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Another Tuesday night, another live performer at Jazz Jin. He’s been working here steadily for the past two years. Bartending both here and at Crossroads makes good money. Even if Tuesdays are family nights here— so no alcohol is served— he still makes his regular salary.
Muhen still owns the place, Ren’s pretty sure he’d rather die than retire. He used to ask about Akechi, and Ren would make up an excuse. It didn’t take long for Muhen to get the hint that they weren’t close anymore. He never had the heart to say that Akechi… How do you tell someone that he died? Would Muhen be upset that there wasn’t a funeral? Or a gravestone to visit? Ren thinks he would be.
He wouldn’t have remembered Ren if he didn’t remember Akechi. He’s remembered the two of them for the last 7 years. It’s comforting to know that someone else cares. But he can’t say anything. Ren thinks Muhen somehow knows anyway.
“Table 6 wants two mocktails, whatever you recommend. It’s a man and his young son.” Imai-chan scribbles this down on a ticket and hands it to him. He gets that horrible nostalgic feeling. It doesn’t happen as much anymore, it’s just a table, but it was theirs once.
His eyes move to the table, in one chair is a man in his 20’s, who at first glance resembles the man who is supposed to sit there. Long chestnut hair, pulled into a high ponytail with hair framing his face, a beige trench coat, sensible shoes… It’s impossible, further impossible by the young boy sat with him.
Ren isn’t that good at guessing kid’s ages. He’s over five… and under ten(?) It doesn’t help that they’re several tables away.
He wouldn’t normally make this for a young kid, it’s got bitters in it so it’s not normally to their taste but… Maybe it’s the brainless sentimentality but he makes Akechi’s favorite drink, a Hibiscus Sour, for both of them. He adds extra simple syrup to the kids, and a silly straw to it too.
As Ren prepares the mocktails, he can't help but feel… He’s not even sure really. The sight of the man who resembles Akechi brings back memories of the boy taking him here. Akechi had always loved the music and colorful drinks, and Ren remembers how he used to order for the both of them with a playful smile…
As he sets the two drinks on a tray motions Imai-chan over. “For table 6. It’s Hibiscus Sour. A little doctored up for the kid.” She thanks him and walks it over. He watches with rapt attention as she serves the drinks. The young boy is very polite, giving a wide smile to his server. Imai bows and leaves them to their drinks.
The singer doesn’t start for another 15 minutes but most people are seated by now. The flood of orders keeps his mind occupied, even if he steals a glance or two at table six amidst it.
&
“What kind of club is this?” Aren asks, a pang of familiar sweeps through Goro at the words. He laughs and shakes his head.
“I told you, it’s a jazz club. Would I take you anywhere uncouth?” He asks his son. The boy gives him a skeptical look, but takes Goro’s hand and goes down the steps to the club’s entrance.
There’s a sign made with a retired trumpet, in the entry “Jazz Jin”, just like he remembered it.
“You said you used to come here a lot?” Aren asks. “Why did you stop?” Kids are full of questions at this age, but sometimes Aren asks the ones that are hardest to answer.
“Well, I moved away from Tokyo when I adopted you.” He answers plainly. He moved to Okinawa, he wanted to be far away from his past life, it just happened that on the way to leave the city he stumbled upon a seven month old baby completely abandoned in the streets. The rest is history he supposes.
“Right, because you said you needed to say sorry to some people?” Aren asks again.
“Yes, my therapist told me I should make amends with former acquaintances for my misgivings and frankly, disappearance from their lives. I came here so frequently as a teenager that I befriended the owner. Then I stopped coming all of the sudden…”
“If you were just a kid, he must have been worried about you.” Aren says. Goro nods. They move up in line and the hostess greets them. A bubbly young lady, who grabs a few menus before searching for a table to seat them at on her chart.
“Ah, if it’s not too much trouble, is table six available?” He asks. She looks up at him, her eyes searching for something before she nods.
“Sorry, not many people request tables like that. It’s open!” She walks them there, but he already knows the way. She leaves them with drink menus and tells them their server will be with them shortly.
“Is it different from how you remember?” Aren asks.
“More people work here, and some decor is new but… It feels similar.” He smiles. “I used to come here with a friend of mine, and he’d let me order drinks for us. We’d sit at this exact table and talk for ages.” Goro tells his son. Aren lights up.
“You had friends?” He asks, and while he wishes he could feel insulted he really has no place to be.
“Just the one really.” Goro answers.
“What was his name? Do you remember?” How could he forget?
“Amamiya-kun.” He answers, though before he can continue their server swings by.
“Hello! I’m Imai, can I get you two something to drink?” She asks. Aren looks at him expectantly. Something pulls at Goro to take a risk.
“We will take whatever non-alcoholic cocktails the bartender recommends.” She jots something down then heads to the bar.
“I thought you’d order for us, like you did with your friend.” Aren complains lightly.
“Maybe for the next round.” He says with a laugh, ruffling the boy's hair. “How have you liked Tokyo so far?” Goro asks. Aren responds with excitement, talking about his favorite parts of their trip.
“Dad? Are we here to see your friend, Amamiya-san, too?” He asks. Goro is thankfully saved by the server returning with their drinks.
She hands off one to Aren first, he thanks her like he’s taught him. The pinkish drink is set down in front of him; it feels like traveling back in time.
“I hope you like this, it’s my favorite and I thought since you just came back from Hawaii…” He can hear himself saying. It hurts a little in his chest, in that place he had really hoped to keep locked away.
“Thank you.” He tells her. She goes to her next table and his eyes go back to the drink. It’s served the same way it always was, which is silly because it’s not even really on the menu…
“Dad?” Aren calls to him. “Are you okay?” He asks. Goro tries to smile, he tries to be strong. His therapist told him it wasn’t healthy to do that. That it’s important for his son to see him show emotions. Somehow that makes it harder.
Goro takes a sip of his drink, processing his thoughts for as long as he can before he speaks. Aren is eight years old, they’ve had similar talks before, haven’t they? Not quite so personal about Goro’s life but…
“I just realized that he wasn’t just my friend.” He straightens back up. “I loved him. That’s why I took him here, and to the aquarium and to the arcade like I did. I wanted him in my life. Then I pushed him away.” He sighs, letting out the steam that was bubbling in him. “The music is about to start, we can talk more after, okay?” Aren nods, and fixes his attention to the stage.
Goro watches Aren sip his drink happily and sway to the inviting music of the blues singer. The music carries them in peace for the next hour. The singer effortlessly captures the room with her soulful voice, each note resonating in his chest.
Goro immerses himself in the enchanting sounds, letting himself transport to another time. Back when he wasn’t who he wanted to be, but with the only person who saw him for… him .
The same boy who begged him to come hang out here on a random weeknight in January. The same boy he had thought he killed two months prior. The one he gave his life for. If he’d ever put more thought into this, he’d have realized his feelings sooner.
Before he knows it, the lights are coming back up, signaling the end of the performance. His eyes adjust to the light and he finds Aren looking at him expectantly. Ah. It’s usually only a 50/50 chance the boy would forget something like this.
“So are we going to find your friend?” He asks, prompting Goro.
“It’s sort of moot. Last I heard he’d gotten engaged to a friend of his, by now they’re probably married and have a few kids… I’d like to be happy for him.” There's a distraught look in his son’s eye, one he hates to see, so he continues. “Besides, I chose my own happiness with you, Aren.”
“If he can have love and children, why couldn’t you?” He asks plainly. In that sweet way children do that makes life seem so simple.
“Oh please! Don’t you remember when I attempted dating last year? Some people aren’t meant for that.” He laughs. Aren laughs too.
“I can’t believe you thought you could try to cook for him.” He snorts. “You nearly burned down the condo.”
“Don’t remind me. I’ll get cooking lessons if we move out here, sound good?” He teases. Aren rolls his eyes playfully and sips his drink.
“Hello! Imai-san asked me to check in with you on the drinks?” A familiar voice, says. “Well she asked the bartender but I volunteered when I heard this table had been requested.” Goro turns to see Muhen.
He’s still sporting that old hat, but he’s lost the dark sunglasses. Goro can see the smile lines all over his face, and the man’s eyes are misty with tears. Goro stands up and quickly squished into a hug.
“I’m so sorry.” He says into Muhen’s shoulder.
“Hey, I’m just happy to see you.” When they part, Muhen’s attention is on Aren. “Who’s this handsome little guy?”
“This is Aren, my son.” Goro introduces. Muhen raises an eyebrow and looks between them.
“I never thought my little Akechi-kun would be a father. Is he good to you? Do you want a grandfather?” He asks. Aren giggles.
“You’re even funnier than dad said you were.” Goro rolls his eyes, glad he was able to raise a little charmer. “He’s probably the best dad in the world. And yeah. You can be my grandfather. We were just talking about how my dad sucks at dating, do you know any single—”
“Aren!” He chastises lightly.
“I mean… My bartender is single and has been looking over at you the whole night.” Muhen glances over his shoulder and Goro follows his eyes to the tall, muscular man mixing a drink. He's turned the other way, so he can’t see his face, but from this angle he’s easy on the eyes.
“Let’s get another round of drinks! He can bring them to the table this time, right?” Aren smiles mischievously.
“Muhen, I promise he isn’t always like this…” Goro starts, but Muhen raises a hand and waves him off.
“Your boy wants you to be happy, it’s pretty sweet if you ask me. I’ll go get a special drink order put in for you.” Muhen winks, and goes back to the bar.
“That’s not what this trip is about, Aren!” Goro scolds lightly, a sour expression on his face.
“You said it’s for forgiveness and making amends, can’t you forgive yourself too?” For one small moment he wishes he hadn’t put Aren in therapy too. He thinks better of it though, the boy is extremely well adjusted, nothing like Goro was at his age. Or any age really.
“Can you at least pretend to be an ordinary eight year old when he comes by? I understand I’ve raised a menace but play a little dumb if you want this to work out.” He teases.
“I’ll go ask the hostess for some crayons.” Aren says snarkily before walking off. Goro tuts at him but allows him to go. He checks his work email in the meantime, before Aren can reprimand him for doing so on vacation.
“I’ve got two citrus-ginger spritzers, courtesy of Muhen.” A man says as he approaches the table. One of which is set down in front of Aren’s chair, and the other in front of Goro. He looks up from his phone to thank the man, remembering he’s supposed to at least feign interest for the sake of Aren. The whole world stops spinning before he’s able to even do that.
“Amamiya?” He squawks. He’s older, of course he is, he is in his mid-twenties now. He’s taller, and has a sharper jawline and the tiniest bit of stubble and—
“You— you’re alive?” Is all the man says. What else is there to say?
“It would seem so.” His mouth is dry but he’s too stunned to do anything about it.
“Dad! She gave me a pack for you too!” Aren interrupts thankfully, and hands him a pack of crayons and a little coloring page with a trumpet mascot.
“Thank you.” He responds. His brain is trying to reboot.
“I’m Aren! This is my dad! He’s friends with Muhen!” Aren provides helpfully.
“You… you’re a dad?” Amamiya asks. He’s obviously bewildered but there’s something else that he can’t name.
“Yeah, Aren, this is my old friend, Amamiya-kun.” Goro introduces, his voice more stilted than he intended. Aren either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
“The one you were just talking about? The one that was engaged?” Aren says. Goro resists the urge to cover the boys mouth.
“How did you know about that?”Amamiya asks with a disbelieving grin.
“Sae-san told me, she had heard from her sister.” Goro explains.
“Makoto knows—”
“No!” He corrects. “Sae is the only one and I swore her to secrecy.”
“You’re not wearing a ring.” Aren points out. Goro’s eyes dart to Amamiya’s hand, finding his junior detective is right.
“It didn’t work out. Ann is married now though.” Amamiya says with a small smile. “What about your dad? Should I ask about that?”
“My mom died.”
“Oh, I’m so—”
“Aren, we don’t need to mislead my friend.” Goro interrupts. “Both of Aren’s parents died. I adopted him. Though admittedly I was married briefly to an older woman to help the adoption process as it’s impossible to adopt as a single person in this country. She got companionship in her last two years, and I got her estate and the ability to adopt. Not as tragic as you would imagine.”
“Akechi that’s so messed up.” Amamiya says, but the smile on his face is fond, a smile he’s dearly missed.
“Would you expect any less from me?” He asks, smiling back coyly. “Listen. It’s getting late and I need to get Aren back to our hotel room but…” He reaches into his coat pocket and grabs his debit card and a business card. “The bank card is for the drinks. I’m not taking handouts.”
Goro flips the business card over and grabs the red crayon from the pack and writes down his number. “I want to make things up to you. Think about how I can make at least some amends to you, and reach out.” Amamiya takes the cards and inspects his business card.
“You’re CFO of a company based in Okinawa?” He seems skeptical but impressed.
“I have been doing well for myself. I see a therapist, work 50 hours a week but still go to all of Aren’s sports practices.”
“I like your name Aren, it’s cute.” Amamiya smiles. Goro’s heart clenches. He looks at Aren, and knows what he’s about to say.
“Dad named me! It means love and lotus! Dad said he named me after the most important person in the world.” He needs to stop being so sentimental with Aren. Amamiya can’t be fooled, he already looks disgustingly touched by this.
“What a coincidence! My name is Ren!” Aren’s eyes get big and he looks at Goro, then back to Amamiya and… Goro will never regret raising him for the last eight years but he is about to regret some of his parenting choices isn’t he?
“I’m going to go see my new grandfather, good luck Dad!” And with that Aren leaves him to his fate. It’s better than it could have been, he supposes.
“He seems like a good kid.” Amamiya says as he walks away.
“He is. I knew what not to do.” Goro responds, Amamiya smiles softly and steps closer.
“I thought of something you could do to make amends.” Amamiya says, twisting his bangs between his fingers like he always did when he was nervous.
“I told you that you could take your time to think of it.” Goro resists the urge to hold his breath. “No need to rush.” Amamiya takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting Goro's vulnerability with a hopeful sparkle. The man steps even closer, fully in Goro’s space now, close enough to touch. Close enough that if he leaned in a little further…
"I've had almost eight years to think about it, Akechi. And I've come to a decision." He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Let me take you on a date."
Without thinking, Goro leans in and kisses Amamiya quickly, their lips meeting in a tender embrace. It’s selfish, he knows it. Goro wanted to feel this. They’re both smiling into the kiss, making it all the more sweet. Goro's heart pounds in his chest when he pulls away. He looks into Amamiya's eyes, seeing surprise and warmth reflected back at him.
"Amamiya-kun, have you forgotten that I attempted to murder you? Twice, in fact," Goro allows himself to be a little vulnerable. Amamiya's expression softens, his fingers gently brushing against Goro's cheek.
"I remember. And yet, I'm asking anyway," he replies, his voice steady. "Let me take you on a date." He never thought he would… Goro knows deep down that he wants to take this chance, to mend what was broken and build something new. It’s just…
“I’m only visiting right now. Aren and I are planning to move here before he goes into 4th grade. I can’t just go on a date right now.” He laments. This is met with a kiss on the cheek.
“Bring him. I can keep it PG.” Amamiya tells him. “He’s important to you, so I’d like to get to know him too. If you want that.” He feels tears welling up in his eyes.
“You never stopped doing that, did you? Being perfect all the time.” He groans, and Amamiya laughs.
“I’m far from it. Just ask Ann.” He laughs. “I’m a blanket hog apparently.” He rolls his eyes while a smile and loops his hands around Goro’s waist.
“Hmmm. I’ll have to ask her about all of your flaws sometime. Maybe after our date.” Goro tells him.
“I’ll ask Aren about yours so it’s even.” Amamiya teases.
“I’ve missed you, Ren.” Goro admits.
“I’ve missed you too, Goro.” Ren answers.
Goro and Aren leave Jazz Jin 20 minutes later when Ren gets off his shift. Muhen makes Goro promise to come back soon, and pinky swear in front of Aren too.
Ren promises to show him and Aren to the best takoyaki stand in all of Kichjoji, and he’s sure to recount the story of the spicy red one from the Shujin school festival.
It feels so perfectly natural for Ren to be there with the two of them. It’s entirely domestic, something Goro never pictured he would be. It’s messy and weird and perfect.
Goro supposes this is that found family thing that he’d always hoped for. It’s not quite as large as Amamiya’s— though Goro isn’t sure he’d like to have all of Tokyo in his business anyway— but maybe it’s enough.