Chapter Text
Art by theamazincactus
“It’s been so long since I’ve had a burger like this,” Goro said, unwrapping the Bigbang Junior he’d been craving for weeks. “You really know how to bring out the spontaneity in me!”
Kurusu was already half-finished with his Bigbang Double, devouring it with all the intention of someone who made a regular study of it. Goro did his best to make quick work of the rest of his burger so that he could switch to picking fries from the shared box in the center of the table.
When Kurusu didn’t say anything, Goro roved for a conversation topic. “Oh!” he said, pointing to the Destinyland advertisement printed on their paper placemats. “They’re finally opening Starworld Rise! It’s been ages since Destinyland has had a new dark ride.”
“Dark ride?” Kurusu said, reaching for a fry before Goro had the chance to reach for one at the same time and make it look like a coincidence.
“A dark ride is typically any indoor ride where your vehicle runs along a set, slow-moving track. There’s usually some sort of narrative or spectacle as you progress through the ride,” Goro reached for a fry at the same time Kurusu reached for a second, without quite letting their fingers brush, “with effects and audio cues when you reach certain points.”
“How dark are they?” Kurusu asked.
“That depends on the theme of the ride itself. Some are rather bright, using darkness only when it serves the narrative. This one should be rather dark. Starworld Rise is a clear reference to Descent to Starworld, a much earlier attraction. The vehicles would loop around in a large circle, trying to shoot at models of enemy ships as they moved in an out of view. The ships were prone to stalling out and the guns were prone to not registering hits, so it wasn’t open for very long before being stripped and replaced.”
“Did you ever go on it?”
Goro laughed. “No, no. That was back in the 1980s, when everyone was flinging money around like no one would ever have to pay the balance,” he said, and took a sip of his drink to wash down the edge that had slipped into his voice.
“Hm.” Kurusu inspected his placemat’s flyer. “I’ve never been to Destinyland.”
“Really?” Goro balked.
“I hadn’t even been to Tokyo before this year.”
Goro tended not to remember that Kurusu had grown up in the country. He moved so fluidly through the city that it seemed impossible for him to have ever lived anywhere but that dusty attic. “I would have thought you’d gone over the summer with your friends.”
Kurusu shrugged. “The beach is cheaper.”
Goro sipped his drink, mind working. “Hopefully you’ll be able to make it there soon.”
A few days later, and hopefully a few days before weekend plans had crystalized, Goro texted Kurusu.
Kurusu-san! Serendipitously, one of the officers I work with was going to take his daughter to Destinyland this weekend, but she’s come down with a cold. When I mentioned having a friend who’d never been, he passed the tickets to me! Would you be able to join me this Sunday?
Or should I invite a girl?
Haha, just a little joke.
yeah sure
what time
Goro sat up in the dark, staring at the screen. He hadn’t expected Kurusu to respond so quickly. Moreover, he was now forced to confront a truth he hadn’t had the forethought to anticipate.
If they wanted a good spot in line, to guarantee prompt entrance and optimal Quickpass reservations, they would have to arrive at the park no later than 7:00 in the morning, and wait for two hours until the gates opened at 9:00.
This might be the only day Goro could make it to the park before the seasonal desserts changed over to the winter selection. But how could he expect someone who had never even been to Destinyland to understand the imperative of arriving early and staying late, let alone someone with Kurusu’s perpetual bedhead? Goro wouldn’t be surprised if he slept in his school uniform to save time in the morning.
Goro typed out a response, erased it. Put the phone down on his bedspread and stood up to pace. Could it be he was underestimating Kurusu? Backing away from a chance to present him with a challenge, and watch him rise to meet it? He took up the phone again.
I was planning on arriving at 7:00AM.
Kurusu’s response was immediate. He was no coward.
ok
see you then
Goro dedicated the rest of the week to reading blog posts and watching ride-throughs in order do plot out the perfect park day. Kurusu had expressed interest in dark rides, and Goro was confident he could fill the day with them. As an added bonus, it would leave no time for coasters.
The plan:
1. Enter early, secure Quickpass reservations to Starworld Rise.
2. Walk directly to Tufty Town to show Kurusu the trackless Tufty’s Fluffy Holiday dark ride before the line became untenable.
3. Enjoy a photogenic breakfast at the Tufty Square Café.
4. Head to Ghost Chateau to ride Phantom Abbey and Lake Will-o-Wisp.
5. Lunch at Boo Bistro.
6. Return to Starworld for Starworld Rise and other attractions.
7. Finish in Cowboy Country. Kurusu was sure to be impressed by Cowboy Cookout’s coffee and curry, though Goro hadn’t tried it since he’d started going to Leblanc. Another dinner choice might be preferable. He noted that at that point in the day, he may have to improvise.
The night before the park day, Goro managed to get enough sleep, which was “some”. As he got out of bed to dress, it seemed unfair to wear memorabilia to the park when Kurusu had none of his own to showcase, so he opted for a plain, black jacket, hat, and face mask. He put his hair in a ponytail good measure—the last thing he needed was any curious gawkers approaching them in line to chat him up or chew him out for something he’d said on TV. For one day, Kurusu was going to belong to him, and he didn’t intend to let anyone waste a moment of it.
Goro arrived at 6:50AM, which was early enough to secure a place near the front of the budding line. Concerned that Kurusu may not be able to spot him in his disguise, he took a quick selfie and texted it to him.
I’ve arrived. Join me once you get off the train.
almost there
A few minutes passed. Goro kept his eyes trained on the station for Kurusu.
Beside him, someone said,
“Good morning, Akechi-kun.”
Goro locked the muscles of his neck to ensure it didn’t snap towards the voice too quickly.
Makoto Nijima—he hardly recognized her out of uniform—had materialized from nowhere, and he was so focused on contorting his expression into something pleasant that he almost didn’t notice the blondes—Takamaki and the other one—behind her.
“Morning!” Takamaki chimed, pulling her sunglasses onto her head. In lieu of her usual ponytails, she had her hair clipped back into a tight bun.
“‘Sup,” said the sulky one through an air of detached disgust.
“Good morning!” Goro’s mouth said. “What brings you all to Destinyland?”
They each looked at him a moment too long, the truth clicked into place, and Goro could hear what Nijima was about to say before she next opened her mouth.
“Did you not know we were coming, Akechi-kun?”
Goro’s mind had dedicated itself to stringing together inventive new chains of explicatives, but his mouth supplied a prompt, sensible response. “I… Well, I wasn’t certain. It seemed as if plans were still solidifying and I assumed no one but Kurusu would be willing to arrive at this hour.”
Nijima, for some reason, gave him an understanding smile. “It took some convincing, but I managed to get everyone on board. Tufty Square Café’s started requiring day-of reservations, and if you’re too far back in line, all the slots get filled.”
Respect tempered the storm in Goro’s mind by a few degrees. He’d been under the impression that Sae-san’s sister did nothing but sit pensively before an empty dinner table when she ran out of homework to do.
“When did they change Tufty Square Café to reservation only?” Goro asked.
“Just this season,” Nijima said. “It’d be fun to take everyone, but I don’t know if they’ll accept such a large group.”
Goro wasn’t sure he’d describe a group of five as “large”, unless—
“Hey,” a familiar baritone called. Goro’s head snapped towards Kurusu, to his infuriatingly stylish vintage Destinyland logo t-shirt, and finally to his apparent reason for being ten minutes late: Yusuke Kitagawa looming behind him, and a reclusive sliver of Futaba Sakura visible only through the crook of Kitagawa’s arm.
“Is Haru coming?” Kurusu asked Nijima.
Dear god. He’d invited everyone but the cat.
“She had an unexpected meeting this morning,” Nijima said, “but she said she’ll try to make it before noon.”
“Aww!” Takamaki lamented. “And after she paid for our tickets!” All of their tickets? “Can we save her place in line?” No. You could not just save a place in line.
“It’s not really allowed,” Nijima said, with a kindness that would have exhausted Goro’s cache of civility for an entire week.
It was the other blonde’s turn to aggravate him. “Akira, they added another round of drops on Haunted Heights. Wanna go?”
“Is that a dark ride?”
“Uhh.” He didn’t even know, he didn’t even know. “Like, it’s dark, but…”
Goro’s ears stopped working. All of his plans, everything he’d built up in his mind since he’d bought the tickets and sent Kurusu that invitation, obliterated.
But there was still time. Two hours until the gates opened. Two hours to figure out how to scatter Kurusu’s troupe of fools across the park and away from the two of them. It would take a miracle, but he wouldn’t be working alone. Tokyo Destinyland was the most miraculous place on earth.
He needed information. While the group prattled on, he got a better look at each of them. Nijima was wearing a MiftyPan purse he didn’t recognize. Possibly from an early Tufty collection—MiftyPan the panda was one of the first additions to the Tufty and Friends lineup. So Nijima, at least, was here to take this seriously. Perhaps he could nudge some of the others into joining in on whatever plans she had for the day.
“The rose parfait left in the spring,” Goro inserted somewhere into the ongoing conversation, pure instinct, “but there is a new lavender custard in Fairyworld.”
Takamaki and—Sakamoto, Sakamoto was his name, were both in walkable shoes, and Takamaki’s bun had to mean she intended to go on something fast, spinny, or both.
Goro answered another question. “They don’t sell full costumes until October, but character hoods are quite popular year-round.”
Sakamoto was an even easier read—he was wearing a shirt from Star Shooter, the fastest coaster in the park. Little worry of crossing paths with him and Takamaki, then.
“That’s still under construction,” Goro said in response to something else. “You might as well just go on the Jupiter Express.”
Kitagawa—god help him know what Kitagawa intended to do today. At least Sakura was—Goro nearly jumped as he realized she was suddenly standing next to him in Takamaki’s large red sunglasses and a plush MiftyPan character hood that had materialized out of seemingly nowhere. He did not ask.
And then there was Kurusu. Goro should have expected this from Kurusu. Obsessed with coddling his admirers in and out of the Metaverse, so needy for company that he literally toted his cat around—thank god the park didn’t allow pets.
That said, this was the first time Goro could remember Kurusu ignoring the clear implication of one of his invitations. The cafés, the aquarium, billiards and Jazz Jin—he’d come alone to every single one.
Or had Goro been the one to assume the implications had been clear? Was he losing ground with Kurusu? No longer able to command his attention? Had he already exhausted all his intrigue with his sensible conversation topics and demonstrations of peerless skill and taste? Would his troves of fascinating Destinyland trivia even be enough to win Kurusu back? What more would he have to offer if they didn’t? If only the waking world hadn’t shackled him to playing prince all day—if only he could shove Kurusu into the Metaverse and show him what he was really made of. Knock him to the ground and find out what that pretty face looked like with a sword pointed at it.
A bell chimed, and Goro’s hand flew to his holster—where his holster was supposed to be. Where was his gun?
“Finally!” Sakamoto groaned.
Goro snapped back to reality. His head whipped towards the gate. The clock—the clock said 9:00AM. When had—
“Need something before we go in?” Kurusu asked.
Goro pretended the hand at his hip was there to brush something off of his jacket. “No, not at all.”
“You kept looking at me like you wanted to say something.”
Goro gave him a prince’s smile. “Just that I hope you enjoy your first time in Destinyland.”