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Dusk cooled Leblanc until the heat of early fall came to a distinct end. Across the bar, Akira worked to finish a cup of coffee for themself. They’d already prepared Goro a final drink for the evening, despite the boy’s insistence otherwise. Energy surged through him as unpleasant electrical pinpricks to his fingertips. Caffeine was an unfortunate necessity and coffee was the rare salve, but it didn’t change the physical effects of too much within a single day.
But to flatly refuse would be the same as losing.
He sipped at his drink. The flavor profile was supposed to be fruity and bright, but to his poorly developed palate, it was bitterness all the way down. Thankfully, the rich voice of his barista drew his attention away from the beloathed coffee.
“I just found out something interesting,” Akira started. It was too conversational. They leaned over the counter, mouth hidden behind their mug as they drank long and deep
“What would that be?” Goro asked, recognizing the call-and-response being asked of him.
A cheshire grin stretched itself across their face. “I’m being stalked.”
Goro hummed and swiveled the coffee in his cup, watching the way the liquid lapped along the porcelain sides. He imagined watching Akira drown within it and withheld a smile.
“Are you quite sure?” he asked, hiding behind his own cup.
“Oh, yeah,” said Akira, altogether too upbeat for the declaration.
Leg bouncing in an unheard rhythm beneath the counter, Goro said, “It’s an easy thing for paranoia to influence one’s perspectives. I’d say that the chances of someone in your position actively being stalked is rather low.”
“You’d really think so,” left their mouth as an almost-giggle.
“You certainly aren’t acting like a typical victim of stalking, either,” he added. “Much of the time it’s rather emotionally taxing.” His eyes closed as he took an unwilling sip. “I’ve seen more than one witness unable to speak from the fear it brought them in their day-to-day life. If you’re joking, it may be best to leave the matter here.”
“Well, when you say it like that,” said Akira.
They spun around and dragged their cat-hair ridden bag from a stool, reaching in to pull out an envelope. There was something written on the manila side, but their haste made it impossible to make out. In the next instant, a small pile of photographs sat on the counter between them. With a single gloved finger, Goro pushed the pictures around to parse their contents.
“Every single one of these includes you.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d ask if you were a detective,” Akira snickered.
They made it profoundly difficult to maintain an easy set to his face. “I recognize that I’m repeating what you already declared to be the case. I simply admit now that I do find it… interesting. To say the least.”
Akira’s attention seemed more on the pictures than on Goro. He imagined grabbing them by the chin, drawing their attention back regardless of their will. Putting the thought aside, he asked, “Do you need help?”
“Dunno.” They pressed a finger to the corner of a photograph and spun it in a light circle. It pictured Akira in Shinjuku, their arm around the shoulders of a blond woman with a fortune telling table before her. “I thought I’d ask someone for advice, y’know?”
“And that would mean me.”
Leaning down, Akira’s cheek pressed flat against the countertop. There was too much ease to every one of their movements as they stood like a languid scrawl of a human being. Goro could dig his fingers into their hair and scrape down the back of their scalp before slamming their skull into the wooden bar. They acted so unguarded—as if there was nothing to fear in the hellscape that was Tokyo.
“Well,” they started. “If you had any thoughts on where to start, that’d be cool.”
“There are a great deal of questions you could ask, depending on your goal,” said Goro. “Do you want to understand who is stalking you? Or would you like to understand why you’re being stalked?” He made a show of glancing toward Leblanc’s glass doorway. “I assume you already understand the how.”
“Where would you start?”
“Me? If I were to be stalked, I would assume it was because of my status as a celebrity. To be frank, I’ve had a few false starts here and there where it seemed someone might be doing just that.” He laughed, brushing away the glint in Akira’s eyes like it was nothing. “Of course, nothing came of it.”
“Right.”
“If I look at your situation, I am unsure as to whether someone would be inclined to stalk you, however. Unless there’s some grand secret of yours and they’re intending to blackmail you.”
Their mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Really?” Goro asked.
“Kidding.”
“My, my. We won’t get much of anywhere if all you have to tell are jokes,” he sighed. “I simply point out the truth. It’s strange that someone would select an average high schooler to stalk. These pictures are evidently of you, but they seem to all feature various adults. Is there any reason you might think they would take pictures like these?”
“Yeah,” Akira said.
“But you’re not going to tell me, are you?”
The ghost turned into a smirk. “Got it in one.”
“If you want help, there’s not very much I can do so long as you’re unwilling to unload, as it were.”
His finger tapped that of a man with a gecko tattoo along his neck. Akira’s gaze dropped to follow his movements, from that of a model weapon’s shop to an image of them leaving a drag bar with a woman so drunk that it was evident even through a still image.
“Who are these people,” Goro deadpanned.
“Some pals,” said Akira. “A couple of galpals, even.”
“You don’t seem very inclined to take this seriously.”
Akira paused and shuffled through the pile until landing upon a specific image of themself next to a woman dressed up in a sexualized maid uniform.
“She’s being bothered because of the stalking stuff,” they said. “I can deal with it, but she can’t.”
“Isn’t that an adult woman?” Goro made a show of picking up the picture and taking a closer look. The outfit was ugly and cheap. He didn’t have an ounce of compassion for the woman pictured therein. But he didn’t need to. Putting down the photo, he asked, “What about this situation is something that she can’t handle when you, apparently, can?”
Akira shrugged. “It doesn’t get to me. I don’t think there’s anything this person can really use against me.” They leaned forward over the bar, propped up on both elbows as they held their face between their hands. “I mean, if they did, then I don’t think we’d be able to talk right now. Would we?”
Goro kept their gaze and gave a light laugh. “I suppose that’s logical in its own way. But that does make it sound as though there’s something that can be used against this woman.”
“She’s my teacher,” they answered, easy as breathing. “She could get into a lot of trouble at her school if they found out she was working this side job. I just want to make sure she doesn’t get fired.”
“How magnanimous of you.” Goro tilted his head. “Some might say something improper was happening under the table. Is that truly the only reason you want to aid her?”
“Yep,” said Akira with soft pop. “You willing to help or no?”
Finishing his drink, Goro set down the cup and smiled at Akira. “Of course. Provided you maintain your services here, at least.”
“I think I can manage that fee.”
“Excellent,” Goro said. “I’ll ensure the culprit is brought to justice and that your teacher is no longer troubled by this matter.”
“Justice?”
The word came out with a chilly edge. All movement in the room ceased as the two processed it, neither willing to acknowledge Akira’s sharp rejection. Goro broke the icy silence.
“Surely you expect a stalker to face appropriate punishment with the law,” he said.
Akira fixed him with a long look. They were communicating too much in doing so, but they didn't seem to care to stop. Finally, they shrugged. Instead of sharing what they actually thought, Akira said, “Long as they stop, I don’t really care what happens to them.”
Goro’s eyes narrowed. “A stalker isn’t going to stop just because I happened to ask nicely. Most people require real consequences before they consider stopping their abuses of justice.”
The frozen atmosphere of only moments prior evaporated. They shifted back to their low posture, free of the concerns Goro had about the world. They acted like it was all so easy. Like none of it would matter as long as he listened to them and they to him.
“Maybe I just believe in you,” Akira said with a flash of a grin. “The Detective Prince can get this stalker to see the errors of their ways without a jail sentence is what I think.”
“You live in a fantasy.”
Too honest, too brutal, but it was too late to take back the words. Goro let them hang in the air, expecting some recoil or discomfort. The Prince didn't talk like that. But he received no catharsis for his trouble. Akira simply took his cup and waltzed away to wash the night’s final dishes.
“It’s called having faith in people,” they said. There had to be a smile on their face, infuriating as it would have been gorgeous. “Give it a shot.”
Their long limbs stretched as they put the clean cups where they belonged; as they pushed the night’s coffee beans back into place; as they danced around the room to sweep and cultivate a space for tomorrow. Akira’s hair practically bounced with each movement, rustling in its birdnest way, and Goro watched all the same. It was a trick of the light, meant to put him in a trance and forget who he was, where he was, what he needed to be.
So he closed his eyes to the illusion and stood. “I’ll see what I can do. Would you mind if I took these pictures as evidence?”
“Sure, you do you,” Akira called back.
“Excellent. I’ll speak to you again soon.”
The photographs went back into the manila envelope from which Akira had poured them. The manila envelope went into his briefcase. His briefcase went into his hand, held tight across the entire train ride home. Gloved hands unlocked the front door and gently closed it behind him. The clasp opened and the manila envelope went into the fire-safe trash.
It made him insane. Akira was being stalked and, rather than bother asking for help, requested that Goro fix the problem for someone else entirely. Magnanimous was the wrong word. Moronic would have been better. He supposed it made the plan easier.
The only disappointing thing was that he couldn’t burn the evidence himself without risking setting off the smoke alarms. Watching Akira’s face curl into ash would have been the next best thing.
—
Akira leaned over Goro’s back and wrapped their arms around his shoulders. He drank a glass of milk tea, one of the few things Akira could prepare that the man seemed to actually enjoy.
“Having fun with your current case?” they asked.
“It’s a stalking,” Goro said. “I’d rather eat rocks.”
“But you’re great at that. Remember when we were teens?”
Goro shot them a withering look.
“Mr. I spent all that time investigating the people around you to set you up.”
Akira pinched his cheek and hopped away before Goro could deliver worse in return. The man massaged his temples and sighed.
Goro answered, “You weren’t supposed to figure it out.”
“Bullshit,” Akira called gleefully. “You wanted me to figure it out. You wouldn’t have stopped stalking Sadayo otherwise! Making a one-sided game is too boring. You'd never do that.”
“Could you please not refer to your old teacher by her given name? It’s unsettling.”
Chuckling, Akira spent their time in silence preparing themself breakfast for the morning. They made space for themself at the cluttered table, getting crumbs on the paperwork he'd spread across it.
“I don't know why you didn't bother to call me out,” he said. “It was obvious you knew it had to be me.”
“Yeah, not a lot of other people woulda been so good at it,” they replied, mouth half-full of toast. His face crumpled at the sight and Akira winked. “‘Sides, calling you out directly was boring. It’s more fun to see if you’d come clean instead.”
“I would never,” he said.
Their expression softened to a grotesque extent. “Yeah. I know.”
“I expected you to push back further,” Akechi adds. “That’s all.”
Their arms stretch over the back of his seat until their cheek is flush against his own. The sensation of their warmth makes him shudder as their breath tickles his skin.
“You had your reasons,” they hummed. “I always thought it was interesting. You being so jealous about the adults I spent time with.”
“I wasn’t jealous. I was concerned.”
He can practically feel their smirk curl against him. “Let’s be honest. You were disgusted with me for cozying up to so many people.”
“Perhaps,” comes out as half a growl.
“Especially Sa–da–yo.”
“Kawakami,” he corrected.
“Whatever you say, honey.”
With that, they moved to lift away, but Goro grabbed their arms and held them in place. Leaning back into them, pulling their arms close around his body, he closed his eyes.
“I’ll admit I hated her. But she was no more than another terrible victim you associated yourself with,” he said. “Another wretched adult unable to help themself or change their circumstances.”
“But you did,” they murmured. “You changed hers. Without having to change a heart.”
“Yes. Well. I had power neither of you held in your own rights. It’s easy to cow pathetic people like the family threatening her given appropriate legal channels.”
“Come on. You were bluffing.”
He scoffed. “Be that as it may. I didn’t stalk you or any of your confidants for fun. And I take no pleasure in seeing anyone else commit the crime, either.”
“I dunno,” said Akira. “I thought it was pretty de–light–ful.” They burrowed their chin into his shoulder and kissed the side of his neck, making him shudder. “Knowing you were so obsessed with me.”
“Shush. You’re doing no more than embarrassing yourself now.”
“Maybe I enjoy it,” they practically sang. “Maybe I’m having a great time right now.”
“You would.”
“Either way,” they whispered. “It’s nice to know I had so much of your attention.”
Goro turned his head and drew them into an ugly kiss. “Of course you did. I despised you.”
“Love you too,” they grinned, and pulled him into a soft kiss of their own.