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"I'm still not so sure about it."
Akechi stood in front of the mirror, fingers smoothing the fabric of the black tracksuit. It was Akira's idea—of course it was. When he first heard of the suggestion to buy matching costumes, he merely rolled his eyes, thinking it would pass soon. However, it turned out that Akira was really stubborn on this topic and wasn’t going to let go so easily. That's why he ended up dressed as Shadow Hedgehog, with a hood imitating the character's head softly surrounding strands of his hair.
He didn't hate the vision of doing cute couple things with Akira, even when it involved cartoon characters. Actually, especially when it involved them. Until a while ago, he probably would’ve pretended that he didn't enjoy such activities at all; or that he personally wasn't a fan of what was widely considered to be childish. Now—well, quite a few things have changed.
So, yeah. The problem wasn't cartoons or costumes. He was the only problem. And in his view, there was nothing surprising about that. He was already used to this state of affairs as well as this way of thinking.
Akira was in the back, displaying his blue tracksuit that made him resemble Sonic's character. With a slight smile on his face, he turned around to assess the details of the outfit, which at first glance were out of sight.
"Why? The costume doesn't fit?" he asked, stepping closer to rest his chin on Goro's shoulder. A storm of his black curls stuck out from under the hood, and he had to admit that he looked adorable this way. Which was probably the purpose of these outfits, given that they were originally produced for children. "You look cute."
Akechi sighed, as it was definitely not the size, color, cut or anything else of the costume that was the problem. Though if it had been, he would certainly have been very vocal about it as well.
"No," he replied, avoiding looking in the mirror. "I don't think this whole party is a good idea. Or rather, my presence at it."
He closed his eyes, feeling a light breeze on his neck. Then any touch disappeared for a moment before Akira took his hands between his own fingers.
"Honey," he said softly, with that infinite patience that many would envy. "We talked about it already."
Of course they talked. And on more than one occasion. Each time, Akira explained that showing up with him was perfectly fine and none of his—their—friends hated him or wanted him dead. Goro remained skeptical, and while he really tried to convince himself that his thoughts on the subject weren't true, it didn't work out as smoothly as he wanted it to.
He had gotten used to the idea that he was Akira's weird boyfriend, whom everyone tolerated just for the sake of not making him upset. It didn't bother him, or at least that's how he tried to approach it. And if he had to ruin an evening with his friends, he preferred to stay in their apartment. Maybe he would sit down to that book he had recently started reading; or go to bed earlier. It wouldn't have been a big deal.
"I know. That doesn't mean I've changed my mind." he replied, staring into the silver, which had melted steel over time. It became soft. He became soft.
"You are so stubborn," he shook his head, letting the air out from between his lips without making a sound.
"And you're foolish."
Akira smiled in that characteristic way of his, as if he had any reason to do so. He leaned towards him and left kisses on both of his cheeks, making him wrinkle his nose.
"We went out with Ann and Shiho so many times. And we got both invited to this party. She likes you. They both like you," he said. "You don't have to worry about that. If you don't want to stay for the night, we'll leave early. That's alright."
"You see, that's exactly the problem with you," Goro let go of his hands. "Besides, Ann likes everyone. And her girlfriend doesn't know she's spending time with a former hitman. I believe that she wouldn't be so eager to have these dinners together otherwise."
"Shiho would understand," he interjected immediately. "They all understand."
Akechi smiled crookedly, because he knew he couldn't overtalk Akira and his sick, idealized vision of their life. No matter how much he talked and pretended that they could live normally, it wasn't true. The two of them somehow managed, but when other people with whom he shared a past came along, things became complicated.
Sometimes he wished Sae had never found out about his stay at the rehabilitation center. Maybe then he could quietly turn himself in to the police and spend the rest of his life in prison. Maybe something would finally go his way, if death didn't work out twice. But he would be lying if he said that seeing Akira again didn’t bring him peace—no matter how selfish it was. He helped him believe that with him by his side he could heal slowly. At least a little.
"They may understand, but understanding doesn't equate to wanting to be in the same room as me, not to mention forming friendship," he trailed off with his eyes as Akira began to move around the room. "I sometimes feel uncomfortable with this image, let alone people directly affected by my actions."
"Don't talk about yourself that way."
"But it's true."
It was hilarious, really. Talking about it while dressed as characters from a children's game, an hour before the scheduled party.
Akira didn't sigh, didn't show any exhaustion over his behavior or his person in general—and Goro sometimes wished he did. Or he didn't. But he thought that he could then disappear and relieve him a bit.
"We... we're all trying to make it work, okay?" the boy paused as he folded the clothes he intended to pack later into a carry-on bag. "They want you as much as I want you… Okay, maybe not. That was a lie. No one wants you as badly as I do."
He laughed under his breath and Goro knew he had lost. There was no winning with him.
"But they all want you enough to spend time with you of their own accord. To bring you gifts. To worry about you and enjoy the things that make you happy," Akira continued. "And I know that our life isn’t normal. Maybe it will never be, but—I don't want a different life. I never wanted."
Akechi clicked his tongue uneasily, crossing his arms over his chest and began rubbing his shoulders. Avoiding his gaze, he thought.
And perhaps it was a bit for a show. He wasn't sure if he was even able to tell him no. Not when Akira was so happy to just have him close to his side.
"Oh, shut up," he rolled his eyes, not having to lift his gaze to know that a wide smile had appeared on the boy's face. And of course he was right. "Let's pack these things, we're going to be late."
Perhaps he didn't fully understand why he was the source of Akira's happiness. He wasn't even sure if he would ever understand. But when Akira put his arms around his waist and pulled him close with the corners of his mouth raised, starting to leave quick kisses on his face, he decided that he could always try.
He, too, became soft.
When the door to Ann and Shiho's apartment opened, the first thing that struck them was the warmth. And there should've been nothing unusual about that; apartment interiors were generally warm. But this warmth was different, unbearably creeping too many feelings into Goro's heart.
The next thing he knew was the murmur of the television turned on and someone's incessant shuffling around the set of rooms. Then he blinked, and the smile of the girl standing in front of them somehow blocked his access to further examination of the freshly experienced stimuli.
Ann was dressed as Princess Peach. A well-known character—and, moreover, a fitting one at that. Seeing her dress, hairstyle and makeup that she must've put a lot of work into, he felt almost stupid facing her in what could've qualified as pajamas. Reminding himself that he was dealing with a model didn't help at all.
"Say what you want, but I didn't expect you two to be first. You're way too early!" she announced after taking them both into a warm hug.
"I don't like the implication of this that we're always late," Akira laughed once they were inside, with the door closed behind their backs. "But, well, let's just say that Goro was very eager to see you—"
Akechi rolled his eyes, because what else was left for him to do.
"Aw, isn't he cute?" Ann smiled wider.
"Can we please not start talking about me like I'm some three-year-old child," he sighed. "Again."
Shiho eventually emerged from the kitchen. She looked quite similar to Ann. Her costume mimicked Princess Daisy's, making her hair fall loosely around her shoulders. A rare sight, but one that definitely suited her.
"Oh, come on," Akira spoke up. "Princess Peach and Princess Daisy? How gay can you get?"
"Said the guy in Sonic's costume," Shiho sent him a piteous look, which drew an indignant sound from Kurusu and a slightly amused one from Akechi. "It's good to see you guys. Sorry, but we're not quite ready yet. I mean, it's just a few things, but..."
"Oh, right!" Ann suddenly grabbed Akira's arm. "Now that you're here, you can help me with setting things up in the living room. Go, go, go!"
He blinked, confused. "Um, okay, fine, let's go!"
Goro led them away with his eyes, hearing them quickly plunge into conversation. Then he sighed quietly, practically not noticing that he had done so at all. Staying alone in the presence of Akira's friends still involved a certain awkwardness that he couldn't get rid of; just like thinking that they were solely his friends. He was just an addition. Perhaps not too colorful, not exactly wanted—
Shiho smiled at him as their gazes crossed. She was one of the few people closer to him who didn't get a chance to judge him based on what had happened in the past. However, it didn't give him any comfort or he didn't think it was fair, given that she simply didn't know. And the lack of knowledge, especially in a situation like this, could be damaging.
Nevertheless, he liked her. She was quite different from Ann, but had something about her that made them complement each other. Knowing about her past, he sympathized with her more than he would admit to himself. But it wasn't the sympathizing itself that was the point—she was just a very likeable person. Even by his standards.
"This is Akira's doing, isn't it?" she asked, glancing at his outfit.
Oh, right. Pulling himself out of his slightly too philosophical thoughts, he concluded that it wasn't that serious. At least not now that he had decided to come to this costume party.
In the end, he cleared his throat. "I think it's pretty obvious."
"Do I know," amused sparks flashed in the girl's eyes. "You're both nerds."
"And what’s that supposed to mean?" he raised his eyebrows, which drew a giggle from her.
"Nothing," she shook her head with amusement. "Well, I'm decorating cupcakes and I still have a few left, so I could really use your help. If you want to, of course."
Akechi clasped his shoulders, because it didn't sound like he had a choice at all. And Shiho's characteristic smile completely confirmed it.
"I'm not a good cook," he scrunched up his nose, trying to wriggle out of this situation somehow. "I can go get Akira. I'm sure he—"
"Goro, you won't be cooking anything. It's fine," she interjected. "You can't possibly mess up decorating cupcakes. I'm not some excellent confectioner myself, you know. It's just for fun."
For fun.
Just as he thought before, it wasn't that serious. However, that didn't mean that subconsciously he didn't take everything personally enough to look for a second ground in everything others said to him. He felt judged and tested at every move; no matter how much time passed, he couldn't let go of it. Coming to the realization that not everything he did had to have a deeper meaning wasn’t easy. Even in Akira's company, it took him quite a while to completely relax.
But it was just for fun. It was fine.
"Alright, but if I burn down the kitchen, it won't be my fault." he announced, already starting to walk towards the said room.
Shiho laughed again, following him. "How would you even do that if you're not going to use fire?"
"Oh, I have more talents than you think," he smirked under his breath. "You can ask Akira."
"I certainly will," she replied, nodding. "And I assure you I'll get the most embarrassing details out of him."
With a hint of warmth creeping clumsily onto his lips, he stepped into the kitchen. His attention was immediately drawn to the pile of miscellaneous items scattered on the countertops; be it small cardboard boxes, confectionery decorations or small fruits. He wondered how they managed not to get dirty, doing it all already stylized for the party. Then Shiho put on her apron and at least part of the things became clear.
"Mona's not with you? I was already prepared to find his fur in all corners of the house for the next month," she said, never stopping to smile. Noticing that Akechi invariably stood like a rock in one place, she moved the colored icing pens towards him. "And honestly, I miss it a bit. Maybe we should take in a cat, too."
He focused his gaze on the markers lying in front of him. In an instant, a complete void swirled inside his head; how was he supposed to know how to use them in a way that would have a satisfying effect? He had never spent his time decorating cupcakes. Wanting to reach out for help, he looked towards the already finished sweets. On some of them there were small, imperfect—one might say adorable—drawings of each of their friends. Others had various initials or patterns that didn't look like anyone had put any major thought into them.
Then he remembered what had been said earlier. It was for fun. Right. That's what he should stick to.
So with a mildly embarrassed blush furiously coating his cheeks, he reached for one of the cupcakes and bit his lower lip.
"Only a month? You're lucky. I don't think I'll ever get rid of his fur from my clothes," he muttered in response, uncertainly taking the red icing pen in hand. "He's at Futaba's this week. She's already sent Akira pictures of him in his own cat costume, so I suppose that Boss will drop them off later."
Shiho, meanwhile, was busy with her cupcake. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that she had drawn the shape of a cat on it. "Oh, I see," she hummed. "I bet he'll look cute."
It was so normal—to talk with her like that. Engaging in decorating and casual conversation, Goro almost felt like everything was fine. And maybe it could've been; maybe he really wanted it to be.
Since he met her, he had managed to notice that she was a rather distant person. This made them similar, even if she was much more willing to get into social situations and was definitely friendlier, without that envelope of skepticism that he carried everywhere behind him. Still, she seemed to understand Akechi's needs and boundaries better than most people he dealt with. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was grateful that Akira had introduced them to each other and that Ann kept initiating them to go out together in their free time. When it was just the four of them, opening up came definitively easier for him.
It's been a long time since, instead of thinking if he really deserved it, he decided to just accept it. And it's all thanks to dumb cupcakes.
Shiho wasn’t pushy. They talked about trivial matters, utter nonsense even—and then appraised each other's icing creations, which were undeniably a great display of their artistic skills. It was a silly activity, but Goro was able to see that she was drawing better than him.
After about fifteen minutes, when the cupcakes were already done, the doorbell rang as if right on cue.
"They have a timing," the girl took off her apron and put it aside, then hurriedly washed her hands. "Once again, thanks for your help. I'll go open—Akira! Damn, what have you guys been doing in this living room for so long? Carry the cupcakes to the table with Goro!"
"Sorry, but Ann used me to blow balloons. I'm now as out of breath as if I had run a marathon. I think I'm getting old," he sighed, putting a hand to his chest. "And yes, ma'am, coming right up."
He saluted with a smile, making Shiho giggle and, shaking her head, slip past him, leaving the kitchen. Goro for his part rolled his eyes with amusement, then moved his gaze back to the sweets. However, it didn't take long to feel Akira's presence right next to him.
"So," he started. "Cupcakes. Wow, they look delicious. What did Shiho do to convince you to do this?"
"She asked," he replied, returning his eyes to the boy's face. "Politely."
"Really? It almost never works out for me."
Goro grinned slyly. "Maybe I just like her better than you."
"Oh?" Akira raised an eyebrow and suddenly his hand was on Akechi's waist. Never breaking eye contact, he leaned towards him. "I beg to differ."
Their lips rubbed gently against each other. It was a slow, quick kiss, but it was enough for Goro to reach up and gently stroke the boy's cheek. After a moment, he slid it down to his chest and breathed quietly, while Akira's gaze slid to the side.
"Is it for me?" he asked suddenly, and Akechi focused his gaze on the same point as him with a little confusion.
Oh, so that's what he was talking about. One of the cupcakes was decorated with a heart made of red icing with the letter A written inside of it.
Goro swallowed his saliva, feeling an embarrassment that for some reason began to burn not only his face, but also his abdomen. In an act of shame, he pulled away from Kurusu and tightened his fingers on the cupcake plate.
"Of course not," he snorted. "We were supposed to take it to the table. Hurry up."
And with a genuine, loud laugh, Akira went right after him.
When Makoto, dressed as Tifa Lockhart, and Haru, wearing Aerith Gainsborough's costume from the Final Fantasy game series, stood on the apartment's doorstep, Akechi was once again met with mixed feelings located deep in his chest. Of everyone in the group, he was probably seeing them the least often; it wasn't intentional, their schedules just aligned poorly. Though he wasn't sure if it bothered him. Maybe not entirely.
Haru brought everyone small gifts—and then he was reminded about how rich this girl was. Not only in material terms, but also in emotional ones. If he were in her place, he probably would never look himself in the eyes again, let alone spend money on any sort of present. Even if it was of a purely mocking nature.
But was it? Did purchasing a gift to mock someone even make any sense?
He took the bag in his hands. It was pink with white dots, and when he looked inside, he saw a perfume that definitely did not qualify as a small gift. He let the air out from between his lips, realizing that he actually really liked this brand. He glanced in Akira's direction and the proud smile on his face told him everything.
But after returning his eyes to Haru, he noticed that she was smiling too.
"Thanks. That's my favorite," he said. "I’ll return the favor, I assure you."
Whatever it was, it wasn't forgiveness. He wouldn't want it—and he knew very well that she wouldn't give it to him. But she gave him something much better.
"There's no need for that," she shook her head, the corners of her mouth invariably raised. "I'm just glad I managed to fit in with your taste. Well, with a little help, admittedly."
She winked in Akira's direction, who by this time was busy discussing something with Makoto—something he managed to fairly identify as related to their outfits. Snapped out of the conversation, he merely chuckled and rubbed his neck at which Goro crossed his arms over his own chest. His speculation that the boy was involved in it has now been completely confirmed.
In no time, the girls made their way to the living room. He glanced at them, then back at Akira.
"Stop with that," he muttered when Kurusu's hand found its way to rest on his shoulder. "I don't need any gifts from her."
"She asked me," he explained, running his fingertips through strands of Goro's hair. "I gave some suggestions. You know she wouldn't exclude you... No matter how you feel about it. She just wouldn’t buy anything fitting."
He sighed. "Maybe that would be better."
Akira smiled softly, sliding his fingers deeper into his hair. "Oh, honey..."
The next people came a little late, but at close intervals. Ryuji was first—dressed in a Papyrus costume from Undertale, which, by the way, he had never played personally. He just peeked over Futaba's shoulder once and decided that was it. Still on the threshold, Yusuke, whose characterization featured Sheik from Legend of Zelda, joined him. Although they weren't all completely together yet, his costume could easily be described as the best; which was actually to be expected of him. He always drew attention to the artistic aspects.
They managed to already close the door, but the knocking rang out again. Squeezed into a corridor that was far too narrow by the standards of this apartment, they greeted Sumire, who appeared in a red jumpsuit and a wide smile on her face. She was holding something in her hands that might resemble a round fish tank—Akechi wasn't sure what it was supposed to symbolize. However, after a moment it became clear that it was a helmet; a complement to the costume of a Pikmin recruit.
"I like the symbolism," Yusuke spoke up, touching his chin with his own fingers. "You've chosen characters that undeniably match you. All these parallels are now flickering before my eyes... Amazing."
Goro blinked. Without a doubt, Kitagawa was definitely looking at him and Akira.
"I don't quite know how to feel about the fact that I've just been compared to a... fictional hedgehog."
"See? I was right. Yusuke gets me," Akira smiled. "And you called me crazy."
"That's..."
"But it's seriously true!" Sumire interjected. "I recently started watching this new cartoon and they act just like you two. Especially from the time when... Uh, you know."
"I can't believe it," Goro sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. A couple of people laughed.
"Futaba even made us an assignment of all the characters on our groupchat!" she added quickly, with a pleased expression on her face.
"Shit, really? Who did she give me?" Ryuji asked with curiosity, immediately taking his phone out of his pocket.
With that, everyone sank back into conversation. Akechi sighed quietly, again remaining on the side. There was no point in getting involved—some of them hadn't seen each other in quite a while and wanted to at least catch up a bit. That was okay. That was fine.
Just as he was about to slip into the kitchen to pour himself some water, he felt someone gently tap him on the shoulder. After turning around, it turned out to be Yoshizawa.
"Hi, Goro-senpai," she said with a smile, slightly rocking back on her heels. He decided not to comment on the fact that she was still calling him that way. It was her thing, apparently. "Your costume is so soft and super cute... I love it!"
Sumire was a gentle soul. Her big eyes had been full of that childlike excitement ever since he could remember—she had never changed. And he had to admit that in recent months he had definitely become attached to her.
Sometimes they trained together when Akira happened to be busy. She was dealing with her things, he with his. That's how they found something that connected them. Even so, they didn't express it in words, but more through running and gymnastic exercises that both she and his boyfriend kept reminding him about.
You have to take care of yourself, they were saying. And this care completely melted him.
"You think so?" he raised an eyebrow. "Yours is... original. It looks like you put a lot of work into it."
She giggled. "Nah, it wasn't that bad. But thank you, I appreciate it."
Silence fell between them for a brief moment. Then the girl cleared her throat, nervously playing with her fingers.
"Can I... touch?" she asked uncertainly. "The costume, I mean. Like I said, it looks very soft."
Akechi raised his eyebrows, quite surprised by the question. He scrunched up his nose, wondering if he had anything to lose.
"...If you want."
Sumire smiled and took a step forward—but he didn't expect that instead of a simple rub on the shoulder, she would fully embrace him. In an instant, he tensed up all over, because physical contact was still a foreign concept to him; especially the good kind. Especially the one that wasn't offered to him by Akira.
"I missed you," she muttered, and only then did he realize he had been holding his breath. He let the air out with a swish from between his lips, slowly relaxing his shoulders. Still, he didn't know what to do with his hands.
"It's only been two weeks, Sumire." He replied, and the girl hugged him even tighter. It was... strange. But good. Yes, it was good.
"Does it really matter?"
And with the friendly innocence with which those words slipped out of her mouth, Goro could’ve sworn he wanted to cry.
Because... no. It really didn't matter.
From the message Futaba sent to Akira, it appeared that Sojiro was stuck in traffic, so she would end up with a longer delay than they initially thought. Consequently, they didn't wait any longer and sat down in the living room. Since they were still at the very beginning of the meeting, they indulged mostly in talking and occasionally eating something from the table. Meanwhile, Ann turned on the music on the television so that something would be playing in the background.
Goro tried not to glance in Akira's direction—but with his cheek propped up on his hand and his thoughts partially drifting along to the melody, it was hard for him to focus. He was so happy, surrounded by a whole circle of his friends. They were all laughing, patting him on the back and seemed to have an endless number of topics with which they could entertain him.
He swallowed, looking away. Whatever this sight aroused in him, it wasn't healthy. Akira had every right to have a good time in the company of others; the fact that he subconsciously wished that the way he smiled would be reserved only for him was entirely his problem. He promised himself that he would stop looking at it through that prism. After all, what made Akira happy should also make him happy. And so it was—he noticed it more and more often, even with the most nonsensical things that he would’ve once considered completely unnecessary.
With a small sigh, he squatted closer to them, greeted by the boy's smile and an arm that immediately embraced his shoulder.
Futaba's costume, who arrived eventually, could compete with Yusuke's. She chose Featherman Toucan—and Goro had to bite his lip, because, damn, hadn't he dreamed of doing a cosplay of any of these characters someday. However, he wasn't vocal about it; Kitagawa thankfully did it for him, delighted with the quality of the outfit. Then Morgana, who got dressed up to resemble Meowth from the Pokémon series, popped out of her bag, and a wave of laughter rippled through the apartment.
The party finally began correctly. They started with a board game for which, as it turned out, there were no instructions, so they had to make up their own rules. It was quite fun—at least for Goro—especially as it accompanied Ryuji's quick downfall.
As Makoto triumphed in her win, the cards went into action. Then Ann announced that she had to show them a new episode of a program about home renovations that she had recently been watching. To Akechi's surprise, he got quite into it, and thus hung up a couple of times when it was his turn.
Minutes passed and Goro grew more and more relaxed. He didn't expect it, but he supposed he could’ve given it a chance.
"Honey," he heard at one point and then saw Akira sitting next to him once again. "Makoto just told me that she bought a new car. I have to go check it out. I'll be back in a minute, ‘kay?"
Akechi looked at him with amusement, knowing full well that this minute wouldn’t be at all as brief as this term suggested.
"I won't pretend to understand your fascination with cars. You're so weird." he muttered, at which Kurusu rolled his eyes.
"Wait, Makoto has a new car?" Ryuji interjected. "For real?! I'm coming with you!"
Niijima's sigh at that moment expressed more than a thousand words. Still slightly amused, Goro glanced first at her and then back at the boy.
"Go ahead," he said, stirring the spoon in his glass. "I can take care of myself."
Akira smiled and moved closer to kiss him quickly on the cheek. "Try not to miss me too much."
With the warmth of his lips still pulsing against his cheek, he watched him walk away, once again swept up in a new conversation.
It wasn't long before he decided that he needed to get some air himself. Everyone he had in sight was busy with something else, so he quietly made his way towards the open balcony. It was quite large and nicely decorated, although he couldn't see all its aspects in the darkness.
And only after a while did he realize that he wasn't quite alone on it. Futaba, standing in the very corner with her fingers clenched on the railings, was looking straight at him. But when he returned the gaze, she immediately ducked her own back ahead.
Well, if that wasn't awkward.
Goro wasn't sure what phrase he should use to describe their relationship. He saw a hesitation in her every time they were left alone—and it didn't happen often. Well, actually only when Akira momentarily left the room where the three of them were staying at the moment. She visited them—or rather him—in the apartment, and sometimes they were the ones who came over to Sakura's house.
However, all this didn’t involve the development of any kind of bond between them. In the case of others, he could pretend otherwise. That they really didn't do all this just because of Akira. With Futaba, it was different, and he knew the perfect reason for it. They all knew.
"Having fun?" she asked, and this completely threw him off balance, because he definitely didn't expect any initiative on her part. In fact, he was already ready to back off and pretend it never happened.
But if it did—well, he decided to stand beside her.
"It's bearable," he said. "You?"
"Uh, c–cool."
And silence. He might’ve expected that.
Futaba lowered her head in such a way that her strands of hair completely prevented him from seeing the expression on her face. He supposed she wasn't very filled with joy.
"I know this may sound strange, but... I envy you. That you know how to live after all of this. I mean, at least try. I... probably wouldn't be able to."
Akechi let the air out from between his lips slowly. And he cleared his throat, again returning to a state in which he felt at least silly having such conversations in these outfits.
"What do you want to say by that?" he asked, patiently, even though his fingertips poked a little too hard into the railings.
"You killed my mom."
Ah. Of course.
"But I can't hate you," she added quickly, and the undeniable sincerity in her voice made him sick. "Because sometimes I think about how similar we are and it makes me want to cry. It's dumb, I know. But I can't stop—or rather, I’m unable to."
He stared straight ahead without saying a word, unsure of how he could contribute to the conversation. Futaba apparently wanted to spill out what was lying on her heart, and letting her do so was the least he could do for her.
"I'm afraid you'll take him away from me, too, just like you took her," she swallowed. "Akira, I mean. You make him so happy."
Akechi snorted. "You can have whatever opinion you want of me, but Akira—he would never leave you. Neither of you."
Futaba's shoulders lifted and now he could finally see her face and the crooked smile that had formed on it. "I know, I know he wouldn't do that," she mumbled. "But he doesn't see the world outside of you. And I'm just afraid that..."
"I'd never hurt him," he threw out finally, a little out of breath.
"But you already did."
"Never again."
Futaba was silent for another long moment. With a strand of red hair wrapped around her finger, she thought.
Finally, she turned completely around to face him and looked up to meet his eyes.
"Do you regret it?"
"What specifically?"
She sighed, all self-confidence flying completely out of her in an instant. She rubbed the root of her nose, and the silence surrounding them was so overwhelming that he was able to hear it.
And then he understood what she meant. At least that's what he thought.
"If you want to know," he mumbled, his gaze once again lingering ahead. "I delayed killing her for as long as I could. She was... my first."
"You were..."
"Fifteen," he finished for her, almost whispering. "I was fifteen."
He didn't know why, but when those words escaped his lips, he felt ill. The cold wind rubbed against him like blades, and Futaba covered her mouth with her own hand as the silence completely took them in its embrace.
Once again, there was no forgiveness hanging in the air. But there was an understanding that completely shattered him when the girl hesitantly touched his arm.
"Man, that was the best ride of my life," Ryuji smiled broadly as he walked along the corridor in the company of Makoto and Akira. That previously mentioned minute had indeed taken them a little too long. "We have to do it again."
Makoto sighed. "Please, no. Enough."
Akira just laughed under his breath, but when they found themselves back in the living room, he suddenly stood still and quickly silenced his friends.
"What?" Ryuji furrowed his eyebrows. "What's going on?"
"Oh, that's..."
On the couch, right within their line of sight, was Goro, completely immersed in playing on the console. There would've been nothing unusual about it, if it weren't for the fact that Futaba was sitting next to him with her head on his shoulder. She was sleeping.
Akira, amazed—though definitely happy—by this sight, remained in place long enough for Akechi to notice his presence.
And he only smiled in his direction, slowly raising his hand to place his pointing finger in front of his lips.
"Quiet," he muttered. "Don't wake her up."