（♡） 01. — Her Wildcard, His Confidant
Chapter 1: The Confrontation— AO3 — Chapter 0 / Chapter 2
Summary: After Ren Amamiya's behavior at school catches your eye, you decide to look into him and his friend group, which leads to you accidentally getting wrapped up in the cultural phenomenon that is the phantom thieves. Is it possible to stay steadfast in your loyalty to your team as well as steadfast in your loyalty to Goro Akechi?
(Fic is based off of the idea of what would happen if Akechi managed to trust someone enough to acquire a confidant of his own.)
Warnings: toxic relationship (it's Akechi), slow burn, Goro Akechi X female reader
" Amamiya-san, right? Sorry- I wanted to talk to you about something after school. Would you mind meeting me by the gates when we get let out? "
It was almost too easy. Well- not that getting Amamiya-san to agree to speak to you after school was the hard part. When you were just watching him from a distance, he gave off the impression that he was calm, cool, and collected. Not exactly suave, but give him a couple more years to grow into himself, take off those chunky glasses, and change him out of his school uniform? You could see him getting somewhere.
The guy that stood in front of you now, though… Was different from what you had imagined him to be. When you had asked him to meet with you, he was obviously going to be surprised that a girl who had never spoken to him, let alone spoken in class at all since he had transferred, was asking to hang out with him after school. After you posed the question, though, he almost seemed bashful? Shifting the weight of the bag that was slung over his shoulder, he took a second to process what you were asking before awkwardly agreeing. Now, he was at the school's gate, standing in front of you, and looking somewhere between apprehensive and friendly. You had never noticed how tall he was, but with that height did not come any hint of body fat or muscle tone. He was scrawny- lanky, with a mop of dark hair atop his head, his oversized glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, prompting him to take a moment to readjust them as he looked down at you.
Taking a deep breath, your fingers wrapped around the straps of your backpack as they rested atop your shoulders, " I'm not going to beat around the bush. "
Amamiya-san cleared his throat, stuffing his knobby hands into the pockets of his blazer, almost seeming like he was trying to keep his cool, " …Okay? "
" I know you and your friends sent Kamoshida the calling card. " Your voice is confident, the corners of your mouth almost curling into a smile; you were excited, but did your best not to come off that way.
A long pause. For a moment, the boy just looks stunned. You can see the metaphorical cogs turning in his brain, and before long, you're met with what you can only assume is a faux-look of confusion: " I have no idea what you're talking about. "
" No, Im pretty sure you do " you retort, " In the hallway, when the card was posted, before Kamoshida came in! You and your friends were all talking about how you guys wrote it, I heard it. At first, you know, I thought it was some dumb stunt- "
As you're talking, Amamiya-san very rudely begins walking away from you and towards the subway station. In response, you start after him, having to work a little harder to match his pace, " Hey! As I was saying, I thought it was a stunt, but then Mr. Kamoshida- "
He turns to you, not seeming annoyed, but certainly bewildered. The words that come out of his mouth are sharp, " I don't even know you, let alone your name, and you're tossing these crazy accusations at me! "
In a huff, you cross your arms, gazing at him as you try to piece together how you're going to get to talk to you about this in your head, "I'm (----), and it's very nice to meet you. Now, about this business involving the Phantom Thieves— "
The mission? Unsuccessful. After what felt like an endless barrage of poking, prodding, and near-begging for information on what happened with Mr. Kamoshida, the only new knowledge you walked away with was the sneaking suspicion that Amamiya-san did not want to talk about these 'Phantom Thieves of Hearts' at all. It definitely would have been better to wait until you had an actual plan and concrete evidence before you confronted him, but you had the instincts of a journalist, not a detective! Or at the very least, you had the instincts of a girl who absolutely loathed waiting for something she was ready to uncover now.
It had been about a week since your conversation with Amamiya-san, and it felt like during school hours, he spent the majority of his time steering clear of you. Last night, you gave in to the urge to do some light digging on him. School records listed his guardian's name (Sojiro Sakura), his guardian's phone number, and his home address. Upon a closer look, Amamiya-san's place of residence just so happened to be a… Coffee shop? Curiouser and curiouser.
Although you were apprehensive about potentially making yourself look absolutely unhinged by showing up to this poor guy's home, there wasn't anything wrong about visiting a coffee shop. This is why, when you push open the front door to Leblanc, accompanied by the chime of the door's bell, you are fueled by just as much audacity as you were the week before.
You're greeted by an older fellow, likely the shop's owner, " A Shujin student? You must be one of Ren's friends. Here- have a seat, I'll go get him. "
And so you did just that. The old man came down the stairs after he had gone up to the second floor (presumably to retrieve your not-so-little friend) accompanied shortly after by Amamiya-san, who does not seem very enthusiastic that the friend who had come to visit was actually the girl who demanded he confess to being a phantom thief.
" Well, I've got some things to attend to back at the house, so I'm gonna see myself out. Ren, close up shop, behave yourself, and don't forget to walk the girl back to the station if it gets dark, got it? "
" You're in my house. " He sounds astonished.
" Your house looks a lot like a coffee shop. "
That line gets you the briefest ghost of a smile, " Touche. "
"I'm not here to rat on you, you know (...) It was obvious what that guy was doing. I'm honestly just fascinated- there are some facts in life you can't change. The fact that powerful men like that get away with whatever they'd like, without consequence- well, it's something that definitely can't be changed or avoided. For him at least, and for a lot of our peers, you changed that. "
You're both awkwardly silent. It's uncomfortable for him, but purposeful on your part. The intense eye contact you're both sharing is broken when the cutest little tuxedo cat hops up on the table the two of you are sitting at. It lets out a string of meows as it faces Amamiya-san before you let your hand fall atop its head to give it some scritches, the feline then intently rubbing its noggin all over your hand, wrist, and arm before chittering a bit more. It was almost as if it was trying to communicate something, but to you, the behavior seemed like that of a pleasantly talkative kitty. To your surprise, Amamiya-san lets out a labored sigh and breaks the silence,
" Fine? " There's a twinkle in your eyes, along with a lilt of intrigue in your voice.
" I did it. We did, I mean- we're, uh… Yeah, me and my friends, we're the phantom thieves. "
God, it's so satisfying to be right. Mentally, you're doing a little happy dance. Physically, a wide smile breaks across your face as you slam your hand on the table, startling the cat, " I knew it! I knew it! "
After briefly reveling in your victory, you lean back in your seat, " Now tell me everything. How'd you do it? Did you threaten him? Extort him, like with blackmail? Those are the only possibilities I was able to come up with, but for you… I don't know, they seem a little far-fetched. "
He seems a bit lost for words as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, casting his gaze downwards, " I'm not exactly sure how to explain it to you… "
It was frustrating, but in spite of the confirmation of the fact that he was indeed a phantom thief, Amamiya-san seemed unable to explain how he brought about the sudden shift in behavior in Kamoshida. He did, however, after you pleaded with him for about twenty minutes to just spit it out, agree to bring you to meet his friends and 'show you how they change people's hearts'. Whatever that means. Part of you wondered if this was all an elaborate plan to either 1) send you on a wild goose chase in order to procrastinate telling you the truth and placate you until you get bored (you won't) or 2) jump you for knowing too much about his ragtag gang of misfits.
Despite your mind being heavy with thought, you still had a job you had to clock in for tonight. After such an eventful evening, the thought of showing up to work might make a person working an average part-time job grimace, but your place of occupation was thankfully your own personal home away from home.
Jazz Jin was technically a club, although it did lack the atmosphere one would assume a typical club would have. The low lighting, the ambience provided by the live music, and the way the patrons understood how crucial it was to keep the vibes inside mellow; these were all things that made the establishment an oasis in a vast desert of places you absolutely would loathe to work within. From the moment you set foot in the jazz club, you knew you wanted to work there, and after several days of stopping by and begging the owner to give you a position, you found yourself employed. Very quickly, when you were at your job, it became the very few and far between instances within your week in which you would come out of your shell, mingling with the customers, making nice with your boss and other employees. Now you stood behind the bar, wiping down the counter with a wet rag as you awaited your next order.
It's not long before you're met with a familiar face; a man whose chestnut colored hair tapered off just below his chin, donning his typical combo of a suit and tie covered up haphazardly by a well-tailored trench coat, his hands concealed by a pair of leather gloves. Sometimes you couldnt help but wonder how on Earth the regular perched atop the bar stool in front of you managed to survive in the progressive heat that came with the seasons transitioning from winter to spring. Despite his peculiarities, he was always polite when he stopped by, tipped you well, and participated in some light banter with you when your shifts were going slower than usual. Allowing a pleasant smile to fall over your face, you draped the rag over your shoulder as you began to speak,
" My favorite repeat customer! Now, Akechi-san, are you planning on asking me for something random this time, or are you in the mood for your favorite?"
