make this about me.”
“You didn’t.” Maki scoffs. “It’s fine. I don’t care.” She lets out a breath, running a hand down her face. “This is stupid. Just forget I even said anything.”
Kaito knits his brow, reaching for her. His fingers hover over her shoulder. “Harumaki… that’s not true at all. Even if I don’t feel how you do, I’m still proud of you for saying it, y’know? It takes a lot of courage to step forward and tell someone how you feel—think about how far you’ve come! Would you have been able to do this a year ago?”
Maki grumbles. “Maybe the me of a year ago had the right idea.”
“Stop that,” Kaito complains, ruffling her hair. Maki bats at his hand, but the gesture is halfhearted. “Seriously, I’m proud of you. And I’m glad you said it, really.”
“Of course you would be.” Maki sighs. She shakes her head. “Fine, whatever. I won’t say I regret it, or that it’s stupid.” She opens her eyes now, peering at Kaito. “Who’s the boyfriend?”
Oh no. “Oh, uhh, haha, you don’t know him that well, he—”
“Is he in the closet too?” Maki asks, frowning mildly. “I’m not going to out either of you. I’m just curious… it’s not Saihara, is it?”
“No!” God, no. Kaito likes Shuichi, but it would’ve been the same situation if Shuichi had been the one confessing—except, Kaito supposes, he would’ve had to lie and say he’s straight, so maybe it’s better that it’s Maki. “No. It’s uh—” He can’t say Kokichi, as much as a part of him kind of wants to. Kokichi would probably enjoy that, being named as a make-pretend boyfriend, but again… any levity he’s regained throughout this conversation would be lost the second Maki found out Kaito’s supposed beau is someone she hates so much. Kaito should say a fake name, someone Maki wouldn’t know, and then fake a breakup later to avoid— “It’s Amami, actually.”
That is not a fake name. That is a very real name, Luminary!
“Amami?” Maki blinks. “Really? I didn’t know you two talked.”
That’s because they don’t. Pretty much ever. Kaito has had maybe three full-length one on one conversations with Rantaro, and one was exchanging names at the beginning of their first year. It’s not for lack of wanting on Kaito’s part, Rantaro seems nice, it’s just that Rantaro’s out of town so often and Kaito’s so busy even when he is around that they never get the chance. They run in different circles. Even if Rantaro is arguably Kokichi’s best friend, it’s like… the kind of relationship a hero would have with a villain’s henchman, you know? It’s superficial.
But Kaito can’t just say haha, just kidding! I’m actually dating Ouma. Best case scenario, Maki scoffs at him. Worst case scenario, Kaito actually dies.
“We—do,” Kaito says. “Alone. Sorry, I’m still pretty new to all of this stuff.”
Maki exhales through her nose. “That’s fine.” She turns her head away. “Amami… well, if he matters to you, then I want to talk to him later.” Her eyes dart back to Kaito. “If it’s fine that I know.”
It isn’t, and that actually presents so many fucking issues, but not for any of the reasons that Maki thinks it does. I don’t even know if Amami swings that way—fuck! Kaito physically has to suppress the urge to rake his hands through his hair and slam his head against the wall. What a nightmare.
“Y-Yeah, that’s cool!” Kaito says. “I’ll uh, I’ll let him know. But if you could keep this under wraps, Harumaki—”
“It’s fine.” Maki nods. “I won’t tell. You should tell Saihara eventually, though. He’ll support you.” She pauses then, tilting her head to the side and letting out a breath. “It… doesn’t feel great, Momota. But I support you, too. I’m—sorry you had to tell me before you were ready.”
Kaito’s chest clenches. He’s going to hell. “No, man. It was time to tell you anyhow.” That much at least is true enough. “Thanks for uh… being cool about it. And for telling me your piece, too.”
Puffing out her cheeks, Maki nods. Kaito tells her to go on ahead, so she does, and when the door shuts behind her, Kaito slumps down against the wall and stares off into space.
It’s been maybe half an hour by the time he remembers to reach for his phone, numbly pulling up Rantaro’s contact.
“...So yeah, that’s what happened.”
Rantaro, at the very least now fully awake, lets the silence settle in the aftermath of Kaito’s story. It is, without a doubt, one of the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard—yet strangely very believable. Very much something that would happen to Kaito of all people. Not that Rantaro knows from personal experience, but he’s sat through more than one of Kokichi’s rants on how Kaito gives too much and doesn’t save anything for himself… it makes sense that Kaito would out himself just to save his friend the embarrassment of a proper rejection.
Thus, Rantaro has to roll his lips between his teeth to stifle a laugh. “I see… Momota-kun, I’m so sorry. That sounds unbelievably stressful.”
“Tell me about it,” Kaito groans. “She was bein’ so damn nice about it too… all because I couldn’t tell her the truth after she went to all the trouble… fuck.” Rantaro hears a muffled thunk. “What kinda hero am I…”
“Don’t talk like that,” Rantaro chides, keeping his tone light. “It wasn’t your smartest move, but you did the best you could after being put on the spot. And you were maybe… half-truthful, too, so that’s something to be happy about, right?”
“Half-dishonest, though…”
Rantaro will grant him that. “Just relax a little, Momota-kun. God himself isn’t going to come down and condemn you for this. At worst, you’ll get exposed for lying about being single, and it’ll be embarrassing, but Harukawa-san will forgive you. At best…”
He trails off there, rubbing his chin. The benefit to sitting through Kaito’s story is that he’s feeling much more awake now, and his mind is whirring. It’s no different to him than playing nice with an associate of his father’s, really. If Rantaro plays his cards right…
“At best?” Kaito prompts, sounding a bit uncertain.
“Well, Harukawa-san asked to talk to me. Right? So I come back home, I play the doting boyfriend, and we sit down for a lunch or something with Harukawa-san. She can suss me out. We leave the lunch, let a week or two go by, and you tell her we broke up. Amicable parting, just realised we weren’t actually compatible in that way. Quick, easy, painless. Yeah?”
Kaito is quiet for a moment. “You’re really willing to do all of that?”
“Sure thing,” Rantaro says, letting out a little laugh. “I don’t mind. I’m happy to do a favour for one of Ouma-kun’s…” Kaito would probably object to the friend title. Kokichi most definitely would. “...adversaries. Besides, it could be fun. I never get to participate in the shenanigans everyone else gets involved in.”
That gets a snorting laugh out of Kaito. “Geez… you’re kind of a weirdo, it’s no wonder Ouma likes you so much.”
“Now, is that any way to talk to someone who’s going to do you a favour?” Rantaro chides, without any bite to his voice. “Does that sound like a plan, Momota-kun? We can talk specifics or guidelines when I’m back.”
“Ah, what the hell.” Kaito exhales audibly. “Sure, man. Let’s do it. I’ll owe you one—or maybe ten. Thanks for hearin’ me out, and for agreeing to this.”
“Mm.” Rantaro has a few ideas of things he could ask for, most of them involving Kokichi, but he’ll let it sit for a while first. “I do have one caveat, if that’s alright by you. Other things I do want to talk about when we’re face to face, but this one I want to lay out right away.”
“Yeah, of course!” Kaito almost seems to have perked up. “What is it?”
Rantaro recalls the dreamy look Kokichi gets in his eyes every time he talks about Kaito chasing him, or being invested in him—the way Kokichi will grumble and sigh about how pretty Kaito’s eyes are, or how much he wants to feel Kaito’s arms around him for real.
In a measured voice, Rantaro says, “I want to be able to tell Ouma-kun what we’re doing, if that’s alright.”
Kaito sucks in a sharp breath. “Ouma? Really? Why?”
Rantaro obviously can’t tell him that. “It’s my caveat, Momota-kun. I can’t do this if he doesn’t know the truth, and I want it to come from me. He’s my best friend?”
“Well…” Kaito still sounds a bit hesitant, but after another pause, he says, “Yeah, you’re right. You shouldn’t have to hide it from anybody. Just when you tell him, make sure he doesn’t make fun of me. Or if he tries to make fun of me let him know I’ll throttle him.”
That gets a laugh out of Rantaro. “Alright, Momota-kun. Will do. My flight back is in two days, will you keep until then?”
“Somehow,” Kaito agrees. “Take care, Amami. Good luck with uh… whatever it is you do out there.”
Rantaro glances out the window at the New York City skyline. Colour has begun to spread across the horizon. Sunrise is soon.
…He wonders if his sister is really out there, waiting for him to find her, or if he’s long since missed the boat. He wonders that every time he comes and fails.
“Thank you,” Rantaro says. He manages to sound sincere enough; really, he appreciates the sentiment. “Go relax for a while, Momota-kun. It sounds as though you could use a nap.”
With that, Rantaro hangs up and slumps back in bed, groaning. He could probably try to rest a little bit more, but… with how awake he feels now, it’d be a waste of energy if he didn’t get up and search.
Pushing off his blankets and running a hand through his hair, Rantaro temporarily pushes all thoughts of Kaito and Maki and a pretend-date out of his mind, preparing to lose himself searching as he does every day. It’s the least he owes his sisters.