Chapter Text
Akira was probably a step away from death's doors and definitely not in his right mind at all. A part of him wondered if this was just a hallucination, or some sort of side effect from a drug-induced psychosis, because there was absolutely no chance that this was real.
It had not even been 5 minutes since Akira had crashed onto his bed, throbbing headache and broken ribs and all, when his phone lit up. Making a small ding! sound with each new notification.
"Jeez, that's a lot of messages..." Morgana commented from his spot beside Akira's head. He was worriedly looking between the phone that made six more little noises, and Akira, who appeared more dead than ever. Ironic.
At first, he ignored it. Surely whoever so urgently needed Akira Kurusu at eleven in the evening could wait a few more minutes? He was a bit busy, y'know, being dead. That was until the notifications stopped, and in some twisted sort of reverse psychology, the sudden lack of background noise made him want to actually check his phone.
Maybe it was the Phantom Thieves. Futaba or Kasumi or simply someone checking if he was still actually alive, and that their plan hadn't miserably failed the moment he entered the interrogation room. Although, if his mind were a bit clearer, Akira would've probably realised that his friends would have definitely called him by now, instead of leaving him alone like the present moment.
With a groan, Akira got up from his spot on his bed. Nearly flopping back down as a sharp pain permeated through his chest; Those damn police did a number on him.
"Careful!" Morgana got up from his spot and put a paw over his own hand. Almost as if he were trying to assist Akira up. (or assist him back down to sleep, knowing Mona.)
He made a small noise, and gathered the strength to push himself up, finding himself sitting with a hand over his chest and breathing heavily. God, they really did beat him up. Every breath he took felt like he was rearranging his bone structure inside his own chest.
No matter. It'll heal. Maybe he can ask Takemi tomorrow. For now, he had a pending issue in the form of a silent phone a foot away from him.
Reaching over, Akira grabbed his phone. Morgana decidedly sat on his lap when Akira straightened his posture, and together they went to check on who the hell was trying to message a dead teenager at nearly midnight.
In hindsight, he thanked whatever god there was that he never turned on read receipts. That he kept his online status invisible in an eternal state of being mysterious. If he had not done that, he might've flunked this entire mission.
Goro Akechi: I found myself opening up this chat, about to ask you if you would be interested in joining me in Jazz Jin tomorrow.
Goro Akechi: Hahah, isn't it a bit silly?
Goro Akechi: I had even considered asking if you could tonight, ironic as it is.
Akira felt his heart stop before realising he stopped breathing. Subconsciously, he started petting Mona, who seemed to be reading at the same time with an expression that screamed upset.
Why was Akechi texting him? What was the point? He was dead. Akechi knew he was dead. Was rather cheery about the fact as well.
His brain was screaming at him to stop reading, to ignore the messages, to mute the chat before he finds himself reminiscing and spiralling over the "could'ves" and "would'ves". But, as is always with this man it seems, Akira didn't listen to his rationale. He scrolled further down to see the rest of the messages.
Goro Akechi: Me texting you like this is futile. As if you could ever respond back. Maybe it's for the better. Perhaps, deep down, that's what I'm trying to achieve with... This. You were always a good listener, so much so that people had taken advantage of that damned "goodwill".
Goro Akechi: I despise that about you. Your stupid attitude. How it seemingly comes so natural as opposed to I. The way you charmed so many people into actually caring for you in less time than even a sixteenth of how long it took me to do the same. Why? Why are you so much better than me?
Goro Akechi: Yet... The one thing I beat you in was living. The last thing I'd ever want to win. How could you die first? How could you leave me? Are you mocking me in heaven?
Reading those messages, Akira frowned.
"Isn't he the one who killed you in the first place!?" Morgana voiced his exact thoughts.
Not only that, but was this really how Akechi saw him? He was somewhat aware of the jealousy, but it's like Akechi had crafted a perfect version of Akira in his own head. One that he despised.
Or maybe that was Akira's fault for planting the seeds. Acting confident and cocky even when he was not. If he had begged for his life, would Akechi have acted differently?
Goro Akechi: Maybe you're staring down at me with the same expression as when I pulled a gun to your head. Are you happy? Did you have fun? Was it me who lost our shitty battle in the end, or you?
That was far from the truth, Akira couldn't help but comment in his head. He was anything but happy at how things turned out.
Morgana looked up at Akira, and if he could see his own face, he probably would've understood the growing worry on the cat's expression.
"What's wrong?" Akira asked. Tilting his head and watching as more of his hair fell in front of his eyes, obscuring his vision a little. Morgana shook his head, and opened his mouth until he was interrupted by another notification.
Goro Akechi: I fucking hate you. So much so that even now, I can't stand the thought of you. I despise the way you act. I don't even know why I'm doing this. I should leave you be. Let the dead be dead.
Goro Akechi: I hate you I hate you I hate you I wish we'd never met I wish you met me sooner.
Goro Akechi: I hate you, Akira Kurusu. I wish you could rot in hell instead of haunting me like the bitch you are leave me alone I can't stand you I hate you I hate you I hate you
Goro Akechi: Stop it
A few more messages came after, but Akira had stopped reading. Opting to place his phone down beside him with a sigh, resting his head against the wall behind him. Of course Akechi would say that. If he had begun apologising, Akira might have ended up messaging back in concern and blown their cover.
"He really–" Morgana, at some point, had gotten off of his lap and was instead resting right on top of Akira's phone. It seems to be in some attempt to hide it: Out of sight, out of mind. "–You shouldn't listen to him anymore, Akira. Ignore him."
The cat was right, of course, so Akira made a small non-committal hum. Really, if someone takes things like that to heart, it wouldn't be good at all. Unfortunately, Akira was nothing if not a little sacrificial. Curiousity kills, after all.
(And, A part of his mind whispered, This is your friend. Your rival. Your–
He cut off that thought. Not now. Especially not after everything.)
"I doubt he'd continue to message, anyways." Akira pointed out, but even he could tell from his own voice that it was unlikely. Akechi was emotional– Very, very emotional despite trying to act otherwise.
If Morgana noticed or agreed, he certainly didn't say anything. Instead making what sounded like a purr. "I'm sure he won't! He probably has other things to do!"
Akira spent the rest of the evening and early morning in feeble attempts to fall asleep, tossing and turning while trying to find at least one position that would let him rest. Nothing worked, obvious from the fact that by now the sun was slowly seeping through his windows.
He couldn't get the messages out of his head. Every time he nearly drifted to sleep, his brain suddenly flashes everything that's happened. A silver room, with only one table and two chairs. A warm welcome into a café. Eyes that took note of every small notion he did. The eerie sounds of Mementos surrounding him as a gun was pointed to his head. Darts. Billiards. A red mask. A black glove. The stench of blood. The sound of a gunshot.
His phone buzzed as another notification came in. Akira could see that this time, it was from the Phantom Thieves. Ryuji's yellow icon being unmistakable.
This time, he didn't feel the need to pick up. Even as the messages slowly dwindled into silence.