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When Sumire first met the real Akechi Goro, back when she still thought of herself as Kasumi, she thought he was a little odd, to say the least.
His shouts were feral, loud, mocking of the enemies he'd slayed. His remarks were scolding and his demands pushy, nothing like the polite, subtly inquiring Detective Prince she had met him as in her father's TV studio.
She didn't think much of it because Akira didn't – She thought of the boy as her senpai, someone she trusted without any kind of doubt and when she saw him fondly smiling at Akechi, well, she knew things would be okay.
And once in a while, she even caught Akechi smiling at him too, the gesture well-hidden but still recognisable behind his mask, the usually so threatening red eyes softening and always careful to make sure Akira wasn't looking, while forgetting about Sumire entirely.
He always seemed to forget about anyone else around Akira.
That's when she began to trust Akechi, really trust him. He turned out to be a good teacher, despite his... antics and it didn't take a lot to realise he used his metaverse form as a stress relief and his mask and costume as a way to live out his slightly wilder side and hide his vulnerable one from the world.
So when the Phantom Thieves came back and treated him like a black sheep in the midst of white ones – well it was odd, even odder than Akechi's behaviour, but she just assumed that they weren't as good at handling his... personality as Akira and Sumire were. She understood – felt a bit bad for him, maybe, once in a while, but ultimately she got why their friends had some trouble integrating him into the group.
Plus, there was the whole thing where he spoke up against the Phantom Thieves as the Detective Prince for months.
“Did you do it on purpose?” she asked him one day as they sat together in Leblanc with Akira, eating Sakura-san's wonderful curry. Sumire was just on her third filling, the fullness of her stomach making her comfortable enough to finally ask something that had been weighing on her for a while. “When you asked me about the Phantom Thieves in front of Senpai?”
Akira and Akechi shared a smirk that was so alike, it made her want to shake her head and tell them to kiss already.
Akira answered in Goro's stead.
“He so did.”
“What can I say?” Goro replied pleasantly – a pleasantness that felt like a loaded gun now that she knew what lay underneath. “Chaos is my speciality.”
And she understood then too, what had already been painfully apparent, the last puzzle piece finally falling into place: This was what Akira and Akechi liked to do. A constant game of push and pull, a challenge that was always alive between them. What may have offended anyone else in Akira's place had amused him instead, was just one more move he could counter with something equally chaotically beautiful.
So when, after everything, Akechi Goro returned from the dead and went straight up to Akira, kissing him as if his life depended on it (and was greeted with equal enthusiasm), Sumire found herself not the least bit surprised that she was the least surprised out of all the Phantom Thieves.
“You were jealous,” she chirped at Akechi the first quiet moment they got together.
And instead of snarling at her like the Phantom Thieves seemed to assume he would at any given moment, instead of hissing and threatening and yelling, he just gave her his special, meanest grin.
“Luckily for you, my jealousy was unfounded.”
Empty threats, Sumire learned very early, were Goro Akechi's love language.
The tension never really went away as time went by, even though many of the Phantom Thieves seemed to grow fonder of Akechi. Ann and he got fairly close. Ryuji and Akechi went running together. Yusuke valued his artistic opinions. Futaba fought with him about Featherman. Merely Makoto and Haru kept to themselves most times.
They met up for group outings and Goro tugged along, always by Akira's side, joking and flirting with him constantly in those sharp, mildly threatening remarks of his that never seemed to quite land with anyone else. He never changed that about himself and Sumire supposed that was fair – Akira certainly didn't seem to mind them.
Sumire didn't really either.
“You couldn't get me to wear those if you held a gun to my head,” he told Akira when he unpacked a Christmas Sweater with a 3D woollen duck beak popping out (the duck was wearing a Christmas hat), and the entire room had gone quiet, except for Akira's low, quickly dying chuckling.
“Oh sorry,” Akechi had said into the sudden silence, not looking sorry at all. “Too soon?”
Sumire couldn't say she always understood. The way people tensed around Akechi sometimes, the way they still reacted to some of his more murderous comments. They should be used to it by now, right?
She'd been invited to new year's dinner with Akechi and Akira after and had watched fondly as Akechi had absolutely worn the sweater and let out little fondly-exasperated sighs whenever Akira quacked from behind his hand.
“Did he have to hold a gun to your head?” she asked and Akechi had grinned at her, openly, without the usual strain he did around the other Phantom Thieves and said, “No, but he let me hold one to his.” and that was that.
As far as Sumire was concerned they were odd, but sweet.
The other Phantom Thieves however, seemed to just not click with their sense of humour...
“What do you think?” Ann asked one day as they all sat together on one of her countless celebrations for her latest successful modelling gig (all of them knew her constant parties were just excuses to get all of them together and eat as many crepes as she liked in the process, by now). “Mika says it works for me but there's always that one percent chance she's just saying that to watch my career fall apart. At least that's what Shiho says.”
She had tied her hair back to a tight ponytail, an unusual sight that left her forehead free.
“It's definitely something new,” she said between bites, then turned to Goro thoughtfully, “What do you think, Goro-senpai?”
“Mh,” Akechi said, looking utterly disinterested for reasons that probably had a lot to do with the tip of his toes being on Akira's knee underneath the table. “I say go for it – more forehead makes for a bigger target.”
Sumire genuinely thought that one was funny – at least creative as far as Akechi's murder-humour went. But no one but her and Akira laughed.
At least Akechi had given her one of his sharp grins and a wink – He probably appreciated someone other than his boyfriend sharing his humour.
The day Akira proposed in front of everyone came many years later, and while most Phantom Thieves had gotten a lot more comfortable around Akechi, there were still... some moments.
Akechi looked shocked at first, then almost scared, then his happiness finally bled through and he smiled at Akira with such heart-wrenching vulnerability, Sumire wasn't sure how anyone could look at him and still doubt the love he held for his partner.
When he finally accepted the ring around his finger and managed to stop staring at it every few seconds, letting it roll around his finger again and again, he still sat there, smiling somehow absent-mindedly and staring into nowhere.
It wasn't until they all said their goodbyes and the happy couple had gotten their repeated and last congratulations for the day, that he stood next to Akira and with a low voice, said, “Fucking wrap it up and take me home, now.”
Akira grinned flirtingly, forgot all about his conversation with Yusuke (and everything else) and turned to his partner immediately, asking, “Oh yeah? Or what, fiancé?”
And – no really, it was just them, it was how they flirted, why had everyone gotten so serious? - Akechi had replied with a saccharine, “I'll either be a husband or a widow, depending on how you behave.”
God, the way they all had stopped mid-movement, staring at Akechi, then at Akira. Haru looked ready to smash his face in – which seemed exceptionally like an overreaction when it happened out of concern for someone who merely grinned, took Akechi's hand and whispered “Till death do us apart.”
No one but Akira and Sumire even heard Akechi whisper back, “Death can try, I will kick its ass personally.”
It was sweet.
And still Futaba's fist was clenching around her phone so hard, Yusuke had to safe it and Makoto and Ryuji were slowly dragging away Haru, who looked about ready to jump the guy.
Sumire really didn't get it.
“I'd like for you to be my best man, if you don't mind,” Akechi told her over lunch a few months later. “Akira's picking Sakamoto and I- Well, I've been informed that apparently it is customary that I do choose a best man too but I don't have many male friends, so... How do you look in a suit?”
“Oh, that is such a fun idea and of course I would love to be your best man!” she clapped her hands together cheerfully, her heart and mind racing, already full of plans. “I could throw you a proper bachelor's party, if you like! I'm sure Ryuji is going to plan one for Akira!”
“I feel like that would be a rather depressing affair, actually,” Akechi said with a wry grin. “Most of them are going to want to attend Akira's instead – And I wouldn't want to deprive him of more of his friends if I don't absolutely have to. If we could just get a manicure together-”
“Done!” She beamed at him. “Maybe a Featherman marathon afterwards?”
She had never gotten into the show but she knew that Akechi liked it.
“Wonderful,” Akechi replied with his fanged grin. “At least that way, none of these idiots have to shudder in fear at the idea that I'd poison their drinks until the wedding.”
“It'd be hard to do then too,” she replied jokingly, a hand on her chin in a perfect imitation of his old Detective Prince pose. “Unless you want to poison everyone on the guest list including your husband.”
Akechi's grin had turned crooked and his eyes had gleamed.
“Sumire. Has anyone ever told you that you're spending too much time with me?”
“Oh yeah,” she replied cheerfully. “Makoto does all the time, actually.”
“Well, maybe instead of spiking the entire bowl, let's just poison her drink then.”
They had laughed then and talked about their upcoming manicure plans for the rest of the day. It was nice. Talking with Akechi was always nice – so unforced and easy in a way a lot of other interactions weren't.
She had always liked to be around him.
Ryuji's best man speech was sweet. It was full of anecdotes he really shouldn't share, got stomped on his foot on by Makoto for trying to share them anyway, then shared them anyway, much to everyone's mix of exasperated moans and amusement.
Akira, already lightly tipsy, just laughed harder and harder at every comment. Even Akechi couldn't help the grin growing on his face, his gloved hand loosely inside his husband's for the entire time.
“No, but really,” Ryuji was just saying. “Back then, we all were slowly getting behind the whole 'he's a deadly assassin who murdered two of our parents' thing.”
Wait.
What?
“Ryuji, for God's sake, at least lower your voice,” Makoto hissed, but Ryuji – also incredibly tipsy – ignored her.
“And we were all meeting in that stuffy little room wondering how to contact him and know what Akira said? Remember what he said, everyone?”
Akechi turned to Akira, who grinned back at him and kissed the tip of his nose softly, ignoring his husband's grimace.
“He said, 'I have his number, actually.'. Makoto was all like, trying to find out how to get his number from Sae without much of a fuzz and just like that. Our leader announced to the whole room of confused Phantom Thieves-” - “Ryuji!” Makoto sighed, tone completely exasperated now - “... that he had his number all along and apparently went on several dates with him behind our backs the entire time?”
“Morgana knew,” Akira informed him between laughters. “It wasn't behind your backs, I just... kept it for myself. You'd have made fun of me for being a nerd if you heard about our spicy aquarium dates.”
“I got tickets from a colle-”
“Ohhhh, you're really sticking to that story, honey?”
“Fuck you.”
“Do it yourself.”
“Oh I will.”
Sumire let it all wash over her, feeling oddly numb. Her suit suddenly felt a few sizes too small. She was glad that she had already done her best man speech, because the rest of Ryuji's passed by in such a blur, she wasn't sure she could get a single word together herself.
Assassin? Murderer? Akechi? But...
Everyone was celebrating into deep in the night – Yusuke and Futaba sat in their corner of the table, telling Haru about their new home together, Makoto was trying to get Ryuji to stop drinking his fifth glass of champagne, Ann had brought Shiho and was telling her a bunch of Phantom Thieves anecdotes Ryuji had left out. Morgana jumped from lap to lap, stealing everyone's food.
When Akechi had just gotten up to get more Sushi for him, she finally couldn't take it anymore.
She leaned over to Akira, a hand guarding her words from the rest of the world, as she whispered, “Akira-kun... what exactly did Ryuji mean when he said Akechi was some kind of assassin?”
Akira looked a little lost for a moment, his eyes widening as her words seemed to register, then a frown appeared on his face.
“Are you... serious?” he finally asked. “You don't know?”
“Don't know... what?” she asked, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.
“Sumire, it's- he's... Well, I guess no one did tell you, now that I think about it. There was just so much more important going on back then and well, it wasn't something I enjoyed bringing up at the time. Uhm...”
Akira rubbed the back of his head and then looked up in visible relief when Akechi returned to the table with two full plates of food, setting one down in front of his husband and the other in front of a very hungry cat.
“Honey – Sumire asked about you being an assassin. I think we kinda... forgot to tell her.”
“Oh, I know,” Akechi replied cheerfully, then turned to Sumire with a smirk. “I was wondering how long it would take you.”
Akira snorted lightly. “Of course you knew. Asshole.”
“Your asshole,” Akechi replied, eyelashes fluttering.
“Oh?” Akira replied sweetly. “So I get to top tonight?”
Morgana made a pained noise between bites and Sumire cleared her throat loudly.
“If we could get back to the murder accusations?”
“Ah, yes, of course,” Akechi told her pleasantly. “I was the one responsible for the mental shutdowns and psychotic breaks back in the Phantom Thieves days. I also was responsible for Okumura senior's death and the death of Futaba's mother. And I shot Akira in the head, technically, which some of them seem to take as an occasion to worry about his well-being quite a lot. They just don't know how to let go.”
“They mean well,” Akira told him with the tone of someone who had done so for at least a dozen times before.
“They don't want you with me,” Akechi replied with narrowed eyes.
“Doesn't matter,” Akira whispered and lifted their gently intertwined hands, rings gleaming in the candle-light. “Because you're with me, babe.”
Sumire froze, feeling hot and cold at the same time as the puzzle she had finished in her head all these years ago turned out to be an entire different picture from the one on the box.
“Oh,” she finally said.
Akechi nodded at her open distress politely, then turned back to Akira and said, so loud that everyone else on the table could hear him, “So, honey, now that we're married, there are a few life insurances I would like for you to sign.”
People all around the table got torn out of their cheerful conversations to face Akechi with thinly veiled horror and Sumire... Sumire understood them all a lot better now but still felt the odd urge to chuckle.
“You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?” she finally asked, voice lowered and Akechi gave her one of the smirks he always reserved for her, grins she now understood were him having a quiet joke with himself about her not knowing.
“Well, they're incredibly easy to rile up,” Goro replied. “And that's what they get for genuinely thinking I would murder my husband.” A quick smirk flashed over his face. “Not that they could stop me if I wanted to."
She thought about all that she had known before. Akira's fond smiles. The way Akira and Akechi seemed to just... play a game on another level than anyone else. The way she had firmly trusted Akechi because she had been able to tell that Akira did.
And she supposed, honestly, nothing had changed for her or them, except for a bit of outdated information.
“Oh yeah?” Akira asked Goro with that smile he always gave him when he forgot everyone else in the room but him. “Do you want me to sign them before or after honeymoon?”
“Now, that rather depends on how well you do on the knife-throwing show I have planned for us.”
No really, Sumire realised with a quiet giggle as the Phantom Thieves around them threw uncomfortable side-glances towards Goro and Akira.
She could move past this easier than she had thought.
“So...” she asked Akechi between bites, her fork pointing at him in accusations. “That time when we went to Karaoke and you sang 'Oops I did it again...' and Haru almost got thrown out...”
“One of my proudest moments,” Akechi beamed at her.
“And that time we went to Dome Town together and you made jokes about throwing Akira out of rollercoasters all day long...”
“Can you believe how worried they all were?” Akechi chuckled.
“And that time Ryuji backed away everytime you came out of your kitchen with a sharp knife, and you seemed utterly oblivious and just did it several times that day...?”
“That last time, when I raised my hand a little and he almost ran over Akira with the coffee? Gold.”
Sumire looked at Akira who smiled at Akechi with that same smitten look he always wore and this time, she finally understood for real.
“You're a piece of shit,” she told him and then glanced at Akira, whose grin was widening. “And you're into it.”
“So into it,” he confirmed and Akechi laughed loudly.
“Sumire. I think you really spend too much time with me – but I couldn't be prouder.”
That night Sumire learned something the other Phantom Thieves had known for a really long time.
A lot of things made sense to her now.
Akechi and Akira going home hand in hand, chattering and smiling and pushing each other for the entire way, though - that remained the thing that made the most sense to her.