i think i uploaded this once and deleted it on accident because i thought i published the wrong thing. but then i forgot about this and never reuploaded. just now found it in google docs, and cleaned it up a little bit and decided to throw it here because why not.

this was written in november 2017, before akira was officially ren so he's akira in this and i truly do not feel like changing it eklajfsa

title comes from "i think you were in my profile picture once" by modern baseball.

i.

Goro Akechi has never owned much. To be fair, however, he's never really needed much, at least in his own mind. His apartment is mostly empty; it's small and clean, very restrained in what decorates the house itself, but then again, he's not really home often enough to make it his own.

However, in the corner of his bedroom, near the edge of his bed, he keeps a dusty stack of old detective novels. Anyone that he's read and particularly liked stays in his room, the others are returned to whatever library they came from or sold or donated to some odds and ends, on the corner of the street bookstores he's come across. Goro admits most of them are mediocre, hot piles of garbage typed and put together in something that can barely be considered a novel, but there are some he quite enjoys, even if they're as bad as the other books aforementioned.

They are something of a guilty pleasure, but it's these novels that teach him how to be a cocky detective who still has compassion for people and the law, or whatever sappy message the writer is trying to portray. Most of them have some disappointing, underlying romantic plot and loathe as Goro is to admit it, he really does enjoy crime fiction novels, especially if they have those cliche romance plotlines.

Much as he hates to admit it, he enjoys the detective characters in the books, whether they're the protagonist or not. He enjoys reading and knowing that they know everything about the case chapters before anyone else has the slightest clue about what's going on. In a way, Goro can relate. (Except for the fact that just about everything involving his own cases are staged and sewn together extremely delicately. But no one knows about that, so he is free to pretend that he's similar to fictional detectives all he wishes.)

In fact, it's fun to channel that kind of pretentious intelligence when he is around the phantom thieves. To play the coy fool, let them explain their secret world to him as he excels in everything they do while fighting beside them. He is sure some of them aside from Joker notice it, but he can feel Joker's unease. Joker knows that Goro knows so much more than he lets on, yet he fails to suspect him of any wrongdoing because, despite the flimsy layer of conditional trust the thieves have with Goro, there's enough trust that they can be manipulated with it.

It's something he excels at - manipulation, that is. For some reason, though, he feels himself caring about the way the Thieves feel about him, and not so his plan works.

Especially when it comes to Joker.

Goro has known for months that his feelings were something more than platonic or even the feeling of interest he sometimes has when it comes to having an interesting target. It bothers him just how much he subconsciously begs for both Akira and Joker's approval and trust. He wants so desperately to understand how the other man feels about him, but for all the wrong reasons. For selfish reasons.

These kinds of feelings are a threat to everything. They affect everything.

And the very first time he feels Joker's eyes on him, eerily glancing at his teammate from behind his white mask in a clear haze of suspicion (Goro - Crow, rather, knows that Joker is probably discovering that he's far too competent to have only just discovered his powers), Goro feels no connection to the intimidating intelligence of those detectives from his stack of guilty pleasure novels. Instead, he feels much, much closer to an incompetent sidekick, or the character the detective never trusted, not even at the beginning of the story.

And for some reason he can't explain, it hurts.

ii.

Outside of the Metaverse, there aren't any of those glances that make Goro feel those... rather unfortunate feelings.

Then again, Akira Kurusu is very different than his mask-wearing persona. They are the same amount of intimidating and unreadable, but aside from that, the differences are vast. Facades are easy to keep up when you've had enough practice - this is a fact Goro knows well - and by this point in time, Akira plays the role of Joker all too well. Quiet students with bad reputations will never be rebellious phantom thieves, no matter how convincing the facade (Goro's mind rings out yeah, well, murderers will never be real detectives, either).

After all, if Joker really was just another side of Akira, then how is it, Goro wonders, that in the Metaverse, Joker is capable of ripping away the enemies' masks and reveal their true forms with ease and elegance, but in the real world, Akira cannot rip away Goro's amicable nature and reveal him for what he really is? Perhaps it's because Goro has gotten too good at playing his role (and if that's true, then he deserves an award, at this point) or perhaps it's because Goro has underestimated Akira, who knows the truth and does nothing about it.

Honestly, Goro doesn't know which is worse.

Feelings have never been his strong suit, least of all when it comes to Akira. Goro's only ever been familiar with rage and a desire for vengeance. This infatuation, the unease and hurt and fear that he feels are things he doesn't know how to deal with. In all of his lines of work, feelings are meant to be squashed like a bug, or otherwise repressed enough that they won't get in the way of anything. He knows that the rest of the world doesn't see in that way, that they value and revel in being open and honest with themselves and their peers. But all of that is so very hard to do when you're lying to every single person you know, including yourself.

Still, much as he loathes acting on any feelings, it is hard to stop when it comes to the other man. But he's so magnetic, and that's not just some shitty excuse like the ones Goro uses when he wants to pretend he hasn't been staring at Akira. He leads a group of wildly different people who might have never interacted had it not been for Akira.

Sometimes he wonders if he should move past the wistful staring and stealing glances he's become so fond of. That with all the time he spends stewing over whether or not he should approach Akira at the station he should instead spend time stewing over if he should make a move or not.

But for Goro it's always been the same shit, different day. He fears making a move and getting too entangled, but as early November seems to rapidly pass them by and the time when he must betray the thieves draws ever nearer, he considers going for it.

There's not enough time left to get caught up in feelings, which means he's got nothing to lose. He could have this one thing, get one of those romantic scenes like those that the detectives in his favorite novels get, just for the sake of experiencing something he's never going to have otherwise. The only thing left to do is gather up the nerve to do it.

iii.

When it comes to Goro, though, it seems he only gathers the courage days before he has to go through with something. It's the same as the earlier targets that Shido had had him kill. Despite everything, those first few times, his trigger finger faltered, scared to take the shot. He had been weak, something of a prude, and he swore that he would never be that person anymore. (And, for all intents and purposes, he no longer was. He didn't falter when he took his fatal shots, now. But his hands did still shake sometimes when the time to end lives came, as apparently his body refused to get used to taking out targets, and it bothered him to no end.)

The fact remained that his lack of courage and initiative reminded him of his earlier self. Weak. Useless. Someone who needed to grow up and just take the shot, without any screw ups this time.

...Which is how he finds himself standing around, very awkwardly, after one of their last meetings before they send out the calling card.

The curtains on the window are just barely opened, and yet moonlight streams in just so it can set itself perfectly on Akira. Despite all the strenuous physical work they do, there's nothing on Akira's body or face that would even clue you into his secret identity. He seems to always look picture ready. If any crazy paparazzi photographer or desperate fan showed up, Akira wouldn't even be close to looking bad in the resulting picture. In hindsight, that would be more inspiring if Goro wasn't so concerned with the fact that he thought his target always looked perfect.

It's just. The unmarred skin, the way his hair falls onto his face, the way the moonlight hits him. Everything about this is a setup from a scene of a particular noir romance he'd read. And Goro wants a scene to erupt right here. He wants to kiss Akira, here under the moonlight, break the line of tension between their shared gaze, dig his hands into the other's boy's hair - just like the scenes from his most favorite mediocre novels (the ones criticized for focusing too heavily on the romance and not enough on the mystery, when they're classified as being in the mystery genre).

But after the scene ends, Goro wants to kill him. Put on his black mask and shoot him in cold blood, killing both the boy and whatever tragically cliche feelings he has for Akira as casually as cleaning out the dirt from under your fingernails.

Goro knows this isn't the time for that, though, no matter how appealing kissing the problem and then cleanly getting rid of it sounds right now. Especially when he finally realizes that while he was daydreaming, Akira caught him staring. If this had been any other situation, he would have looked away, but this was his last chance to have something of substance before the day when he kills Akira comes.

Akira says nothing, sizing him up silently from behind his glasses, as he always does. This isn't the first time he's caught Goro staring (and, alternatively, it's not the first time Goro has caught Akira staring back), but it's the first time they've been alone... or mostly alone, anyway. Morgana's gaze is piercing, and Goro knows that Morgana might be the only one who trusts Goro as far as he can throw him. And as he's a cat, that's not very far at all.

Morgana and Akira seem to have a staring contest, until Morgana sighs, stretches and leaves the room. Whatever went down between them is something Goro could never even begin to have any hope of understanding. Regardless, the fact that Morgana left served as a hint that Akira wanted to be truly alone with him. It made him nervous, which was rather infuriating, considering his plan from the get-go was to get the other boy alone with him.

The silence is deafening. There is an unspoken, unquestionable line of tension between them, and Goro desperately wants to break it, but he doesn't quite know how. He's unsure of what to do, suddenly unsure of everything around him. It even feels as if even the way he positions his body, the angle of it, the way he shifts his weight, is all questionable. All his years of practicing how to behave in any kind of situation while keeping up a jovial facade seem to fly out the window. This is a situation he just doesn't know how to handle. He wonders if Akira can sense it, feel his companion's unusual unease and inability to take initiative.

"The day when we send the calling card is coming up soon, isn't it?" Akira asks, clearly as uncomfortable and unsure of how to clear the air as Goro is. When Goro responds with an affirmative grunt, Akira continues. "It feels like this month's gone by so fast."

"Sad that the Phantom Thieves will be over sooner rather than later?" Goro asks, a smirk on his features. He's teasing, a bit cruel and he definitely pressed one of Akira's buttons with that one, but Goro knows that mean little quips that are all made in good fun, like that one, aren't necessarily out of character for him (or his carefully crafted media persona, anyway).

Akira doesn't respond. With the distance, Goro can't see the look in his eyes behind his glasses. He wonders if he perhaps went a bit too far.

"Do you ever think about what you're going to do, once it's all over?" he asks, looking to Akira for any sort of knee-jerk reaction. The other boy just hums, lost in the thought of his future. Somewhere deep down, Goro feels gross for asking that question when he already knows that anything Akira answers with will never happen.

"Well, once the school year's up, I'll be heading home," he starts, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, "It'll be weird, going back, but otherwise everything will go back to normal. So, no, I don't really think much about it."

Goro wonders what it's like to not have to plan out every single inch of your life. "A luxury I only wish I could share with you," he replies, knowing that Akira will only ever think he speaks of his dealings with the public and of his job as a detective, and not of the plans for revenge branded into Goro's brain from a young age.

"I promise it's not as interesting as it sounds," Akira says, a slight smile adorning his features. Oh. The moonlight is still framing him way too well, making him look like something straight out of a dream. The smile and the way Goro can tell that said smile has reached Akira's eyes just made it ten times worse.

Goro feels his heart start to beat faster. He feels silly and embarrassed and something in his stomach is fluttering. He turns away, worried that his stupid, uncontrollable emotions have made their way to his face.

"The last train is running soon. I... I should head out."

iv.

It's a pathetic, spur of the moment excuse, but it works well enough and lets him successfully escape from his rampant emotions and being confronted with something (one) he desired being right in front of him.

Akira had shrugged, had been mildly concerned, but walked him downstairs anyway. If he'd figured out what's going on with Goro, he said nothing. Goro knew it was most likely because Akira knew better than to say anything, because, for one, he was pretty good at reading the mood during any given situation, and two, for fuck's sake, could Goro have been any more painfully fucking obvious? The more he thought about it (which bordered dangerously close to overthinking, considering their short trek downstairs), the more he just felt like he had fucked everything up. (And it was a feeling Goro was definitely familiar with.)

He looked around for Morgana, wondering if he was going to pop out of his hiding spot and say something snide. What he wasn't expecting, however, was to be taken off guard and shoved against the wall. The next thing he knew, Akira was kissing him. Relentlessly pressing his lips upon Goro's, who was already out of breath thanks to the grand romantic gesture of being shoved so suddenly.

Still, he thinks as he digs his fingers into the other boy's dark hair, sudden acts like this are a rather provocative trope used in those novels of his. And now, after having experienced it, he can see why. He wants to bring Akira closer to him, although he's sure that's impossible. And the kiss? Well, it's far from perfect, their teeth chattering together, noses brushing together, but all of that makes it well... perfect.

He feels light and fluttery. Giddy, even. All in all, he's feeling something he's never felt before, drunk on positive emotions. It's refreshing, and then all of a sudden, it's alarming.

There are only a few days left until they steal Sae's heart. That gross feeling he had felt before, when he asked Akira about his future, he started feeling it again. For a moment, he imagined keeping this happy feeling for himself, keeping the boy alive when he knew his orders were otherwise. Orders he had to follow if he wanted his own plans to ever see the light of day.

With the way Akira was moving his mouth moved against his, though, he was sure he could be convinced to keep the other boy alive. But thoughts like those only served to infuriate Goro even more. He wanted to kill Akira as much as he wanted to keep kissing him. And none of his novels had ever helped him figure out how to deal with a situation like this. Not even the ones where the love interest was the criminal all along.

When they finally pulled apart, Akira mumbling something about how he didn't want Goro to miss the last train, Goro realized that this was the closest he would ever be to the boy, face to face, eyes and emotions exposed completely for the other to see. For too long, their attraction to one another had gone on without anything of major relevance happening. Goro was glad, at least, that that had changed tonight.

But that didn't change the fact that Goro Akechi was no fictional detective who gets the guy. He had learned a long time ago to stop pretending like any feelings he had ever harbored for anyone would amount to something apart from tragedy and that shitty feeling in the pit of his stomach. After all, by this time in a few days, Akira Kurusu would be dead.

v.

The next (and only other) time they were that close, with eye contact and no hiding of emotions, they were in the investigation room, where Goro was pointing a gun at his forehead.

"I bet this never happened in any of those novels of yours, huh?"

He has no idea who says it, if he's thinking out loud or if Akira is taunting him, having known about his guilty pleasure. Either way, he starts feeling that gross feeling build up in his stomach again, and then an angry flare of desire to get rid of everything. He pulls the trigger with no remorse, hoping that he kills off both the boy and his feelings for him for good.

(Only after the shot rings out and the gross feeling comes back full force can Goro finally put a name to it: guilt.)