yuuki mishima likes goro akechi— likes him progressively more, in fact, with time elapsed. it's over time that the carefully constructed, cultivated veneer which akechi armors and obscures himself with lapses too. subtle imperfections come close though they're never allowed to breach the surface, veins of obsidian in the body of a gold mine, and mishima is captivated by the contrast.those that akechi is ill-prepared for are the most enlightening moments of all – mishima does wonder if he manages to surprise him only because the prodigal detective doesn't expect very much, but can't fault him for it, if so, unextraordinary as he is ... but regardless; akechi is at his most guarded under the hot glare of a studio track and in interviews reveals exactly the information he intends to, not one iota greater and absolutely nothing of substance. granted, as his acquaintance (he thinks of him privately as a friend when he's feeling particularly optimistic), mishima finds more value in akechi's personal quirks than the dozen tv stations that broadcast his face to boost their ratings. the manufactured personality is to be admired, but only from afar, and no more familiar than to the professional extent required for cracking jokes.before mishima met him, he'd been smitten, as intended. perspective had suddenly divorced the entity of tv akechi from his physical counterpart and placed it squarely into an uncanny valley, and mishima couldn't recall afterward what had once so charmed him about the affect; that of a mannequin with handsome features, as attainable as he was really ... real. the mass appeal curated by the version of akechi that unsettles him now, though, whose empty smile is made up of miniscule pixels, is undeniable. as mishima's overheard his classmates state it plain: for the prince's heart, competition is stiff.how many of akechi's fans remain, with steadfast devotion, as the popularity of the phantom thieves rises with an indicated polarity to akechi's own? a very small part of mishima vindictive on behalf of his idols wouldn't mind telling him that he'd started the the fire and fanned its flames himself but that's neither true nor fair, and he expects akechi's probably heard or read it before. mishima remembers him saying ... something, once, implicating an awareness of the online chatter about him. mishima won't pretend that the canceled specials and guest appearances haven't been a boon to their budding relationship, though he sympathizes with akechi's feeling of being unwelcome wherever he goes. ... hell, he's only hanging out with akechi now because a handful of hours from his busy schedule once dedicated to something or someone else have fallen through.would even akechi's die-hard supporters continue to soldier on if they were to witness one of those rare occasions that ugliness contorts his pretty face? in breaking out of a role that could be performed honorably by a loaf of white bread– behavior less universally palatable, when he neglects to censor himself for the sake of onlooking cameras, he defies their expectations. those seeking to protect idealized versions of akechi might turn their backs on the real one. that ... relieves mishima somewhat, and as uncharacteristically cruel as it sounds, it's a shocking admission even to himself. unlike schadenfreude, his pleasure stems from the confirmation that despite his fame-turned-infamy, akechi is all too human.he's human, not a symbol. his negative traits don't, could never outweigh those mishima perceives as his good. akechi shouldn't have to go to the lengths he does to suppress them, but yuuki has an inkling of why he might. most importantly, as the issue at the forefront of his mind right now (and all the time, lately), to act upon the affection he harbors for akechi would not make akechi profane, because he already is– because he's just a person ... and there is no such thing as a perfect person. akechi may be imperfect, then, but all that that really means to mishima is that he can reach out to and touch him without committing sacrilege.but none of that – the long-winded explanation and its validating conclusion never ascend past mishima's unconscious where they're processed. instead, when he looks across the table seating two and sees goro, whose expression is slightly sour, he throws some electric impulse to his brain. having lost the thread of whatever arbitrary conversation they'd been having as soon as he laid eyes on akechi (whatever the topic is, anyway, it's just an excuse for two outsiders to seek companionship), if he had to guess, mishima thinks he must have said something pretty stupid, and now akechi is preparing to deliver a suitable retort. with little bias toward either polite disagreement or hurtful condescension akechi looks ready to choose his next words, and at the same moment, mishima's brain fires off a response to his earlier query; go for it.abruptly mishima stands, straightened legs pushing out the chair that makes a harsh noise when its legs scrape the floor, but the sound is one he barely registers, so caught up in the moment. he braces himself on one palm and leans across the table, his other hand moving to cup one side of goro's face and his own face coming close enough for goro to feel breath on his skin (it's warm and smells like strawberries and chocolate, something shared between them, mutual). he hovers, for a fraction of a second with eyes narrow from concentration before his parted lips zero in on the space where he'd spotted a fleck of whipped cream on akechi's chin. it's not quite a kiss, though his cupid's bow briefly greets the flesh of akechi's mouth itself while the tip of mishima's tongue finds the remnant of a vanished dessert, and claims it. his eyelashes tickle the other boy's cheek before he withdraws, from all fronts, and yuuki all but collapses back into his chair before he thinks to explain.❞... you had crepe on your face.❞
