Don't Forget You Love Me

by Elsey8

Summary:

Akira Kurusu is in love with Goro Akechi. It doesn't make any sense. Maybe it doesn't have to. Or maybe it does.

Akira Kurusu is in love with him.

Goro knows this. He knows it for a fact. He isn’t necessarily sure if Kurusu is trying to hide it or not, but either way he can tell. Maybe love is too strong of a word, it’s much more likely to be a crush. Maybe Kurusu is just blinded by his celebrity status. Maybe he’s misreading it entirely, and Kurusu is simply attracted to him in a physical sense. 

But there’s just something about the way Kurusu looks at him that makes him think love is the right word. Even if that makes the least logical sense, all of the other clues Goro has at his disposal point to love. 

It’s just strange. Kurusu is strange. 

They’ve known each other for nine days now. They met on a Monday, the morning was overcast and Goro had forgotten an umbrella. It began to rain, a little at first, but it quickly became a downpour. Goro pressed himself against a nearby building trying to stay dry. He was cursing the fact that he left his umbrella at home in his haste to get out of the house. It was his fault for running late anyway, annoying as it was. 

There Kurusu was, holding his own umbrella out. As he tipped it towards Goro in offering, he was soaked immediately. It flattened his hair, pouring down his face, his glasses covered to the point that Goro doubted he could see anymore. He didn’t seem to mind, actually he let out a short laugh. He was wearing a Shujin Academy uniform, so Goro assumed he was on his way to school. And based on the time, he was as late as Goro was. But he didn’t take back his offer, actually he finally spoke, “Take it.”

Goro had no idea why this complete stranger was doing this for him. Still, he took the umbrella. He was going on TV later for an interview, and he really didn’t want the water to make his hair start to curl or ruin his clothes or any number of things that could ruin his image. He could’ve recovered from it, but he really wasn’t looking to add more to his plate. Even if it was just some tweet or extra interview or fully missing something to go back to his apartment and fix this. 

“Thank you,” he said. “What’s your number? I need to return this to you.”

Kurusu shouted his number, then took off down the street. Goro watched him go curiously as he stepped out from under the awning, filing away the numbers safely in his head. Even then, he remembers thinking Kurusu was incredibly strange. 

He texted Kurusu that night anyway. He was told three facts: His name, Akira Kurusu. His age, 16. And that the glasses he wore weren’t prescription, Kurusu could see perfectly well. The third was something Goro only learned because he asked if Kurusu had gotten to school safely completely drenched in water like that. 

It’s almost annoying how interested Goro became after learning those things. He’s always liked puzzles, the idea that if he just fits things together right, it’ll all make sense. The idea that if he can arrange things just so, he can understand Kurusu and see that full put together picture. 

They’ve been texting daily, or more like Kurusu has been texting him and Goro sometimes responds if he has time. Yet in all these texts, Goro has not learned a single piece of new information. In fact, Kurusu often is asking Goro questions rather than sharing anything about himself. Anything that Kurusu mentions about himself is something Goro already knows, or at least could guess from the few things he also already knows. Because of Kurusu’s age, he can guess what grade he’s in, because of seeing Kurusu in uniform, he knows he goes to Shujin. So when Kurusu keeps texting him about school, he doesn’t really learn anything. 

Goro shouldn’t even be spending this much time thinking about the boy. It’s a waste. But his curiosity burns him enough that he can’t help himself. 

That’s why they’re sitting across from each other right now. Goro has already handed the umbrella back to Kurusu, but still they sit in the little cafe together. Kurusu drinks coffee and looks at him with that look, that incomprehensible one. How can Kurusu feel this way after such a short amount of time? It seems insane, it is insane. It has to be something else, something deeper. 

Goro wants to believe he’s faking it, but that just doesn’t make any sense either. He should be able to see through it if it’s fake. 

“How’s work been?” Kurusu asks, tracing his finger around the handle of his mug. 

Goro takes a sip of his own drink to put off answering. As he does, he watches Kurusu’s lips quirk up into a smile, just a brief one, before it drops off his face entirely. 

“Fine,” he answers neutrally. “Busy. I can’t talk much about it, you know how my line of work is.”

Kurusu nods. He pushes up his stupid, fake glasses. 

“Right. That makes sense. Well, how’s school?” 

Goro purses his lips. He can’t tell if the instinct that he’s outmatched right now is paranoia or truth. Every time he talks to this boy, he feels vastly out of his depth. Like Kurusu knows something he doesn’t. But…well, how can that be? Goro did his own research. He knows things too. 

Kurusu just moved here, that much is true based on his records and all. He can’t be working for Shido, Shido was the one who ruined his life. And even if he’s trying to get back at Shido, he should have no reason to suspect Goro. He should have no clue about the Metaverse or anything like it. 

Kurusu is the one who’s out of his depth. 

Still, it bothers Goro. There’s just something about Kurusu that bothers him, like a persistent itch that he can’t quite reach. 

Kurusu tilts his head. He’s still waiting for an answer. 

“Stressful,” Goro eventually sighs. 

“Yes. You have a lot on your plate, don’t you, Detective?” Kurusu hums. 

Something about the nickname throws him off, but he blinks a few times until the feeling goes away. He really hopes that Kurusu didn’t notice. 

“I would say that. Nothing I can’t handle, though,” he dismisses. 

“I never doubted that,” Kurusu says. 

He slowly raises his mug to his mouth and drinks, not once taking his eyes off of Goro. His stare is intense and knowing, somehow. Like he truly believes what he’s said is the absolute truth, despite having known Goro for nine days. Nine. Days. This is only the second time they’ve interacted face to face. 

Yet the depth of Kurusu’s knowledge is undeniably impressive, and astounding. It’s evident that for whatever reason, Kurusu truly has seen into his true self in some way. 

Goro shudders. 

How incredibly off putting. And how fascinating. 

“How about you?” Goro flips around. 

“I’ve picked up some part time work. Some random stuff, and working for my temporary guardian,” Kurusu answers, resting his chin on his folded hands. “It’s been alright. Nothing too difficult, and the extra money is always good. School is easy, I’ve always been very smart, and Shujin is no harder than anything else.” 

Goro takes in the information, storing it away for his puzzle. He doesn’t feel any closer to solving it, or understanding Kurusu, but at least it’s better than nothing. It calms him down, somewhat, to learn things. He’s always been that way. 

“Do you know who I am? Have you seen me on TV? Have we met before?” Goro asks. 

He’s a little tired of beating around the bush. 

Kurusu’s face goes through a few different emotions. None of them are recognizable, not there long enough to place. Eventually, Kurusu bites his lip and shrugs. His expression has settled on completely neutral. 

“Yes, I have seen you on TV since I got here, but out in the rain was the first time I actually saw you since I got here,” Kurusu explains. “So not at first, but now I do.”

Goro pays complete attention to Kurusu as he speaks, desperately searching for a lie. But he finds none. Every word is true. At the same time…Goro senses there’s something more to all this. 

Goro drums his fingers on his leg. He supposes Kurusu likely doesn’t trust him yet. Maybe after some time, he’ll be more forthcoming about details. 

So Goro doesn’t nip this in the bud. He pulls his shears back and lets it grow. 

For now, it’s entertaining. So it can stay. 

Akira Kurusu is in love with him. Maybe he’s simply a fool who believes in love at first sight, maybe he’s actually tricked himself into the feeling. After all, it isn’t a lie if it’s what Kurusu believes. Someone can be wrong, but not actually lying. That must be it. It’s the only explanation that makes sense to Goro. Whatever it is, it can't possibly be real. If Kurusu truly knew him, all of him, and everything he’s done, he would quickly change his mind. 

The truth of the matter is that Kurusu has no idea what he’s stumbled into, or who Goro is. If he knew the scope of this, Goro is sure he’d run away. If he has any self-preservation in him, that is. Which is up for debate, he supposes. Kurusu is pretty reckless. 

Another fact Goro has learned, after he watched the boy take risk after risk when Goro took him rock climbing. Sure it was indoors and he was attached to a line, but most people still hesitate. They get scared when they’re up there, nothing below them. 

Not Kurusu. Not as he flung himself from hold to hold, only laughing every time he missed and plummeted several feet before the belayer caught him. He was downright suicidal up there, not a hint of fear in him. It actually appeared to delight him. It made Goro glad he had opted for something chill and indoors rather than the real thing. He thinks otherwise Kurusu would’ve gotten himself killed. 

And then Goro would never solve this puzzle. 

Kurusu finally tells him where he lives and works about two weeks into this ordeal. So Goro makes his way to Leblanc for the first time. He doesn’t have high expectations for it, not exactly. This is where Kurusu is staying, in the attic of this cafe, so…how nice can it be? 

He notes the atmosphere is quite nice as he steps inside, casting a glance around. 

“Please!” Kurusu is begging. 

Goro raises an eyebrow at the scene of Kurusu making some sort of plea with an older man who stands behind the counter.

“I don’t want you messing around with my equipment,” the man argues. 

“Please, please, I swear just give me a chance. You’ll see I know exactly what I’m doing,” Kurusu insists.  

“Alright! I’ll let you make one cup of coffee for your friend, and if you break anything, you’re paying for it,” the man gives in.

“Thank you! This is my friend, Goro Akechi. Akechi, this is my guardian, Sojiro Sakura,” Kurusu introduces, a large grin on his face. 

Friend? It’s not incorrect, not exactly. There’s not a better word for what they are, at least. Still, it’s the first time the words have been spoken into any sort of existence. 

Goro makes sure he doesn’t react with his face, and bows his head in Sakura’s direction.

Friend. He isn’t sure he really agrees.  

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says politely.

Sakura sort of grunts, maybe in agreement, Goro isn’t actually sure. That noise could mean anything. Whatever, this old man can be just as cagey as the boy in his charge, Goro has no stake. 

Kurusu ducks behind the counter and effortlessly and seamlessly begins to move around the other man to make coffee. Goro knows that Sakura wasn’t expecting this because he doesn’t even try to hide it, his eyes wide and blinking at Kurusu. Maybe he misjudged Sakura. It’s sort of nice to know that he isn’t the only person in this world absolutely bewildered by Akira Kurusu.  

He nods in Sakura’s direction to get across that he completely understands. 

When Sakura isn’t looking, Kurusu does a fancy trick. He picks a mug off the shelf and tosses it behind his back and over his head, not even looking as he snatches it out of the air with his other hand. He winks at Goro. 

Goro quickly looks away from Kurusu and back at Sakura, shooting his best smile at the older man. He hopes it helps mask his embarrassment and shock. 

Akira Kurusu is in love with him, somehow, that’s something Goro has known. But this blatant flirting is new. Goro isn’t sure how he feels about it. Is his face hot? Is he blushing? Maybe it’s just warm in here. 

If he wasn’t sure before, he is certainly sure now. Kurusu has some feelings for him, exactly what they are and if they’re real are things he’s still deciding. 

Anyway, he needs to get a hold of himself. At the end of the day, this whole thing doesn’t really matter. Nothing is going to come of it. 

Kurusu can flirt all he’d like, Goro is going to feign ignorance. 

Goro shakes his head, reaching for the coffee as Kurusu hands it to him. 

“I didn’t tell you what I wanted,” he comments. 

“You’re going to like it,” Kurusu insists. “Try it.” 

So Goro sighs and takes a sip, feeling both warmth and a sinking feeling in his chest. Again, it seems Kurusu knows him in a way that should be impossible. It’s been two weeks. They’ve known each other for two weeks. Fourteen days. 

Yet this coffee is surprisingly bitter and complex in flavor. He’d think that his facade would have people assuming he either drinks his coffee black or sickeningly sweet. And that’s normally how he takes it, ordering between the two interchangeably, because sometimes even his own facade fools him. He’s never entertained the idea that there’s anything else for him. Coffee has always just been a means to an end, something to wake him up from long days and longer nights. He thought maybe he simply didn’t like it, not really. 

It’s good. It’s delicious. He takes another sip to confirm, and it’s just as good as the first. In fact he thinks he grows to like it more on the second pass, tasting the deeper flavor profile. Is this what coffee is supposed to taste like? This is amazing. How does everyone always screw it up so badly? They’re utter buffoons. 

When he looks up, Kurusu is smiling all smugly at him. He knows. How in the world does he know all these things? Goro wants to wipe that look right off his face. If not for his image, he’d make such a scene, see if Kurusu would laugh then. 

Maybe one day Kurusu will cross Shido again and Goro will get to kill him. That would be a relief. 

“Is it good?” Kurusu asks, still grinning. 

“Yes,” Goro sighs. 

It’s starting to become somewhat annoying. And Goro can’t shake how strange it is, and how much he feels like he knows Kurusu. It can’t be true, they’ve only just met, Goro knows that for a fact. He has no reason to have met Kurusu prior to now, he wasn’t even living in Tokyo until shortly before they met. And he would have remembered meeting Kurusu before if he had, he’s quite striking. 

It isn’t possible, but the feeling won’t go away. Like something he can’t place, something that’s on the very tip of his tongue. He hasn’t been so involved in a puzzle in a long time. 

He takes another sip of his coffee, hoping it’ll give him some insight, but it doesn’t. 

Goro becomes a Leblanc regular. Although perhaps it’s less like he’s frequenting Leblanc, and more like he’s frequenting Kurusu’s company. He goes every Wednesday night, and every once in a while he’ll go on Saturdays too. Normally he likes to go to the Jazz Jin, but there’s this gravitational pull around Kurusu that draws his attention. He’s trying not to blame himself for getting caught up in it. 

The rest of the week he’s busy. Between school, interviews, work, and…Shido. So even when Kurusu texts him, he ignores it. Well, for the most part. If he really has a moment to himself, he’ll type out a short reply. But most of the time he doesn’t have that kind of time. He still reads all of the texts, he can’t really help it. 

Kurusu is growing on him. It’s actually kind of starting to annoy him. At first Kurusu seemed like some, overly cocky guy that thought he was just so mysterious and so irresistible. But it’s not really like that, is it? Kurusu is just that charismatic and intelligent, he matches Goro step for step without even blinking. It doesn’t seem like it’s easy for him necessarily, but more like it’s something he’s incredibly used to. 

Goro doesn’t remember the last time he felt like someone was this close to his equal. 

Kurusu makes him feel more normal. More like a real person his age. He often just feels like he’s pretending, like he’s putting on some sort of show. Or maybe like he isn’t real at all. Being a celebrity, being a hitman, having superpowers, all of it makes him feel like he’s just an actor in a movie. Some weird, fucked up tragedy. It can’t be real life, it can’t be his life, what he’s going through. 

He’s so far from normal. 

But then again, Akira Kurusu is in love with him. That feels real, it feels normal. It’s actually kind of grounding. Even if it’s ridiculous and it can’t mean anything and Goro doesn’t even fully believe it, it’s such a simple thing. That there’s a boy in this world who has a crush on him. It’s actually…relieving. 

Yet. The elephant. 

He can’t ask. He shouldn’t. But if it’s true, if it’s what he thinks it is, will Kurusu actually tell him? It’s too telling, though, isn’t it? If he goes there, he can’t really go back, can he? 

He hates this. He feels like he’s standing on a ledge, and he can’t see anything below him. He could jump. Maybe it would even work out well for him. But jumping blindly would be the most idiotic move he’s made in a long time. He can’t. 

It’s not worth the risk. Kurusu isn’t worth any of this. 

“Akechi!” 

Goro stands straight up, whipping his head around as Kurusu walks up to him. He’s been standing in an alley near the Jazz Jin, thinking. He quickly puts his cigarette out, unsure if Kurusu saw him smoking. He struggles with his expression, forcing a smile. He can’t tell if it’s convincing or not. 

“Kurusu. What a surprise, I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before,” he says. 

His voice sounds hoarse even to his own ears. 

“Oh I come around here sometimes. I’ve seen you, you just typically look like you don’t want to be bothered, but I like going to the Penguin Sniper. I like their games,” Kurusu hums. “Did you have any plans tonight?” 

“Did I look like I do want to be bothered tonight?” Goro asks. 

He thinks in any other context it would sound mean, but his question is genuine and he can tell Kurusu takes it that way. It was how Kurusu worded it first. 

Goro wouldn’t have said exactly that. He’s much more polite, when he has to be. 

“I figured you could use some company.” Kurusu shrugs.  

“Company,” Goro echoes. 

“Can I take you to play some billiards, maybe?” Kurusu offers, nodding. 

Kurusu’s hands are in his pockets. He looks completely nonchalant, at least at first glance. But Goro peers further in, for once trying to look into Kurusu as deeply as the boy looks into him. It’s harder than he expected. 

Everything else about Kurusu now reads to him like an open book. He’s talkative when you get to know him, he likes to chatter about things in his life. He talks about his feelings and stuff all the time, and that made Goro think this would be easy. He checks Kurusu’s sleeve for his heart, but he doesn’t see it. 

Kurusu is strangely guarded. 

He furrows his brow, as he fails to read anything past the easygoing smile Kurusu has on his face.

How infuriating. Goro feels his eye twitch.  

“If you have a question, you can just ask me,” Kurusu says. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll get anything from staring at me. I am very flattered though.” 

“Were you involved in what happened at Shujin Academy?” Goro questions bluntly. 

There’s no sense beating around the bush here. He’s a detective, for god's sake, this is his right to ask. It isn’t suspicious, he’s being paranoid. This is perfectly normal, and if Kurusu tries to say otherwise, he’ll fight back. This is literally his job. 

Kurusu takes a deep breath and then sighs. He takes his hands out of his pockets and steps the rest of the way into the alley, then leans against the opposite wall. It’s hard to see through his glasses, but Goro thinks he sees a shine in his eyes. Maybe it’s guilt? Maybe Kurusu really is involved. 

“Yes,” Kurusu tells him. 

Goro’s heart stops, then starts pounding. Is Kurusu going to hurt him? He flicks his eyes around. This is a populated place, but if Kurusu is actually dangerous like he suspects, that might not matter. His hand twitches. He doesn’t have his gun on him. Kurusu might be armed, he doesn’t know. Can he win this fight? 

It all depends on how adept Kurusu is at hand-to-hand. It’s possible that this attack is some impulsive self-defense gambit, to get Goro off his trail. If it’s that unplanned, he can certainly win. But maybe Kurusu has been planning this…then he might be in some danger. 

No–this is ridiculous. Kurusu isn’t going to hurt him. 

Goro isn’t in danger. He has to relax, before Kurusu picks up on his tension. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just–I didn’t want you to stop me,” Kurusu explains. 

Goro can’t believe it. Akira Kurusu loves him. It’s true. That’s what all this is, this is just Kurusu loving him. Telling him, for what? Hoping this builds trust or something between them? 

What an idiot. Kurusu is a complete and utter fool. To just come out with this? Why? Why does this boy love him so much? Is it real? It can’t be, can it? 

The truth, just incorrect. It has to be. 

“I–” he starts, then stops. 

He shakes his head. 

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Listen, I want you to be able to trust me.” Kurusu pushes his glasses up, his foot tapping beside him. “And if that means telling you all the illegal shit I just did, so be it. But I don’t want you in a position where you have to do something you might not want to do.” 

Goro is trying to think. He can’t keep up with Kurusu, not like this. What in the world is he thinking telling Goro all these things? He just can’t understand it, and since he can’t understand it, he feels out of his depth. He’s in over his head. Like Kurusu could say anything right now. 

This whole situation confuses him. Between Kurusu’s feelings and this trust he has in Goro and the knowledge he seems to possess. He doesn’t make any sense, he’s an impossible person. Goro feels the need to crack him wide open. He isn’t sure exactly how, yet. 

“If you’re going to tell me, tell me,” Goro decides. 

“Alright. I went into a place called the Metaverse, into Kamoshida’s Palace and–” 

Goro goes to take a step back, but the wall is behind him. 

“What are you talking about?” he tries to play off. 

But he thinks he’s already given himself away. Kurusu’s eyes are knowing, like they always are. 

He’s looking at Goro in both an understanding and unsurprised way. As if he can see into Goro’s soul, see Loki lurking within him. 

How? 

Kurusu is really starting to piss him off. 

“The Metaverse. Another world of some kind, I have an app on my phone,” Kurusu insists. 

“The Metaverse. Some kind of other world. It’s accessed through the web. I have an app on my phone,” Goro explained. 

Shido looked up from his desk, eyes piercing through Goro. 

“Tell me more,” he commanded. 

“You–you work for him!” Goro accuses. 

He thought that love was real, but he shouldn’t have been so stupid. So ridiculous. How could anyone love him? Let alone someone who barely knows him. 

It was all fake, the whole time. He should’ve known. Oldest fucking trick in the book. 

He can’t believe it actually fooled him. What a joke. 

“No, no, Goro,” Kurusu argues. 

“Don’t call me that. You—you motherfucker,” Goro spits. 

“Hey, calm down. Listen to me. Listen to my voice. I am not lying to you, I have not lied to you, I will not lie to you,” Kurusu swears. 

Goro searches desperately for the tell. The lie. Fuck, why can’t he find it? Why is Kurusu so good at this? 

He wants to choke him out in this alley, but he just balls his fists up, digging his nails into his palm trying to calm down. 

“I won’t let this stand,” Goro hisses. “Did he warn you that might happen? That his fucking dog might bite instead of roll over?” 

“I’m not working for him!” Kurusu shouts. 

Then he closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. He composes himself quickly. 

Once, Goro assumed Kurusu couldn’t be working for Shido due to their past together. Now he isn’t so sure. That could be fabricated too. Anything could be a lie. Everything is always a lie. 

But the anger that flickered across Kurusu’s face is making Goro hesitate even more. He doesn’t know what to think right now. He’s given himself away no matter what, though. Not entirely, but at least somewhat. He overreacted, he wasn’t smart enough about this. His fear got the better of him. When was the last time that happened? 

But someone else in the Metaverse, how else could he have reacted? It’s impossible. 

He’s known Kurusu for such a short time, but he got caught up. How could he be so stupid? 

“I’m not working for anyone,” Kurusu repeats. “I stumbled into the Metaverse by complete accident, coincidence, happenstance. It wasn’t on purpose. Whatever you know about it, whatever you suspect me of, I just want you to know that I went into the Metaverse and I changed Kamoshida’s heart. That’s why he confessed to all his crimes. I don’t need you to trust me, I just need you to believe me.” 

“You’re insane. You shouldn’t be telling me this at all,” Goro tells him. 

“I know.”

Goro searches Kurusu’s face desperately. He looks for signs of a lie, signs of weakness, signs of an explanation for any of this. Some deeper scheme in the works. 

But all he sees is openness. And that same, lovestruck look that Kurusu always gives him. Like he simply can’t help it. 

Goro shakes his head in absolute disbelief. 
“I…I believe you,” Goro sighs. 

He’s a little disgusted with himself. He isn’t sure what his gain is here. He just knows that backing down, running away from this, that would be stupid. He can use this. Or he can accept this, he isn’t sure which he wants yet. Kurusu makes him feel so confused and turned around. Either way, he has to do damage control now. 

Goro takes a deep breath, and he’s in control again. He should’ve been composed from the start, but he has to at least finish this way. 

Kurusu has just fallen into a trap that Goro didn’t even need to set himself. This is good, isn’t it? 

“I believe you,” he says again, louder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. It’s just that–”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Kurusu dismisses. 

Should he argue? Insist on explaining? Would that make him look better here? He bites his tongue while he thinks, tilting his head at Kurusu to buy more time. 

“About anything. I told you because I trust you, but I understand that you likely don’t trust me yet. I don’t need to know anything,” Kurusu elaborates. 

“Okay,” Goro agrees, slowly. 

He waits for the other boy to change his mind, or come to his senses. But he doesn’t. 

He just smiles at Goro. 

“So, Penguin Sniper?” he asks. 

“Yes, Penguin Sniper,” Goro replies. 

He doesn’t fight his eye rolls nearly as much as he has been while Kurusu kind of destroys him playing billiards. Next time he’ll show him. 

Akira Kurusu is in love with him. And this has baffled Goro for the better part of the last month and a half. It doesn’t make any sense, and it’s rather idiotic on Kurusu’s part. However, he’s come to terms with it. 

Mostly with the fact that he can use it. Shido isn’t particularly happy about the Phantom Thieves, so Goro assumes that at some point he’ll have to take care of them.

And it’ll be much, much easier when he’s this close to their leader. When Kurusu would do anything for him already. Maybe it’ll even mean he won’t have to kill the poor, pathetic boy. But he’ll do whatever he has to. He’s not really concerned with how it’ll all work out, he’s been doing this for a long time. He’s sacrificed a lot more than a boy that frankly annoys him a lot of the time. At least Kurusu is also entertaining most of the time, but that’s it. When it comes down to it, he won’t hesitate. 

Goro checks his phone when it buzzes, sighing when he sees Kurusu has finally messaged him. Goro was told that Kurusu would be busy for a few days because of his midterms, but the silence has still been strange. It’s very unlike him, not to even give a brief update about his day. Normally he can’t get Kurusu to stop texting him. He could ignore the boy for days, for a whole week, and still receive texts from him every day. 

 

Kurusu: done with exams 

Kurusu: free tonight?

Kurusu: we could meet up 

 

Me: I have no current plans. Where would you like to go? 

 

Kurusu: dinner? totally starving 

 

Me: I haven’t eaten yet. Where should I meet you? 

 

Kurusu: Ginza? ever been? 

 

Me: Yes. Now? 

 

Kurusu: yes. beat you there 

 

Goro rolls his eyes, pocketing his phone and quickly gathering his things. He certainly won’t be beaten. 

They’ve developed something of a rivalry. Goro has been trying to rein in his competitiveness, for the sake of his appearance, but Kurusu seems hellbent on teasing it out of him. It has to be purposeful in some manner, for some reason. Goro just hasn’t puzzled it out yet. 

Kurusu has actually become even more bizarre since their confrontation. Goro thinks maybe he’s more relaxed? Like maybe he isn’t hiding parts of himself anymore, although Goro suspects that he still isn’t seeing the whole picture. He knows enough to realize his puzzle is far from finished. 

He’s surprised that Kurusu is trusting him more, he thought that it came along with loving him. Or “loving” him, at least. Whatever it is Kurusu really feels. But no, it certainly seems like Goro is slowly earning his trust as well. 

He’s learned a lot more about Kurusu. About his past, his friends, his hobbies. His million jobs and how he’s doing in school. Kurusu has been completely upfront with all of this, as if he was never mysterious to begin with. 

Goro isn’t sure what’s an act and what isn’t. He’s also come to realize that Kurusu is a pretty good liar and pretender. He hasn’t determined whether or not Kurusu employs such tactics with him or not. He’s seen them in action, though. 

It’s what begins to earn Kurusu his respect. Maybe the boy isn’t as stupid as he first thought. 

It seems it doesn’t particularly matter if Kurusu is lying to a friend, foe, or complete stranger. He does it with the same ease and talent. 

The first time Goro saw it in person it was to a stranger. Seemingly for fun. Maybe even for Goro’s benefit.

“Are you the Detective Prince?” a bright, starry-eyed fan asked.

Goro gathered himself for the interaction, but before he could speak, Kurusu started laughing.

“That’s the third time today!” he exclaimed, nudging Goro’s shoulder. “I told you you shouldn’t wear your hair like that, everyone thinks you’re that celebrity.”

“Right. You did say that,” Goro corroborated, pitching his voice down slightly, closer to his real voice. 

That made Kurusu absolutely beam at him. 

“I told you so, c’mon, tell me I’m right,” Kurusu teased. 

Goro played into it, finding some entertainment in the prolonged scene. 

“You’re right,” Goro relented.

“I’m so sorry! I thought you were someone else,” the stranger blurted, then scurried away. 

The second lie Goro saw was to someone Kurusu clearly disliked. It was a woman Goro knew, not personally, but certainly knew of. 

Ichiko Ohya. A thorn in Shido’s side for a time, Goro recalls doing a mental shutdown on her partner, what was her name again…something Murakami…well, no matter. 

When she approached them, for just a moment, Kurusu’s face twitched into something like a grimace. Then, he smiled, that big, fake smile he sometimes wore. The one that Goro found quite familiar. He turned to face her. 

“Akira-chan!” she sang, clearly slightly tipsy. “Who’s this boy?”

“Who’s this?” Goro asked Kurusu, completely ignoring the woman. 

“I’m his girlfriend,” Ohya giggled, slinging an arm around Kurusu.

Goro watched as his whole body tensed, discomfort and annoyance clear from his body language even though his face still had that smile fixed on it. He fought the urge to glare at this woman. 

“No need to trick him, this isn’t someone from your work,” Kurusu told her, shrugging off the touch. “This is my actual partner, Goro.” 

Goro held back his shock, immediately ready to go along with Kurusu’s lie just like he had last time. It was fun, to trick someone together. And in this case, he was more than happy to do it again. He nodded when Ohya turned her attention on him. 

But he didn’t lose his cool despite his surprise. 

“Really?” she questioned, her eyes turned sharp. “Isn’t this that celebrity, the detective?”

“He’s also my age, Ohya. And I happen to like him, celebrity or not. You always judge people so quickly,” Kurusu said. 

“Akira,” Goro called.

The name should’ve felt unfamiliar on his tongue, as it was really the first time he was calling Kurusu by his given name, for a lie or not. But it flowed smoothly from his lips. He even felt his mouth tugged into a small smile, which he didn’t bother to beat back. All part of the show. 

“Coming, honey,” Kurusu laughed, breaking from Ohya’s side and coming to his. 

He casually slipped his hand into Goro’s, and Goro could feel the warmth even through his glove. It struck him then, that Akira Kurusu was in love with him. Really, actually. 

It was not a lie. It was not something Kurusu tricked himself into. It was not true but wrong. 

This was genuinely what Kurusu wanted. He wanted to hold Goro’s hand. Wanted to be with him, wanted this stupid lie he was telling to be real. 

How pathetic. 

Still, as Ohya rolled her eyes and walked away, Kurusu quickly took his hand back. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately. “I’ve been trying to get her to leave me alone and—“

Goro put a hand up to stop Kurusu’s rambling. 

“No need to apologize. It was an excellent lie,” he dismissed. 

And Kurusu dropped it. 

Then, the third, most baffling lie of all. A lie to Sakura. 

Goro knows that Kurusu deeply respects Sakura. Sure sometimes they bicker, but Goro has always felt like beneath it all is mutual respect. So when Sakura asked, “Do you know anything about these Phantom Thieves?” 

Well, Goro assumed Kurusu would come clean about it all, like he did with Goro. Instead, Kurusu set a cup of coffee in front of Goro with a neutral expression. At that moment, it was the loudest sound in the cafe. His expression was…bored, somehow. 

He didn’t quite roll his eyes, but it was something like that. 

Then, Kurusu shrugged. 

“They left those, calling card things at my school. I don’t really know much about it though,” Kurusu lied. 

It easily came out of him, like a lie he’d told before and would tell again. This time, Goro had no reason to add anything. Still, he cleared his throat and spoke, “I’ve been assigned their case. I’m sure it’ll get sorted out soon.”

And Sakura just nodded, and didn’t question further.

The thing about the series of lies is that it actually tells Goro a significant amount about Kurusu. 

He has a tell when he lies. It’s something in his eyes. A little dullness to them. He can make his face mostly bend to the expression he needs, but not his eyes. So all Goro needs to do to spot a lie is look Kurusu in the eyes. 

So he levels his gaze at Kurusu, there tucked in a back corner of the Jazz Jin. Kurusu is sipping his drink and looking at, admiring, the singer. 

There’s something kind of adoring, loving even, in that gaze. 

But that’s not important right now. It doesn’t matter. Goro just needs to confirm something, that’s all. 

“Kurusu?” 

Kurusu turns to look at him immediately. A call, an answer. Something Goro has grown quite used to. Kurusu never lets him go ignored. 

He dismisses how that makes him feel. He swallows, preparing himself. 

“Yes?”

“You truly aren’t working for him?” he asks. 

Kurusu’s eyes are nothing but glittering and honest when he says, “No. I would never, ever, work for him. It would be a betrayal not only of myself, but also of you.”

Somehow, even without Shido’s name spoken, Goro believes him entirely. Believing Kurusu would have ever done that seems ridiculous now. 

Akira Kurusu loves him. He wouldn’t do that. He would never.  

Honestly, all of this is a mistake. As Kurusu turns his head back to watch the singer, Goro realizes that. Even if he’s doing this, what, for Shido? To take down the Phantom Thieves so that Shido is happy? 

He’s making this harder for himself. Spending this time with Kurusu, getting to know him…when he ultimately has to do something about all this, he’ll struggle. He’s making the struggle for himself right now. He can tell, the longer he spends with Kurusu, the less he wants to kill him. Unfortunately, Kurusu is genuinely growing on him. 

The Phantom Thieves are already getting to be too much. They’ve taken down Madarame, and Shido has been pissed for weeks. Goro knows they’re only gaining momentum. It’ll only get worse. 

Why in the world has he taken Kurusu to the Jazz Jin? To his safe haven? Is he looking to poison every aspect of his life with this boy? This boy who will be dead in a few months? Because even if he doesn’t want to kill Kurusu anymore, he isn’t going to get that choice. In the end, Goro doesn’t make choices anymore. He just listens to Shido and bides his time. And one day he’ll get to the point that when he self-destructs, he can take Shido down with him. That’s his only path in life. It’s all he has left. Kurusu gets in the way of all of that. 

He’s being stupid, he’s letting his emotions get the better of him. 

He should have already pulled away, yet he leans closer again. What’s wrong with him? 

“Her voice really is beautiful,” Kurusu comments. 

He must know. Surely, he knows. Kurusu isn’t stupid. He’s smart, clever, and sharp more than anything. He isn’t an idiot. Goro thought he was at first, but he was wrong. He underestimated the boy. 

Kurusu can beat Goro at chess half the time, read his moves, plan ahead. More than that, he knows Goro. 

So he has to know. About Shido, about the mental shutdowns. All of it. Everything. 

Still, he sits across from Goro with happiness in his eyes. No dullness. There’s never been dullness there, not towards Goro. Maybe to everything and everyone else in this world, but every time Akira has ever looked at him, it’s only been with love. 

Kurusu. Not…

“What are you thinking over there, Detective?” Akira asks, still not even looking at him. 

“Nothing,” he lies. “Nothing at all, Kurusu.”

Goro doesn’t pull away. He should. It would be the smart thing to do, distance himself now and get it over with. Honestly, he should tell Shido to let him kill Akira now before he becomes more of a problem. Shido would say yes. 

But he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t pull away. He keeps leaning into the mistake. He doubles down, even. It’s too late anyway. 

It’s like, Akira just managed to grow much faster into his life than he expected. And maybe he could cut it all back now, maybe he could step away and call Shido and tell him what he knows. Akira needs to die, before this gets worse. 

He can’t. Why can’t he? 

“Rematch,” Goro challenges. 

Akira laughs, twirling the captured king piece in his fingers. 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Akira says, a warm smile on his face, but he starts resetting the board. “We’re even, aren’t we?”

Goro pulls out his phone, opening the note where he keeps track of their wins and losses. 

 

Chess 

 

Wins: 

Kurusu - 25

Goro - 26 

 

Draws: 2

 

He records the win for Akira, then nods and puts his phone away. 

“We are even. That’s exactly why we need to play again,” he insists. “I won’t stand for a tie.” 

“Okay, I’ll get us more coffee,” Akira offers.

He gets up and ducks behind the counter.

Leblanc is technically closed. Sakura left about an hour ago. Goro meant to leave after this game, but it went on longer than expected, and then he lost. What he told Akira is true, he hates when they’re tied. And he really doesn’t want to go. 

The Phantom Thieves took down Kaneshiro a few days ago. This is the first breath of air Goro has really taken since then. Shido is unhappy. Shido has a plan. Goro doesn’t know yet how it’ll go. 

When Akira comes back over with coffee, Goro takes it gratefully with his shaking hands. He curses them, forcing them to steady. It only takes him a few moments to get it under control, but he’s sure that’s still enough for Akira to pick up on. 

Akira slides back into the other side of the booth. He’s clearly caught the moment of weakness, Goro can see it in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t bring it up. Not even as a joke. 

Instead he turns the board so that Goro has the white pieces this time. 

“You should stop,” Goro blurts out, shoving one of his pawns forward. 

God, why is he speaking? He’s allowed himself to make this mistake, but he’s not supposed to be taking it this far. At the end of the day, he still has a job to do. One which is much older than whatever this is with Akira. 

Akira makes him feel so out of control. So childish.

He should’ve long since outgrown these types of feelings. Akira must die. What is he trying to accomplish by warning him? 

“You’re right, let’s go to my room for a bit,” Akira quickly replies, standing. 

He tugs Goro up out of his seat by his wrist and towards the stairs. Goro is so shocked that he just goes. He’s never been in Akira’s room. He’s watched Akira come and go from the safety of downstairs, letting that whole area be a blank spot in his mind. And all at once he’s upstairs. 

It’s…nice. Goro takes in everything slowly. Akira’s makeshift bed, the old shitty laptop on his desk, various trinkets, the TV that must have been left on paused in the middle of a game. It’s all very Akira, in his opinion. 

“The cafe is bugged,” Akira tells him. 

Goro shakes his head. He’s overwhelmed. 

Akira is a whole human person with a whole, human life. One that he’s going to end. He feels a little sick. 

He needs to get a handle on this before it gets further out of his control. 

“What?” he responds numbly. “Bugged?” 

What is Akira even talking about? Why would Leblanc be bugged? That doesn’t make any sense. Did Shido bug it? That can’t be true. He doesn’t have time to do something like that just because he doesn’t trust Goro, does he? 

“It’s not important right now. I can’t just stop, Akechi.” 

Right, right. 

Goro looks away from his surroundings and into Akira’s eyes. 

“Do you love me?” he asks. 

Goro knows the answer to this. At least he thinks he does. Everything Akira has shown him so far makes him think that Akira loves him. Maybe because he’s too ignorant to think otherwise, but he still genuinely loves Goro. 

But he needs to know. He needs to hear it. He needs Akira to admit it, out loud. 

If he’s really going to make steps towards…some kind of warning, telling Akira to stop all this, then that’s where he needs to start. 

Akira closes his eyes. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. Then he opens his eyes, and they’re completely dull. 

“No,” Akira lies. 

“Why are you lying now? Why bother? Do you really think I’ll believe you? Tell me the truth!” Goro demands. 

“Quiet, quiet. I don’t want anyone to hear,” Akira begs. 

“Then just be honest with me. Do you think I can’t handle the truth? Don’t insult me,” Goro snaps. 

“Fine. I love you. Okay? God, Akechi, you always make this so difficult. Obviously, I love you,” Akira admits, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “But I can’t stop. I’m sorry.” 

“You know, right?” 

Akira nods. His eyes are full of regret. 

“Everything? All of it?” Goro prompts. 

“Whatever you think I know, I know. Whatever you think I couldn’t possibly know, I still know. That’s why I’m so fucking sorry, Akechi. I have to do this as much as you have to do what you’re doing.” Akira sighs heavily. 

“Then you know exactly what kind of danger you’re in. And why, and who will have to deal with it when the time comes. Don’t make me. You don’t have to do anything, you can put an end to this. I can’t. I don’t want to…” Goro can’t say it. 

He doesn’t want to kill Akira. He will, but he doesn’t want it to come to that. 

“I have to,” Akira repeats. “There’s no choice for me. It’s too important, more than you know right now–” 

“No choice? You have to tell me what you’re talking about. Why won’t you tell me?” 

Akira reaches up and tugs at his bangs hard. Goro aches to reach out, but he doesn’t. This is it, isn’t it? Either Akira comes clean again, they lay everything out on the table and figure it out, or they don’t. 

Or they don’t. And they both do exactly what they have to. Goro doesn’t want that. Akira can’t want it either, can he? 

“Because you won’t believe me. You won’t understand. It won’t make any sense,” Akira lists off. 

“So you won’t tell me? You refuse? How is that fair?” Goro argues. “You already know everything about me, apparently. We’re supposed to be equals.” 

Akira sits down on his bed. He drops his face into his hands. He mutters to himself, too quiet for Goro to hear. Goro takes a step forward, but only one. This is as far as he can go. But then it seems like Akira pulls himself together, or maybe decides something. 

He picks his head up. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks Goro. 

That’s really complicated. Well, maybe not so much. 

Goro is trying to trust Akira. He really is. He believes in Akira, that the boy has always told him the truth at the end of the day. As far as he knows, Akira denying loving him is the only time he even attempted to tell Goro a lie. But it isn’t that simple in this case. It just isn’t. 

Goro needs to keep reminding himself of his plan. Akira has quite the talent to make him forget all about it, but he needs to remember. His plan. He won’t sacrifice it. He can’t. 

“I’m trying. But I’m beginning to think that you don’t trust me,” Goro spits. 

“I–can you find it in yourself to wait a little longer? Until I’m more sure, until I can find proof for you,” Akira requests. 

“I don’t need proof. I just want to know why you believe you must do this. Nobody is making you, are they?” he tries. 

He isn’t sure if it’ll work. He doesn’t know why he needs this so badly. He feels somewhat pathetic, actually. Ridiculous. He hates the way Akira makes him act. But he also desperately needs to know what’s going on here. If he has to kill Akira, he’d at least like to know the reason. 

He’d at least want to know what he’s getting into and why. 

“Not exactly. But I do have to. I owe it to the world, Akechi. I can’t just let it burn,” Akira says. 

Goro hates how bright his eyes are. He wishes they were dull, he wishes he could easily dismiss everything as a lie. He wishes things didn’t have to be this way. Why can’t Akira just listen to him? He’s going to get himself killed, for what? The world? Who cares about any of that? Akira is so damn righteous. Goro never should’ve taken that umbrella. 

It seems that their difference in beliefs leaves them at a stalemate for now. 

“Okay. I’ll leave it for now. But, you have to start telling me things. I need to know your moves first, before you make them. And if you can do that for me, I…I can tell you mine. We can try this, trusting each other.” Goro crosses his arms tightly over his chest. 

His mistake has become a complete betrayal of everything. What is he doing? 

Why is he putting it all on the line trying to protect this boy? Just because Akira loves him? What does that matter? 

There has to be another explanation. He’ll think about that. But for now, he’s already offered the deal. No sense backing out. 

“Deal. Right now we’re between targets, we typically all decide together. I can tell you when we all pick,” Akira tells him as he stands back up. 

“He’s planning something now. I haven’t heard yet, though,” Goro responds. 

He follows Akira back down the stairs. Just like that, they resume their game. Goro takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee and doesn’t bring up that it’s his favorite brew so far. 

He loses again. 

Goro stares down at his phone, trying to put together a text to send to Akira. He has the day off, and he isn’t usually the one to invite Akira out for things, but he has something to tell him. He has to kill someone tomorrow, and he figures Akira should know. He’s slightly worried that Akira is going to try to convince him not to. He doesn’t really want to have this conversation at all, but he figures that he needs to offer up his part of the deal in order to get Akira to tell him what he wants to know. How exactly does he phrase this, though? Shido has his phone bugged, so he needs to be very careful. 

 

Goro: Would you meet with me tonight? I find myself craving some coffee. 

 

Kurusu: i can be back at leblanc in fifteen 

 

Goro: I will head over then. It will take me roughly that long to get there anyway. 

 

Kurusu: you might beat me there 

 

Goro: Quite. 

 

Akira’s right, Goro gets there ahead of him. He feels rather awkward when he pushes the door open and makes eye contact with Sakura. It isn’t the first time they’ve been in here alone, but things are different. He’s been up into the attic now, and made his deal with Akira. 

And now he knows the cafe is bugged. He still doesn’t know by who or why, he should probably ask Akira that, but he feels strange talking down there now. He’s never really liked the feeling of being watched; he knows it’s ironic, him being a celebrity and all that, but that’s different. They aren’t really seeing him. Just the version of him that he’s feeding them. Being watched like this, and the way Akira watches him, it makes his skin crawl. 

“Akechi, kid isn’t in,” Sakura tells him gruffly. 

“I know. He said he would meet me here.” 

Goro slides into his spot at the counter, putting his briefcase off to the side, on the chair beside him. It’s how he usually sits here, but it feels weird right now. He shifts uncomfortably. 

“Can you help me with the crossword?” Sakura asks him. 

All of the sudden, a newspaper is set down in front of him. Goro peers down at it, at the clue Sakura has his pen resting over. 

May Blues? Goro counts the number of letter spots, then answers, “Malaise.” 

“You’ll have to forgive my mind. Getting a little slower in my old age,” Sakura comments. 

“Of course,” Goro hums, nodding politely. 

Akira arrives a few minutes later. By then, Goro’s already taken out his laptop and started some work. It’ll be some time before he’ll get to talk to Akira anyway, so he might as well get something done in the meantime. 

“Kurusu,” Goro greets, not even looking up.

He can tell it’s the other boy based on Sakura’s reaction after the bell rings. He keeps looking down at the newspaper, but from Goro’s position he can see how the man’s eyes glance over. His expression brightens, a little. 

“Welcome back, kid,” Sakura adds. 

He flicks the newspaper in his hands, humming lightly. He does a decent act of pretending to be engrossed in it, but his lips are curled up at the corners as Akira ducks behind the counter with him. 

“Go get changed,” Sakura commands. “And put that bag down!” 

Akira drops his bag on the counter, and Morgana jumps out of it. 

“I’ll get changed in a second,” Akira laughs, leaning slightly into Sakura’s space as he leans against the counter. “I gotta make Akechi some coffee. That’s the whole reason you’re here, isn’t it? Ooh, and to help Sojiro with the crossword? I was gonna do that when I got home. Detective, you’re stealing my thunder.” 

“You were slow,” Goro dismisses, looking back down at his laptop.  

Akira gasps, then laughs again, brighter this time. 

“That was mean,” he snickers. 

Goro looks up, swallowing. He should take that back. Akira’s right, that was mean. Goro didn’t think before he spoke, he just got caught up in Akira’s presence. It’s closer to his true self than some other iterations of himself, but it’s certainly not supposed to be this close. 

But when he catches Akira’s eyes, it’s like…

No, there’s no reason to apologize or take it back. Akira already knows that this is what he’s like. There’s no sense trying to hide from it. 

It makes Goro sick, to be seen like this. Doubly so that Akira seems to love even this more unpleasant part of him. He’s got that look on his face that Goro is getting used to. The one that he reads as love. The one he knows is real now. 

“Well,” Goro clears his throat, “be faster next time.”

Akira goes about making his coffee. Whenever Sakura isn’t watching, he adds a little flair. Goro is trying to go back to his work, but Akira has thoroughly captured his attention. Being charmed by a Phantom Thief, he’s so stereotypical. 

That’s what finally forces his eyes back to his work. The thought of how pathetic he’s been recently. Akira makes him feel stupid in many ways, but this is his least favorite. 

“Drink up,” Akira encourages, setting a mug down in front of him. 

Then he runs upstairs (to his makeshift bed, his desk and shitty laptop, his trinkets, his TV, his room, his space, his life), presumably to get changed. 

Goro takes the moment of not being watched to take his first sip. He got lucky today, usually Akira watches him like a hawk to make sure he likes it. 

It’s sweet. But not too sweet. It’s cut down slightly, sweet in the way it tingles on his tongue for a moment when he drinks it. It’s an excellent brew. Goro takes another sip, letting himself sit in the silence. Yes, it’s really good. He pauses before he drinks again, then finally sets the mug back down on the counter. 

He thinks it’s his favorite yet. He always thinks Akira can’t possibly improve any more, but he finds himself liking these cups of coffee more and more. Or maybe he’s just grown to appreciate them more than he did in the beginning. Whatever it is, it seems like he finds new favorites in every brew. That’s a talent. Goro usually prides himself on his high standards. 

Akira comes back down dressed in casual clothes. He doesn’t get back behind the counter, but rather slides into one of the booths and pulls out a book. He reads there for a while, until Sakura announces he’s going to close up. 

“I’ll lock it all up when Akechi leaves,” Akira promises as Sakura’s on his way out the door. 

Then he catches Goro’s eye. Without a word spoken between them, they both head up the stairs. Goro notices that Morgana is gone. He isn’t sure when Akira let the cat out, but he’s grateful the strange talking animal isn’t here. 

“I will be performing a mental shutdown tomorrow,” Goro tells him immediately. 

No reason to beat around the bush. Akira knows what he is. 

“I see,” Akira responds. 

He sits on his couch, crossing his legs. As he peers up at Goro, there is no surprise there. Of course there isn’t. Akira knows everything, doesn’t he? Even the things he “can’t possibly know”. How annoying. 

“I just wanted you to be prepared,” he sighs. “So what? You aren’t going to try to talk me out of it? Aren’t you some hero? You won’t even try to save this person’s life?” 

Akira shakes his head. 

“I never claimed to be a hero. That’s not exactly why I do any of this. I have a duty to the world, I care about what happens to it, that’s all. You have a job too. We may not like what we have to do, but still. We do it. I won’t get in your way so long as you don’t get in mine. That’s the deal we’ve made, for now,” Akira says.

Huh. Interesting. 

Goro keeps Akira’s eyes the whole time, looking for a lie. But there is none. He didn’t really think there would be, but it’s always worth a look when it comes to these things. 

“Alright,” Goro gives. 

Akira won’t get in his way, then that’s fine. He’ll do things exactly as intended tomorrow and he won’t lose sleep over it. Things may become problematic when he inevitably has to get in Akira’s way, but that’s for another day. He should go. He did what he came here to do. 

“Game of chess before you go?” Akira challenges. 

“You’re on,” he agrees immediately. 

He wins. 

Akira doesn’t say anything about the dead man on the news. Goro doesn’t bring it up either. 

 

Kurusu: are you free? 

Kurusu: do you want to come to leblanc 

Kurusu: play video games or 

Kurusu: chess. i could make you coffee and curry if you havent eaten 

Kurusu: or we could go out 

Kurusu: i dont know 

 

It’s a strange series of texts. They almost don’t sound like Akira talking at all. He just seems so uncertain. That’s one thing Goro has never thought Akira was. He’s always strangely sure of everything, that this feels out of character. But as Goro reads them over a few more times, he comes to the conclusion that it is Akira. Somewhere underneath the hesitation. Something must’ve happened. 

 

Goro: Sure. I just finished my work. I’ll head to Leblanc. 

 

Kurusu: thanks 

Kurusu: see you soon 

 

Thanks? For what? 

Goro shakes his head. He doesn’t have time to dwell on things like this. He has to get going. 

He gets his stuff together and makes his way to Leblanc. The cafe is empty when he arrives. Akira is standing behind the counter, apron on, hands shoved in his pockets. He’s just sort of…staring, blankly, down at the floor. He doesn’t see anyone else inside, no Sakura or Morgana. 

“Kurusu?” he prompts. 

“Hm? Oh, I didn’t even hear the bell. Sorry, Akechi, come in. Shut the door.” 

Goro nods slowly, letting the door shut behind him. He isn’t really sure where to sit. Should he sit? He stands for now. 

“Shall we go upstairs?” he questions. 

“Yeah, you go on. I’ll meet you up there,” Akira promises. 

“Okay,” he agrees. 

It’s weird to step upstairs, by himself this time. Making the journey feels awkward at best, and uncomfortable at worst. 

Goro isn’t really sure what to do when he gets to the top. It’s only the third time he’s been in Akira’s room, and he once again doesn’t know what to expect from this conversation they’re going to have. If they’re going to speak at all, he actually isn’t sure. It’s certainly possible that they’ll just end up doing something together. Playing video games, like Akira said. How utterly normal. 

He should sit down. The bed is absolutely off limits. So that leaves the desk or the couch. He doesn’t think he should sit at the desk, that feels strangely personal. Akira’s laptop is there and some scattered tools. It seems like he tinkers in his spare time, Goro can see supplies around. Are those lockpicks? He supposes that makes sense. It must be for the Metaverse. Goro never considered bringing anything like that inside, he was never that torn up about some locked chests. 

Well that doesn’t really matter. He sits down on the couch. It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it’ll work. He waits for about eight minutes before he hears Akira’s footsteps coming up the stairs. 

He straightens up, glancing over. 

He sees Akira’s hair first, unruly as always. Then his face, turned downwards. Then his shoulders, tense. Then the rest of him, standing for a moment at the top unmoving. He takes such a deep breath that Goro can see it. Akira walks past him and sits at his desk, picking up some tools and starting to fiddle with them. His leg bounces. Goro made the right choice. 

“Do you like me?” Akira asks him, staring intently down at his hands. 

Something snaps, and Akira clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

“I know that you have such feelings for me, but–” Goro starts. 

“Not like that,” Akira cuts him off harshly. “I know you don’t have some-some crush on me, that’s not what I’m asking you. I love you, I don’t really care if you love me back. But do you like me? Do you even…enjoy spending time with me? Or is this just something you’re doing for information? For our-for the deal.” 

Is this some trick question? If Goro answers wrong, is that the end of all this? Could he put everything in danger right now over some juvenile question like this? 

Akira picks his head up as he stays silent, and glances over at him. 

“If you don’t, that doesn’t change anything,” Akira tells him.

Does Goro lie? He shouldn’t. He’s beginning to believe that lying to Akira doesn’t actually accomplish anything, and that Akira knows his lies as well as he knows Akira’s. The problem is he isn’t actually sure what the truth is. 

He enjoys their rivalry, and the things Akira gives him, but Akira himself? He doesn’t know. He’s never really thought about it. 

It used to be true that Akira annoyed and perplexed him. 

But he recently put everything on the line in some rash attempt to protect Akira. He thought it was out of some obligation, because Akira loved him. Maybe this is it. 

“Yes, I do enjoy your company,” he answers, surprised when it comes out truthfully. “We’re…we’re friends, aren’t we?” 

The word sounds so foreign on his tongue. When was the last time Goro Akechi had a friend, of all things? It seems childish, honestly. 

Yet, it’s also true. They have become close. The only word Goro can find that describes their current relationship is friends. Even if it makes him feel silly. 

“Yes. We are. I’m your friend,” Akira confirms. 

Goro nods. He’s relieved that Akira agreed with that. He would’ve been humiliated otherwise. 

“Right. Now, I believe you suggested some video games?” 

Goro is starting to crave Akira’s presence. He begins to look forward to when they’re able to spend time together, as something that helps him get through his long weeks. Akira’s coffee and his eyes and smile and just all of him. Goro hates it. That he’s gotten so attached. This can only ever end in tragedy, he knows that. He still can’t seem to help himself. 

 

Goro: I’m alone right now. Done with all my tasks today. 

Goro: If you’re free too, we could meet up. 

 

Akira doesn’t text him back right away, which isn’t too strange for him. Akira has his own life, and Goro gathers that often when he appears to be missing for a little while, he’s probably in the Metaverse. Thankfully, Akira gets back to him within half an hour. 

 

Kurusu: just got back to leblanc 

Kurusu: do you wanna come watch a movie? 

Kurusu: ive seen it before but i like it 

 

Goro: Agreeable. I’m on my way. 

 

In these last two weeks or so, Goro thinks things have grown to the point that he is unable to cut them entirely out. He could do his best to cut back and manage the situation, but there’s no going back entirely to how things were. He’s well past that point. 

Akira already has his coffee waiting by the time he gets in. Rather than drinking it downstairs like he usually does, he picks it up and brings it upstairs. He makes his way towards the couch, but Akira stops him with a simple hum in the back of his throat. 

“I actually have it downloaded on my laptop. The quality might be pretty shitty, but we can sit in my bed and watch it that way. I don’t think it’ll be comfortable at my desk,” Akira corrects. 

Oh god. Alright. Alright. 

“Alright,” Goro says. 

He only hesitates for a second after Akira gets in bed, sliding all the way towards the wall. Then he takes his shoes off and sits beside Akira. He keeps his posture rigid, unlike Akira who immediately relaxes and hits play. 

The movie is good. Goro isn’t really paying attention to it. It’s all rather overwhelming, between his coffee and Akira’s bed and the point of contact between them. It’s not on purpose, Goro doesn’t think. He has no idea if Akira is even aware that their arms are brushing every so often. Probably not. It doesn’t seem like something that would be a big deal to Akira. 

By the time the movie is over, Shido’s words are starting to haunt Goro. He needs to tell Akira, but he isn’t quite ready to go that far. He shouldn’t tell Akira, in all honesty. He should keep it from the boy, this plan and all that goes along with it. He only made this deal with the intention of eventually stabbing Akira in the back. But he’s starting to think that that’s not how this is going to go after all. 

It’s too…Goro doesn’t want to lose Akira. 

Akira shuts his laptop. 

“You need to stop this,” Goro whispers in the silence after. 

“We’ve talked about this, Akechi.” 

“Why do you even call me that, anyway?” Goro scoffs. “You’re literally in love with me. You’ve called me Goro before. Who are you fooling?” 

Akira looks hurt, for just a moment. And then his eyes are dull. But he doesn’t speak, he doesn’t lie. He just gets that look on his face, the mixture between exhaustion and love. The look he gives Goro a lot. 

“Just stop,” Goro sighs. 

“Goro, I told you. I can’t stop. If I let it, the world will burn to nothing by the end of the year. And I can’t just abandon that, what I’m doing and setting into motion. It’s too important,” Akira argues. 

Goro never should’ve brought up what Akira calls him. Hearing his given name from Akira’s lips makes his chest tight. It’s painful. 

Goro doesn’t care about the world. So what if it ends? He cares about Akira. 

“Are you sure? You won’t consider it?” Goro asks. 

Akira shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Shido’s plan is pretty troubling, but it isn’t anything that Goro wasn’t expecting. 

When he tells Akira, he doesn’t seem surprised either. Not even when Goro gets to the part where he’s meant to kill Akira. He doesn’t even blink. He doesn’t look scared for even a second. 

They’re sitting in Akira’s bedroom again. Goro has gotten used to the space. Comfortable in it, even. Akira sits at his desk, making lockpicks. Goro sits on Akira’s bed, his shoes discarded by the stairs, and he has one of his legs pulled up underneath him. If he could’ve told himself at the beginning of all this that this is what he’d be like at this point, he’s sure past him would’ve run far away from Akira Kurusu. But it’s a bit late for that now. There’s no stopping this anymore, not really. And he’s already decided just to lean into it. 

Sunk cost fallacy and all that.

“It’ll be fine,” Akira is saying. “We’ll make our own plan, alright? We can’t steal Medjed’s heart, but we’re going to steal Futaba Sakura’s instead. She’ll help us with the threat, I know you said it doesn’t actually matter, but I can’t tell that to the team without giving you away. So that’s how our end is. Right now it’s a bit of a waiting game.” 

Futaba Sakura…

Goro doesn’t comment on it. He figures Akira already knows. It’s this interesting thing, his assumptions about what Akira knows. The thing is that he has no real proof or indication of what Akira knows. Most of the time he just figures that there’s no need to tell Akira any of the smaller details, and leaves them out. It should put him in a situation where he and Akira constantly misunderstand one another. Yet, he hasn’t once been proven wrong for it. It seems what Akira said really is true, even the things Goro thinks he couldn’t possibly know–he still knows. 

It cuts out a lot of bullshit between them at least, and gives them more time for things that are more important. The fact that it doesn’t make any sense, well that’s not relevant. 

Things being possible or impossible, that all bends around Akira. It’s like he can change the fabric of the universe to suit his needs. Goro has fundamentally changed how he sees things in order to cope with Akira being in his life. He had to. Otherwise he would’ve long since lost his mind. 

In all other senses, something can be impossible, but be made possible by Akira. There’s no more solid line drawn, but rather something of a barrier that Akira alone seems to simply be able to walk through as if it isn’t even there. Goro feels like it’s solid, as he imagines most other people do, and can’t walk through it. But those rules just don’t apply to Akira. As long as he just accepts it and doesn’t really question it, it makes things much easier on him. And right now, making anything in his life easier is an invaluable skill. Everything is very out of his control right now, as he waits on Shido and Akira’s moves. 

“Wouldn’t it be fastest to steal Shido’s heart? I can’t imagine it isn’t what you’re planning on doing eventually,” Goro says. 

He shifts position, pulling himself further onto the bed so he can get his back up against the wall. It’s a relief from the persistent ache he’s been feeling. Akira turns in his chair, smiling when he catches sight of Goro reclined in his bed. Goro is surprised he hasn’t done anything further after his confession. Perhaps he isn’t interested in actually dating. But Goro finds that hard to believe, and very unlikely. 

Goro wonders if maybe Akira is expecting Goro to make the first move, if he’s just waiting for reciprocation of some kind. Goro did say that he wasn’t interested, but he always thought Akira was the sort of person to try to “win him over” or something like that. But he hasn’t. 

Well at the end of the day, that doesn’t really matter. There’s much more important things on the line, and besides, Goro still knows that Akira is keeping things from him. And as long as that remains true, Goro doesn’t want to start something he can’t finish. He’s very unlike Akira in that way, it seems.

“My team isn’t ready for that,” Akira eventually responds. 

“Truly?” Goro tilts his head.

Akira shows no signs of lying, but Goro just finds it hard to believe. They’ve really taken down some big fish at this point, and Goro just sort of assumes Akira is on the same level he is. If they’re matched in every other way, this shouldn’t be an exception. 

He just gets that feeling in his chest, the one that tells him Loki agrees with him. This is someone worthy to stand beside him.  

“Yes. And I can’t go without them, we have an agreement,” Akira explains. 

“But you are planning to, eventually?” Goro confirms. 

“Yes. He can’t go unchecked forever, but right now my team simply isn’t there yet. We focus on Medjed for now, and then it’ll be Okumura, right?” 

Goro shudders. He didn’t technically name who the target would be that the Phantom Thieves would take the blame for killing. He mentioned it as a detail in Shido’s plan, but not the specifics. But it’s Akira, so he isn’t taken aback by him knowing. It’s still a little off-putting. 

Sometimes Akira creeps him out with his unending knowledge. Goro has burned out a lot of his fear, but this remains—this terror at being watched and known. 

Akira sees him too much, too deeply. 

“Right,” he confirms, though there’s no need. 

“And after that, we’ll be busy trying to pick up the pieces.” Akira snaps rhythmically, tipping his chair back slightly. “Namely, through Sae’s Palace which should be done forming by then. So it only makes sense to put it off anyway, doesn’t it? Believe me, if I could get it done any sooner, it would already be taken care of.” 

“So, you could do it yourself?” Goro asks. 

It seems to be what Akira is implying. 

“I didn’t say that,” Akira dismisses. 

He’s looking up towards the ceiling, but when Goro clicks his tongue in displeasure, he levels his gaze to meet Goro’s once again. 

“But you think you could?” Goro presses.

Akira sighs. There’s a slight hint of annoyance on his face which he doesn’t try to hide. He thinks for a second, licking and then biting his lip. By the time his bottom lip is free of his teeth, he seems to have come up with his answer. Goro does his best to pretend like he wasn’t staring when Akira speaks, “Yes. I do think so.”

From anyone else, it may sound rather arrogant. But to Goro, it seems like Akira is simply telling him the truth as he knows it. And if Akira says so, Goro believes it’s true. 

“You don’t because…of this deal you made with your teammates?” Goro rolls his eyes. “That seems a little ridiculous.” 

“It’s just how I am. They trust me, I don’t want to—“

“I get that and all, well I don’t, but that’s how you are. Yes. And yet, aren’t you already betraying them by telling your every move to the detective whose sole purpose is to take you down? I’d think that’s a much bigger transgression than quietly taking care of a problem for them, if you’re capable of it,” Goro points out. 

“It’s different,” Akira argues.

“How?” Goro challenges. 

They’ve been having these little differences of opinion lately. Arguments, if they can really be called that. There’s never any yelling or throwing things or real fighting, they just sometimes end up here. Snipping at each other. Arguing, he supposes. Goro isn’t very fond of it, whatever it really is. It seems every time that the reason they’re having such disagreements is because of whatever Akira is keeping from him. It’s like Goro is trying to navigate around some huge, invisible, gap in his puzzle. He has the pieces, he’s sure of that. Akira hasn’t hidden them from him, but rather controlled the way he gave them out such that Goro doesn’t quite understand all of the pieces. 

It’s infuriating. It leaves him irritable at times. Maybe that’s why they keep ending up here. 

Goro can’t stand not knowing. 

“To be honest, they would know it was me if I changed Shido’s heart. They have no way of knowing what I’m telling you when we meet up. It comes down to what lies I can versus can’t tell to them,” Akira admits. 

Why? Why does Akira so easily lie to everyone else in this world? Even his beloved teammates. Yet not Goro. 

It can’t be as simple as loving him. Akira certainly loves his teammates, friends, and other confidants in some way. Not the same way, but Goro believes that’s just because Akira has a different kind of love for everyone he meets. He’s never gotten the sense that Akira loves him more than everyone else. So Akira’s love for him can’t be the only reason, maybe it’s one, but there has to be more to it. But without more context, he just can’t know for certain. 

That’s how he often feels. 

Akira makes him feel like he’s always just trying to keep his head above water. He struggles to stay on the same playing field as Akira, and he both hates and adores it. He’s never had to struggle to stay equals with someone. Either they were equals or they weren’t. But Akira is always challenging him, raising the stakes. They are friends, but they haven’t stopped being rivals. Not at all. 

“We could go in together. We don’t have to change his heart, I could just kill him. I’ve been meaning to do that,” Goro mentions offhand. 

He doesn’t truly mean it. Well, he does, but he highly doubts that Akira is going to agree to it. It’s not really why he says it. He’s just digging his heels in, so that the force of Akira doesn’t topple him. 

But when he catches Akira’s eyes, the longing in them is so intense that he has to look away. He doesn’t quite shudder this time, but he can feel how goosebumps raise on his arms even underneath his layers of clothes. He has to avert his eyes for a moment to gather himself. 

“You don’t mean that,” Goro tells him. 

He shivers at the thought. He needs to get it together. Akira wouldn’t actually go along with that. This is all explainable some other way. 

“I guess I don’t,” Akira says. 

Goro purposefully doesn’t look at him. He is hesitant to know the truth. If Akira is lying, he’d rather not face that. Even if it might help him with his puzzle, there are some things that are more important. He’s unsure when Akira’s image, his morals, became so important to him. 

Although it seems like Akira does things for a much more complicated reason than simply morals, he still is a good person deep down. No matter what Akira says about being a hero or not, that is what he’s doing. Everything he does is to save people, so call it what he wants, Akira is a hero. 

Akira is like his North Star right now. Something for him to look to so he can figure out where he is. Where he’s going. It’s leading him off his beaten path, so he’s been staying on the outskirts as much as he can. He’s not quite ready to step all the way off yet. 

The idea that Akira might want to be on this path with him is laughable. Unbelievable. Of course he doesn’t. This is Akira they’re talking about. 

“I’m sorry. It must have startled you,” Akira murmurs. “I didn’t mean it. Sometimes I just wish I did.” 

Goro forces himself to look towards the truth even if he doesn’t want to. He feels a deep sense of relief when he sees Akira’s lit up eyes boring a hole in him. 

His North Star burns bright. 

“No, it’s quite alright. We cross that bridge when we get there. Right now, let’s focus on damage control,” Goro commands. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Let me tell you more about Futaba Sakura’s skills.” 

Akira Kurusu loves him. It’s become something stable and constant in his life. A fact which he can count on. Something that won’t change underneath him and send him stumbling or falling. Goro thinks he’s starting to lean rather heavily on it, actually. He isn’t sure what might happen if it isn’t as sturdy as he believes, but…he just doesn’t think he’s wrong to do so. For as much as Akira has always understood him, Goro is finally starting to understand Akira back. 

At first, Goro thought there were a lot of lies that made Akira up. False walls which gave way to more false walls. He thought that Akira was just like him, that eventually he’d get to some sort of center. To the truth. He thought he was getting closer to the real Akira, but somewhere along the way he realized that it was all Akira. Peeling back the layers was learning more, not getting any closer to some…one, pure, version of the boy. At his core, Akira is someone who acts solely on love. Wherever that may take him, he’ll go. It doesn’t scare him, because love makes him brave. 

Akira is everything Goro has always wanted to be. 

It’s Wednesday. but Goro didn’t send a text to Akira on purpose. He’s tucked into one of the alleys to smoke a cigarette before he goes to the Jazz Jin. He just doesn’t want to see Akira today. He’s trying to put some distance between them. 

Akira makes him confused. And scattered. And impulsive. And stupid. Akira makes him some different version of himself that Goro is beginning to hate. In the moment, it isn’t so bad. But then when he comes to his senses afterwards, he can see how dangerous it is. Akira is sending everything toppling. He worked so hard to get here, he can’t just give it all up. 

Goro needs to get ahold of himself before this fucking weed starts choking everything else. He raises his cigarette to his mouth with a shaking hand, sucking in the smoke until it all burns. It makes him feel better. But it also makes his stomach hurt. It’s a trade he’s willing to make right now. 

His phone buzzes. 

 

Kurusu: if you want company im at the jazz jin 

Kurusu: have a table for us 

Kurusu: and i will pay 

 

Goro sighs. Of course. He wishes Akira realized he doesn’t want to be bothered today. Maybe he has, and he just doesn’t care. That sounds about right. 

He isn’t really sure what he wants to do. Well, he knows exactly what he wants to do. He really wants to see Akira right now. He’s so weak. 

He shouldn't give in. He can’t think of a worse decision to make right now, but at the same time he can’t seem to deny himself. He feeds the craving, waters the plant, etc. 

 

Goro: I’m nearby. I'll be in shortly. 

 

He probably still smells an awful lot like smoke, but he can’t bring himself to be bothered about that at the moment. He’s sure that like everything else, Akira knows that he smokes. Akira knows everything. 

He’d still rather not confirm it directly, but there’s really no use trying to hide it. 

When he walks into the Jazz Jin, there’s a moment where he considers walking right out. Akira is sitting down at their usual table, talking to Muhen. Akira says something that Goro can’t hear over the general chatter inside the restaurant, and Muhen tips his head back and laughs. 

If there is anyone in this world Goro would consider his confidant, it would be Muhen. Although their relationship isn’t much more than surface level, Goro enjoys it. 

What he feels right now isn’t jealousy, but rather…

If Muhen likes Akira, that means something to him. But also it can’t mean anything. Akira can’t mean anything to him, but it seems like he doesn’t really have much control over that. Against his wishes, Goro has grown to truly care for Akira. 

Maybe if he just walks away, he can somehow become blind to what’s going on. To the fact that he’s walking further and further into the unknown. Into a situation where he may become unable to do what must be done. 

Goro walks over to the table and sits down. 

“Hello Kurusu,” he greets. “And Muhen-san.” 

Muhen grins at the two of them, something weirdly knowing in that smile. 

“I’ll get you two your drinks,” he promises, walking away from the table nearly immediately. 

Goro is surprised, normally Muhen likes to chat with him at least a little bit. Maybe Akira said something to him. Well, not really important right now. 

“Did you already order for us?” Goro asks. 

Akira nods, smiling softly. It makes Goro feel like something is being kept from him, but he’s trying not to linger on it. 

“We get the same thing every time,” Akira points out. 

“True. But maybe I really like ordering,” Goro retorts. 

“Do you?” 

Goro shakes his head. 

“Then I suppose I did everything right,” Akira laughs. 

“Don’t get an ego on me,” Goro scoffs. 

“I would never.” 

Goro rolls his eyes. 

Secretly, he doesn’t think Akira has an ego at all. Actually, he gets the sense that Akira has very low self esteem, and that all of his confidence is simply false bravado. Still, it’s just one of those things that he doesn’t bring up. That stays unspoken between them. 

“How are things?” Goro asks, trying to keep his voice light. 

He doesn’t want to give away the severity of what they’re really talking about, not in public, but he’d also really like an idea of what’s going on. 

Last he heard, the Phantom Thieves were infiltrating Futaba Sakura’s Palace. Selfishly, he’d like to know more about that. He feels guilty that he hasn’t been keeping tabs on her over the years. Whether that’s because it seems she’s become a threat, or because Goro killed her mother, he doesn’t really know. Does it really matter? 

“Good. Futaba is resting,” Akira answers. 

So, they already stole her heart. It must’ve been a quiet affair, then. Goro didn’t hear anything about it, that’s for sure. He wasn’t aware the Phantom Thieves were capable of doing anything subtly.

“It went well?” Goro prods. 

“Yes. It wasn’t easy, it never is. But she’s okay now, that’s what matters,” Akira hums. 

Goro just nods. There’s nothing he can say in this situation that’s really appropriate. He has no right to comment on this at all. 

“Alright,” he says. 

There’s a few moments between them of silence. Muhen comes over and drops off the drinks personally. He doesn’t say anything to them either, so their silence continues. 

Akira takes a sip of his drink, then tilts his head at Goro. 

“Is it difficult for you to hear about? Would you rather we talk about something else?” Akira questions. 

Goro presses his lips together. He has no idea how to put into words how he feels about all this. When he killed Wakaba all those years ago…he never expected she would haunt him to this extent. 

“How has school been going for you?” Goro changes the subject. 

At first, based on the look on Akira’s face, Goro doesn’t think he’ll be rewarded with such a change. Akira can see right through him, that much is incredibly obvious. 

“Now that Kamoshida is gone, it’s fine. I find that I get pretty bored, but it’s fine. So, overall, fine,” Akira drones. 

He gets this bored look on his face, and his voice gets this tone to it, like he’s repeating something he’s said a million times already. 

Goro feels uncomfortable suddenly. Like this strange, disjointed conversation they’re having doesn’t suit them at all. He’s asked the wrong question, and now he has a version of Akira he doesn’t like. One that feels far away and somewhat like a lie.

“Sorry. I don’t really care about that,” Goro admits. “When we finish with our drinks, do you want to get out of here?” 

Akira’s eyes brighten. Goro hadn’t even noticed them becoming dull. 

“Yes. Yes, that sounds…it sounds good. Thank you. I’m sorry, I’m very distracted today. I just need to get a handle on myself,” Akira rambles.  

“No, it’s alright,” Goro says slowly. 

The anxiety he’s reading in Akira is new. Maybe it isn’t anxiety, restlessness? He isn’t sure, but whatever it is, it’s not something he would expect to see out of the other boy. He always seems so sure. Even if Akira isn’t the most confident person, he at least knows things and he knows that he knows. It isn’t exactly confidence that it creates, but just a sense of...Goro doesn’t know. But he doesn’t see it in Akira right now. It’s strange. 

“What do you want to do? We might have enough time to hit Penguin Sniper or something, but I’m not sure,” Akira sighs. 

Yet again, Akira’s tone just sounds like he’s reading from a script. Goro’s heart pounds. 

For some reason, this feels really important. Like he can change something about the situation if he can drag Akira out of the depths of this strange funk he’s in. Change what in what situation, Goro honestly couldn’t say. But he gets the urge nonetheless. 

“What if we just get on the train and go somewhere?” Goro pitches. 

Akira opens his mouth, then closes it. He bites his lip, giving Goro this look that he hasn’t seen before. He thinks it’s surprise. 

“Yes,” Akira blurts. “Let’s go right now.” 

Akira puts money down on the table and stands up, immediately walking out towards the door. Goro lets out a short laugh, then gets up and goes after him. When he steps outside chasing Akira’s heels, he notices it’s pouring rain. 

“I didn’t think there was any rain on the forecast,” Goro comments. 

“There wasn’t,” Akira giggles, staring out at it. “Wow, it’s so beautiful.” 

“I don’t suppose you have an umbrella on you,” he sighs. 

“Nope! Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little rain? It’s just water, Goro, come on!” 

Goro opens his mouth to tell Akira not to call him that. It’s what he should do. Akira is getting much closer than he ever anticipated or wanted. Letting Akira use his given name is a bad idea. 

But Akira looks so happy. He’s never seen Akira this happy before, smiling this widely, or by god giggling. He can’t bring himself to ruin this. 

That’s not a good sign. 

“My clothes,” Goro protests weakly.

“I’ll buy you new ones, please? Let’s make a run for the train station,” Akira begs. 

“Race you,” Goro challenges, then takes off into the downpour. 

“Goro! You’re such a cheater!” 

He runs. He doesn’t actually know the last time he ran full force like this for…for fun? He’s run for his life many times in the Metaverse. That, he’s used to. Racing Akira through the rain? Hearing his laughter behind him? 

It’s what pushes him to keep sprinting faster, as if maybe he can outrun what’s happening to him. As he focuses on his feet hitting the ground and the feeling of the rain hitting his face, he can pretend like he is just running for his life. 

By the time he gets to the train station, he’s soaked to the bone and freezing. Akira is only a step behind him, stumbling as he comes to a sudden stop. As he loses his balance, he wraps his arms around one of Goro’s, pressing himself so close that Goro can feel his heart beat against his shoulder. 

Goro feels his entire self light up in response to Akira. 

“Fuck, fuck! It’s cold! Holy shit! Fuck!” Akira whines, but he’s still grinning ear to ear. 

Goro didn’t know Akira had such a foul mouth. He doesn't know if he’s ever heard the other boy swear this much before. He feels like something has come down between them, some wall Akira had up that Goro didn’t notice. 

Goro should shove him off and insist that Akira stop this. Stop pretending like they’re…

Goro takes a deep breath in. 

“This was your idea,” he accuses, turning his head to catch Akira’s eyes. 

“You act like you didn’t agree,” Akira retorts, still right up in his face, words spilling fast and uncontrolled out of him. “You’re just as bad as me. You just hide your impulsivity better than me, but I know you Goro Akechi, and you’re one hotheaded bastard. Because tell me you want to go home right now. You can’t. You love this!”

Akira’s relentless teasing has Goro’s cheeks hot. Once again, he feels a deep embarrassment and fear at how deeply Akira knows him. How personally. 

Akira’s eyes flick down to Goro’s lips. He doesn’t miss it. Not for a moment has he looked away from Akira. He’s getting sucked into that gravity, he can feel it. 

That’s why he catches it. At first, he thinks that Akira is going to kiss him. It certainly seems to be what he wants to do. That longing on his face is obvious, it gives him away.

But then he looks back at Goro’s eyes, and his smile drops. Not entirely, just a fraction of it, such a miniscule change that if Goro were paying any less attention; he would’ve missed it. 

“Where do you want to go?” Akira prompts him. 

The moment is carefully plucked out, Akira acting as if it never happened at all. Goro can’t help but wonder how many times such a thing has happened without him noticing. 

Would he have kissed him back?

He swallows, suddenly feeling nauseous. 

“Let’s get on the next train,” Goro says. “I hear one approaching, if we run we might be able to catch it.” 

He breaks away from Akira, but only to take off down the hall. He slips slightly and nearly falls on his ass, but as Akira catches up to him, he grabs Goro by the wrist. As Goro is tugged along, he trips more than ever, but he doesn’t pull his arm away. 

They barely slip through the doors moments before they close. The train is relatively empty, aside from some people who Goro assumes are coming home late from work. The two of them still don’t take seats, as they hold onto the same pole, steadily dripping water onto the floor. Goro’s pinky is only about an inch away from where Akira’s hand rests. If he moved ever so slightly, they would brush. 

Maybe he could test something. 

Goro pretends to lose his balance slightly, sliding his hand down on the pole until it rests slightly over Akira’s own. He can feel Akira’s body warmth even through his gloves, and it sends electric currents up his spine. 

He has to take a few deep breaths as his heart begins to pound in his chest. He hopes he doesn’t have a panic attack. It’s like Akira being near, touching him, it turns on all the lights in Goro’s body. It’s been dark in there for so long that seeing everything so clearly is making him feel…like this. 

Does Goro love Akira? Is that what this feeling is? 

“Sorry,” Goro chokes out, straightening himself up and moving his hand away from Akira. 

He tries not to notice the brief flicker of disappointment in Akira’s eyes. It’s not worth noting. 

They end up in a park. It’s absolutely flooded even though the rain has stopped. 

“This is near Yongen-Jaya,” Akira tells him, hopping over puddles. 

The grace he does it with, not even slipping on the mud a single time, is honestly impressive. Goro warily looks at the obstacle course laid out before him, then slips his socks and shoes off. He leaves them on the sidewalk near the park, then walks barefoot into the mud. He initially shivers at the sensation of it, but then the feeling of the earth under him becomes grounding. He purposefully steps into a puddle on his way towards the swings. That’s where Akira already is, pumping his legs slowly so that he sways slightly back and forth rather than fully swinging. 

Goro has no doubt that that’ll change once he’s caught up. Even the cuffs of his jeans are dirty. He’ll figure all that out later though, it’s much too late to do anything about it. 

“That’s a relief. I don’t exactly want to get on another train looking like this,” Goro responds, gingerly sitting on the swing next to Akira. 

He winces as the water immediately soaks through his pants. He’ll have to clean up there somehow. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it, though. 

“Yeah I’ll help you out,” Akira assures him. 

He starts pumping his legs harder, quickly gaining momentum. Goro watches him, more just using his swing for a chair. He wraps his arm around the chain to the side of him, resting his cheek against the cool metal. He just watches Akira like that for a while. 

As Akira has gotten to the absolute limits of how high this swing will take him, making the whole structure shake slightly, he jumps. He gets to the apex of his swing, and lets himself fly off it. He’s in the air for a moment, then drops to the muddy ground. He gets absolutely covered, and the fall must have hurt, but he lays there laughing. 

He flips over, starfished, like he’s about to make some sort of mud angel. But he doesn’t move, just keeps laughing. 

“I love this!” Akira shouts into the air. “I love you!” 

Goro wonders just what has Akira so distracted today, that he’s letting so much slip. It’s out of character for him, to be so unfocused. 

He opens his mouth. He wants to say something. He isn’t sure what, but his jaw hangs open limply for some time. Akira is back to giggling. 

He forces his mouth closed and pretends like he wasn’t paying attention. 

Every time he blinks, he sees Akira flying through the air. 

Goro’s unfortunate plan has come to this; he goes to the bathhouse with Akira and borrows some of his clothes so he can wash his dirty ones at the laundromat next door. Then he stays with Akira until they’re done, changes back into them, and goes home. He has work tomorrow, he needs these clothes and he needs them clean. And in this state, he absolutely cannot go out into public. There’s no better plan, really there’s no other option at all. 

It’s absolutely the last place Goro wants to be right now. Doing his best to keep eye contact with Akira in the bath and not let his eyes wander. 

That at least distracts him from the worst of it. From the barely held back wall of memories suffering to break and drown him immediately. He has his knees pulled up to his chest. The stringy feeling of his wet hair brushing his shoulders is starting to really get to him. It reminds him of late nights in the bathhouse as a child. Of his mother. 

He wonders if Akira thinks he’s stupid. From the outside, his plan is convoluted and petty. He knows that better than anyone. It’s not a good plan, not at all. 

He isn’t sure what pushes him to speak. 

“I know my revenge might seem convoluted. It was supposed to be for my mom,” Goro says. 

He can tell from the look on Akira’s face that somehow he knows this, too. It makes him scoff. Why bother telling Akira anything at this point? If he knows it already. Maybe he should just start keeping his mouth shut. 

“I’m sorry,” Akira apologizes softly. “I know it must be very frustrating. But I’d like to hear it from you anyway, if you don’t mind telling me.”

“How? How can you know?” Goro whispers. 

It just doesn’t make any sense. Some things are explainable, some things Akira could uncover given enough time and resources, as long as he knew where to look. But this, this personal detail, how could Akira know? Is it a mixture of research and knowing Goro intimately? It’s just not fair. It makes Goro feel sick, that Akira knows this. 

Nobody knows this. 

“It’s really complicated. Alright? I just, I can’t tell you. It would jeopardize too much, it would be too much of a risk. If I lose all the progress we’ve made just to satisfy your curiosity, it would be stupid. I’d have to…” Akira shakes his head. 

“That’s not what it’s about. My curiosity? Do you think so little of me?” 

Akira turns away, although it doesn’t seem like it’s because he’s going to lie for once. He’s silent. There’s this…stony, far-away look on his face, like he’s neutralized his feelings in order to think. Goro has no idea what’s going on inside his head. 

Goro hugs his knees harder. 

Akira eventually seems to come to a decision. His eyes harden, then he turns back to face Goro. 

“I’ve been thinking about this in terms of what could happen if I tell you. The things it could affect and change, and what it might do to the future. It’s hard to put into words just how hefty this decision really is for me. It’s world-altering, really. It’s not just about me, and it isn’t something I take lightly, but you also aren’t something I take lightly. So I’d like you to tell me what it’s like for you that I don’t tell you. That I’ve been keeping it from you. I’m not looking at the whole picture, I’m not valuing your experience. So, help me understand,” Akira requests. 

Alright. 

Akira is taking this seriously, so, Goro doesn’t answer right away. He thinks about it first. 

On the surface, the most superficial reason is just that Goro does really want to know. Not knowing has been nagging him, and he’s desperate to keep putting this puzzle together. As it is right now, he can’t make any progress. If Akira gives him more information, he might even finish the thing. Is it just that? 

No. 

It isn’t. 

“You ask me to trust you,” Goro says, nodding as he stares into the water below him. “I want to. I have chosen to trust you on many occasions now. Trusting you so far has only done me good. Over and over again you’ve told me things that, if I were in your position, I never would’ve so much as considered telling you. I appreciate that, I really do. But I feel like I hold back. Just a little bit, in every part of our relationship. Because this secret you still hold from me, this thing you think you can’t tell me, it could be anything. Anything in the world. It could change everything. I think actually, we’re in the exact same position.” 

Goro twirls a strand of his damp hair around his finger. It’s a nervous habit he had when he was a kid. He doesn’t remember the last time he did it. Something he erased on the way to becoming who he is now. Akira has a way of bringing these forgotten things out of him. 

“I can’t ask you to tell me. You can’t ask me to forget about it. Both are heavy, weighted decisions. Things that could change not just our relationship, but the reality we live in. You have always been the one to give in first, in these cases. To tell me what you shouldn’t. This time…I can’t ask that of you. You tell me only if it is what you desire in your heart, if it’s what you believe to be best,” Goro decides. 

Akira looks at him with an expression that Goro has never seen on his face before. It’s like, a clarity of some kind. But it’s strange, Goro had never noticed any cloudiness to Akira before, but now it seems so obvious that it was there. Shrouding the other boy. 

Now it’s gone. 

The shroud flickers over Akira’s face a few more times, then fully leaves. It’s like clear skies. 

“I appreciate that. I still…I don’t think I can tell you. Not yet. I’m really sorry,” Akira says. 

His voice wavers slightly, then Goro notices that his eyes are shiny. There’s such relief in them. 

“That’s perfectly fine,” Goro assures him. “I don’t want to hear an apology. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I know you’ll tell me if I need to know.”

“Really, thank you. Thank you, Goro.” 

They leave the bathhouse together, Goro blushing the entire time he puts on some of Akira’s spare clothes. They’re a little small on him, but it’s only while his clothes are in the wash. He keeps telling himself that as he leans against one of the empty dryers in the laundromat. 

The unfamiliar smell of the clothes on him makes his shoulders tense. He feels stupid dressed in some of Akira’s lounge clothes and his gloves, but he’s too afraid of brushing against Akira’s bare skin. Akira is standing next to him, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. The rain has started up again, though it’s much calmer now. The soft noise of it outside is actually rather comforting. 

In the relative quiet, Goro allows his mind to wander. 

Does he love Akira? He glances over at the boy. 

There was that moment on the train that sparked this. But that could’ve been anything. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He knows Akira loves him. Maybe he’s just making up something that isn’t really there. Trying to reciprocate and copy something from someone he cares about. He’s done that plenty of times. Had to check himself and determine whether his feelings were really his own. He’s always imitated the people around him, like that’ll make him appear more normal. And it typically worked. 

He’s attracted to Akira. Akira is absolutely gorgeous, so that doesn’t surprise him. He has eyes. He sort of assumes most people agree with him. 

That must be it. He cares about Akira dearly as a–well, as a friend, he supposes. And he finds Akira attractive. He’s just confusing those things for love. But there’s more to love than care and attraction, and whatever that extra thing may be, he isn’t feeling it. So, no. He isn’t in love with Akira. 

That’s relieving. 

“You’re staring at me,” Akira points out. 

“Yeah. Just zoning out,” Goro dismisses. 

It’s not quite a lie. Akira nods, which he takes to mean that he’s been believed. Or at least given a pass. 

When his clothes are done, Goro makes sure to leave in a hurry. 

Although Goro still doesn’t actually know what Akira is keeping from him, there’s something that changes between them. Some sense of understanding which makes Goro feel a lot more relaxed. Everything is complicated right now, and busy, and it certainly isn’t easy. But still, there is one part of his life that’s constant and comforting. 

Akira loves him. 

Even if he doesn’t feel the same, that doesn’t really matter to him. The fact that there’s someone in this world who really, truly loves him means a lot to him. 

They’re playing darts so that they can talk. Whenever they spend their time together playing chess or billiards, they often limit their speaking to passing quips at each other. They’re both too focused on the competition of it all, on beating each other, to chat during it. 

But darts, that’s different. They play the exact same game of darts every time. Neither of them miss, so. It’s basically autopilot. 

“I finally finished helping Ohya out, though she still messages me on occasion. I imagine she wishes I asked her out, but you know, I don’t like her. And she’s too old for me,” Akira hums. “Besides, she still believes we’re together, so she should just let it go.” 

They were talking about the media and such, and somehow ended up talking about that reporter Goro met a while ago. He’s annoyed to learn that she’s still bothering Akira. Maybe he could do something about her…would Akira be upset if she turned up dead? Should he ask? 

“Do people bother you like that often? Have you–you been asked out by anyone here?” Goro asks. 

Why did he ask that? What the fuck is he even saying? He’s horrified. 

“Oh. Well, yeah, sort of. But I always turn them down since, you know. They don’t know me, not really. And I’m, um, in love with you, so,” Akira answers, tossing his three darts. 

They all stick in the triple 20 spot, as always. 

Goro’s stomach twists. Is he jealous? What the fuck is wrong with him lately? Ever since the bathhouse he’s been struggling with his goddamn self control. Which he needs to have much more of if he’s going to make it through this. When Akira steps away from the board and Goro steps up, their arms brush. Goro’s heart leaps into his throat. Still, he hits his three bullseyes without any trouble. 

But this isn’t good. Whatever is going on here, it’s getting worse. Goro’s getting…possessive? Is that what this is? 

Akira is his friend. He kind of doesn’t want anyone else near him. Nobody else knows Akira, not really. He said so himself. 

Did that include Goro? Can’t have. It’s not true, and Akira doesn’t lie. Not to Goro. 

No one deserves Akira. Not even Goro. 

“Well just tell them you’re with me too,” Goro offers. “It doesn’t bother me.” 

“I–I’m not sure that’s the part that I’m worried about. It sounds like maybe, it could put us in some awkward situations. And even if you don’t mind, it–it would probably hurt me to pretend we’re something we’re not.” Akira turns and smiles bitterly at him. “I appreciate your offering though, that’s sweet of you.”

Goro swallows all the embarrassment and ugliness inside of him. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be pretend,” he blurts. 

What? No. No, he decided that he wasn’t in love with Akira. That isn’t what’s going on here. This is just…he’s just losing control over himself. Things are so out of order and he’s so lost, he’s just grabbing onto the nearest thing. That happens to be Akira. 

Beautiful, enchanting, clever Akira. He’s throwing darts at the wall, and this is the biggest, easiest target. 

“You don’t mean that,” Akira sighs. 

Goro nods slowly. 

“I guess I don’t,” he sounds out. 

It tastes weird. Is he lying? He doesn’t think so. But maybe that isn’t the truth. 

Maybe he’s…he’s not lying, he’s just wrong. 

Goro shakes his head firmly. 

“I don’t,” he repeats, firmer. “Sorry. I’m not quite sure what came over me.” 

“It’s alright. Just, please don’t say things you don’t mean. Spare my heart, if you don’t mind.” 

Goro’s been smoking more. He’s nervous a lot of the time. Something he’s been keeping from Akira despite the obvious fact that he must know already. He’s ashamed. 

Shido is suspicious of him, he thinks. Even though he’s supposed to be getting close to Akira, he’s worried the man is starting to notice just how close, and just how real. 

He isn’t sure though. And he doesn’t pull away from Akira either way, he figures it would be worse if he did. It would prove his guilt in a way. He’s careful not to make any sudden moves. 

“You’re thinking pretty hard,” Akira comments. 

Goro turns to him. 

They’ve been sitting on Akira’s bed. They started on some chairs by the TV to play a video game together, but that quickly became uncomfortable. They moved up here instead, and now Akira is watching something on his phone. Goro thought he completely checked out, he sometimes does that when he gets too absorbed with something. 

Their arms are pressed together, just a little bit. A tiny point of contact that’s warm between them. When Goro turns to face Akira, their faces are close. 

For a second, he wonders what might happen if he just decided to kiss him. Then, he puts the thought out of his mind. That’s completely irrelevant. 

This…obsession he has with Akira is getting out of control. 

“I’m always thinking,” Goro says. 

“Yeah, but more than usual. You look worried.” Akira presses his fingers to Goro’s forehead. “See, wrinkles.” 

“Shut up,” Goro snaps, batting Akira’s hand away. 

He does his best to ignore how his heart starts pounding. 

“What’s on your mind? You can tell me, if you want to talk about it,” Akira prompts him. 

“Shido,” Goro answers. “I’m worried about how much he might know. I’m worried he knows about us, and that he’s going to change things on me because he doesn’t trust me, and you might end up in danger.” 

“You’re worried about me?” Akira gives him a look that might be shock. 

Goro tries to read it as anything else, because shock doesn’t make any sense. But, he doesn’t come up with another explanation. How strange. 

“Obviously. Wait–why wouldn’t I be worried about you?” 

Akira shrugs, looking away. 

“Morgana should be back soon, you should probably go,” he dismisses. 

“No, well yes I’ll go in a moment. But first, tell me why you think I wouldn’t be worried about you. If Shido knows about all this somehow, there’s the very real possibility that he’ll send someone else into the interrogation room. Someone who will shoot you. And then my lack of discretion would be the reason I lose you,” Goro rambles. 

It’s what he’s been making himself sick over. If he becomes the reason for Akira’s death, he isn’t sure what he’ll do with himself. He’s grown to really care about Akira. Putting whatever else has been going on aside, the two of them are friends. 

He does his best to look after Akira in his own ways. Try to protect him as much as he can, despite his position. And he worries. Sometimes it keeps him up at night, worrying about all the things that could go wrong because of the relationship they’ve built. Not just for him, but for Akira. Akira’s putting a lot on the line, doing this. He could lose the trust of his teammates, lose everything he worked for, lose his life. The fact that he trusts Goro with all this means a lot to him. 

He doesn’t want to betray that trust. If that means not being able to sleep because he’s so anxious about Akira getting hurt in any way, then he’s been just fine with that. He’s never slept well anyway. It’s nice to care so much about someone. He hasn’t felt that way in a long time. 

“You worry about me?” Akira repeats. 

“Yes. I–” Goro chokes. 

He craves a cigarette. He wishes he could smoke. 

“I really care about you, Kurusu,” he says. “You are a very dear friend to me. Did you not know that?” 

Akira reaches for him, and Goro jolts when he realizes he’s not wearing his gloves. He took them off while they were playing video games because it was annoying him, and now when Akira takes his hand their bare skin touches. 

Goro gasps quietly, completely involuntarily. He hasn’t touched another human being with his bare hand in what must be years at this point. Whenever he shakes people’s hands out in public, he makes a point to wear his gloves. Keeping a barrier between him and everything else has kept him sane in these years he’s spent being the Detective Prince. 

He yanks his hand away. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Akira says to him. “I–I wasn't really thinking. But I should’ve been paying more attention.” 

“It’s fine. It just surprised me. But I do. Care about you, that is. If I knew you didn’t know, I would’ve said something sooner.” Goro huffs. 

He isn’t sure if Akira knows Goro’s tell when he lies. That he also can’t control his eyes, not well enough. He’s seen it, how they have a certain gleam to them, almost like a hint of guilt but not quite. It’s why he never makes eye contact with Shido while they speak, hoping that it’s seen as respect instead of the hiding it really is. 

Akira must know. He knows everything else, this can’t be something he would just miss. Not something about Goro. Those are the things he knows the best. 

As he searches Goro’s eyes, he knows that he sees there is no lie. Not here. 

“It’s not like I didn’t know. I guess I just forgot that it makes you worry. People don’t usually worry about me, which is fine. It’s fine, really. I don’t feel like anyone needs to be worried. I’ve got it, I can always handle it. I get myself into and out of things I shouldn’t all the time. But you–you really worry about me. You think about ways I could get hurt, and it makes you worry. About me.” 

While Akira speaks, he also doesn’t look away from Goro’s eyes, not for a moment. The whole time, his eyes all but sparkle. 

Goro feels this heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He thinks it’s shame. He feels ashamed. 

His throat is dry. These feelings he has, this infatuation he’s developed with Akira, he’s incredibly ashamed of them. Of the addiction he’s formed, the one that has him craving Akira’s presence as much as cigarettes. 

Goro’s mind has never been right, not even before everything in his life went wrong. He’s always had these things he gets so attached to. It’s just rarely been people themselves. He doesn’t know if it’s ever been a person, not a real one he knew anyway. 

There has to be a way to feed this, something he can find to satisfy at least a part of this. To stop himself from going crazy. He feels crazy. 

“Someone has to, right?” he whispers.

Everything twists and curls and he also manages to feel like he’s completely at home. Here, with Akira. 

Goro smiles lightly, at least somewhat pleased that he’s special like this. That he can be someone like that in Akira’s life. He holds that feeling in his chest and it lights him up inside. He doesn’t like any of the things he sees inside of himself. 

He thinks he’d rather it be dark right about now. 

“Goro,” is all Akira says. 

And Goro kisses him.

It’s cruel. Goro hasn’t been so cruel in a while now. He thinks he’s been changing, and hates to believe it’s been for the better. But that’s what Akira’s been doing to him, this gentle influence. He doesn’t expect or ask Goro to change, and that lack of pressure has been what’s caused this slow slide. Goro becoming some kind of “better person”, what a joke. This is for the best. 

He takes his shears and he cuts it all off. 

He kisses Akira for his own gain. Just to see how it makes him feel. To try to feel more in control. And to remind Akira exactly who he is. He’s the villain, in this story. Not the love interest.  

He does it for selfish and spiteful reasons. 

And the worst part is that for just a few seconds, Akira kisses him back. 

But then Akira leans away. Goro has never seen him like this. It looks like his face is cracked down the middle, breaking further with each passing moment. But he doesn’t cry. He doesn’t even look surprised. He just looks hurt. 

Goro would like to say Morgana coming in disrupted them, but they were silent for about a full two minutes before the cat started scratching on the window outside. They were the ones who couldn’t seem to voice anything in the aftermath. 

Akira doesn’t text him for three days. 

Goro texts him five times in that span. 

He sends the first text an hour after he gets home, as he paces around his room replaying the moment over and over again. All the reasons he did it, those swirl around in his head. None of them are excuses. 

Goro Akechi is a bad person. Akira Kurusu is a good one. What happened, it can be easily boiled down to those two facts. Still. They’re supposed to be working together, for now. Goro took it too far. Preyed on the feelings he knew were inside of Akira for his own benefit, just to hurt him. Trying to remind Akira of who he is. Like Akira doesn’t know that. Doesn’t know everything. 

He is cutthroat. He has to be. But there’s no need to be unnecessarily cruel to someone he’s supposed to be friends with. 

 

Goro: I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t fair to you. 

 

He doesn’t hear back, so he leaves it for the night. He figures that Akira might need some time to himself, to think. He busies himself with other things that he’s been neglecting. He goes into the Metaverse, bathing himself in madness and blood. It helps keep his mind off things. Though he doesn’t feel any better about it. He’s not really looking to feel better. The distraction is what he’s seeking.

When he gets home, he lingers outside and lights a cigarette. He takes a long drag, greedily breathing in the smoke. It hurts his throat and his chest and his lungs, but it makes the buzzing in his brain quiet. Just for a moment. In between every drag, his brain yells at him, stupid stupid how could you be so goddamn stupid you useless bastard. So he smokes the rest of his pack. He feels kind of sick from it, still he makes a note to pick up more tomorrow. 

After, he lays in bed and closes his eyes. He remembers that…that zap of contact before Goro pulled his hand away. How Akira’s bare skin felt against his. He’s constantly pushing and pulling Akira along with him, isn’t he? As he swings back and forth between trying to get closer to Akira and push him away, Akira has never fought the current either way. 

He texts Akira again when he wakes up. 

 

Goro: If you’re upset with me, I just want to talk about it. I don’t want this to ruin things for us. I made a stupid mistake, and I understand if you’re furious. But what we’re doing is bigger than us. 

 

He goes to school, then work. He very pointedly doesn’t check his phone. He’d rather not know. He worries anyway. 

Goro sits through a meeting with Shido, barely hearing what the man is telling him because he’s so sick to his stomach. He feels childish, feeling this way over a kiss of all things. Over his stupid obsession with Akira. Over being ignored for twenty four hours. 

Shido is talking about the post on the website, about how the Phantom Thieves have someone on their side who did it, how it’s humiliating that they didn’t know that, all of it. Goro just nods numbly most of the way through the meeting, until Shido starts his ranting. Then he says a few nasty things about the Phantom Thieves and leaves. He makes his way back home. He has a stomachache. 

It’s only when he finally gets back that he checks his phone again, but…still nothing. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. That’s when he sends his third text. 

 

Goro: You can’t just keep ignoring me. This is only going to get worse if we let it. I know I screwed up. You can be mad all you want, but we have to deal with this. We don’t have time for the silent treatment. 

 

He’s starting to get very restless, and very worried. The two of them have discussed that they have to do something about Okumura, since Akira is very hellbent on saving the man (which Goro doesn’t understand whatsoever, Okumura is a very bad person), but they haven’t actually made a plan yet. And they’re running out of time to do that. Goro is trying to bridge the gap again, and being ignored is starting to piss him off. 

Can’t Akira get over these childish feelings for two seconds? If they just talk like adults, they can figure this out together. Akira needs to get a hold of himself. 

He opens his new pack of cigarettes and smokes the entire thing. 

Goro goes to bed early, hoping that he’ll feel less sick when he wakes up. He feels just as terrible. 

Akira still hasn’t texted him. Maybe he never will again. Goro has wrecked this, just like he does to everything eventually. 

He sends another text with shaking hands. 

 

Goro: Listen, I made a mistake. And I’ve been shitty to you, not just the past couple days, but probably since we met. Just let me make it up to you. I hate to ask for it, but I need you to give me a second chance. 

 

Goro puts his phone away and goes to school. He checks it religiously throughout the day, but Akira doesn’t respond. The silence stretches on, long and heavy. 

Goro shouldn’t be surprised. If he were in Akira’s position, he would be acting the same way. Actually, he’d probably be screaming at whoever hurt him like that. He’d be angry. 

He doesn’t think Akira really gets that way. Or if he does, Goro hasn’t seen it. Not yet. 

But it’s possible he’s finally broken the other boy. That he’s pushed too far, stepped over the line he wasn’t looking for. So he sends another text, the last one. There’s not much more he can do. 

 

Goro: I’m sorry. Text me when – if ever – you’re ready to talk. 

 

He does what he should’ve done from the very beginning, he leaves it. 

The next day he wakes up to a text. 

Akira: can we meet up tonight? might seem weird, but can you meet me at a bar in Shinjuku? called Crossroads 

 

Me: When? 

 

Akira: maybe 10

 

Me: I’ll be there. 

 

Goro doesn’t know why that’s where Akira wants to meet up with him, but he doesn’t really care. He’s going to see Akira tonight, and he’s going to fix this. He never should’ve kissed him, and he never should’ve texted him, he can’t believe how stupid he was. But he’ll handle it. It’ll be okay. 

He gets to Shinjuku at 9:30. He wanders around for a while, it’s not like he’s never been here before, but he’s searching for the reason Akira might be coming here. Akira seems to be everywhere, knowing everyone, doing everything. Shinjuku, though…and this bar, Crossroads. It just seems a little much, even for Akira. 

Goro doesn’t come to any conclusion before it’s too late and he needs to get to the bar. He pushes the door open anxiously. He is still underage, and although he did his best to dress a little differently in an effort not to get recognized, he’s very recognizable. 

“You must be Akechi.” 

Goro startles, looking up towards the bar where the bartender polishes a glass. She has a knowing look in her eyes, and laughs when he backs up slightly. 

“Akira told me you’d be coming. Go sit in the back, and no alcohol. Would you like a soda?” 

“A–A water would be nice,” he stutters. 

He goes to sit where she directed, slumping into the seat in embarrassment. Despite having killed people, he still feels bad sneaking into a bar while he’s underage. Goro shouldn’t be surprised his morals are so twisted. It’s always about his image, isn’t it? 

There’s a few people at the bar, but there’s nobody sitting on the back wall where he is. He doesn’t see Akira anywhere, but it’s a few minutes before their meeting time, so he figures there’s no reason to start worrying yet. 

After a few minutes, Akira walks up to where he’s sitting. He’s carrying a tray with a few drinks on it, and he grins more the longer Goro stares. 

He’s wearing a black and red dress, with a white ribbon tied around his collar. He’s wearing fake nails, Goro assumes, they’re painted a neutral black. On his fingers are an assortment of rings, in his hair are a few clips, and in his ears are earrings. He tilts his head at Goro, his face bare. No glasses. 

He’s wearing a belt with a heart as a buckle, and as he inspects it, Akira cocks his hip out. 

“You know, if you wanted to see me in a dress so bad, you should’ve said so sooner. I would’ve already invited you here,” Akira teases, but there’s a certain tension in his voice. 

Just like how there’s a tightness in his smile. Fake, both of them. 

He puts down a water glass in front of Goro, pauses for just a moment, then turns and walks over towards the bar. Goro hears his voice pitch up, cheery as he talks to a customer, “Riko-san! You look stunning as always, and I have a surprise drink for you. Lala-chan and I have a bet if you’ll like it, so even if you don’t, lie. I want to win!” 

“Akira-chan, you know I can’t be dishonest. But I truly believe you’ll win anyway. You’re always right about these things.” 

The chatter continues for a bit, Akira disappears, and when he comes back he’s wearing his regular clothes again, combing through his hair. The only evidence that he was ever dressed up is the makeup he’s still wearing and the earrings he didn’t take out. 

He sits across from Goro, cheeks slightly flushed. He doesn’t say anything. 

He’s wearing his glasses again, the ones he doesn’t need. 

“Are you really allowed to work here?” Goro asks. 

He’s nervous. Being in front of Akira again is making him anxious beyond belief. It’s only been a few days, but they’ve been seeing or texting each other daily, so even this much time apart has been strange. And with everything that happened, he really doesn’t know where to begin. 

“Lala and I have an agreement,” Akira mutters, still messing with his hair. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Goro finally apologizes. “It was wrong of me.”

It’s not easy. But he has to, he owes Akira that. 

He tried to chase Akira off, but the moment it seemed like Akira was actually going to run, he regretted it all. He doesn’t want to lose Akira. Not even if it would make everything easier for him. He doesn’t want easy, or simple. He wants Akira. 

Even if that’s difficult, and has him looking deep into himself in ways he hasn’t ever before. He doesn’t like what he sees, not at all, but maybe he could grow to. Akira certainly seems to. 

“I appreciate you apologizing. I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, I just…I really needed some time.” 

“Don’t be sorry. This is all on me,” Goro insists. 

He was a complete idiot, but he doesn’t bring that up. He doesn’t want to admit it out loud, and he figures Akira knows that already. 

“Why did you do it?” Akira asks. 

“Honestly? I don’t really know,” Goro sighs. 

It makes sense, but the exact reason escapes Goro. What pushed him to kiss Akira that night, he isn’t aware of. He heard his name come out of Akira’s mouth and he just did it. 

“You don’t know?” Akira scoffs. “Alright. Break my heart with no explanation.” 

“That’s not fair. I feel bad enough–” 

“No, you’re being unfair. I don’t care that you don’t love me, you’re perfectly entitled to your own emotions. I don’t expect you to fall for me, or anything, that’s never what I’ve asked of you in our relationship. I love you and I’ve always been okay with exactly who you are, you know that. But doing this, hurting me after everything I’ve done and given up for you is not okay. I would like to at least know the reason,” Akira cuts him off sharply. 

“I don’t really know. I just…kept thinking about it. I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about kissing you, and how I felt about it all, how I felt about you. Maybe I told myself it was to push you away, but that’s not true. That’s not right. I–” 

Does Goro love Akira? Well. 

He wouldn’t really know. If he does, this is the first person he’s ever loved in this manner. He’s never had a crush on anyone, never developed those sorts of feelings for someone. He’s not sure what it feels like, only that whatever Akira is making him feel, he’s never felt before. It’s not just an obsession, not just attraction, not just friendly. Some mix of all, and more. He would assume that must be love. 

But this is who he is, someone who lashes out when they get overwhelmed by simple emotions. It’s not a good idea for him to pursue anything with Akira. Both because he would inevitably hurt him, and because his plan would fall apart immediately. 

He thinks he loves Akira, though. That boy who once offered him his only shelter from the rain, even though he was late for school already. Maybe he loved Akira from that very first moment, looking into his bright eyes as he took the umbrella, watching him run through the rain. It just doesn’t seem…

Goro has never believed in love at first sight. How can you love someone you don’t even know? It’s impossible. 

But that’s just not how this feels. It feels a lot more like Goro and Akira have known each other for much longer than they actually have. It feels like Goro loved Akira before they ever met. Goro would think it’s impossible, but then again, nothing is impossible when it comes to Akira. 

Maybe Akira knows everything and still loves him, but Akira deserves someone better than this. Someone kinder, someone more free. 

“I do care about you,” Goro eventually says. “I just wasn’t thinking. I’m not going to hurt you like that again, okay?” 

Akira searches his eyes. Looking for the lie. But there isn’t one. Goro means every word. 

Goro’s life is over. Who knew that a crush would be enough to ruin everything he’s been working for? He’s going to have to pivot, figure something out. That doesn’t matter right now. 

“You promise?” 

Akira’s voice is quiet and somewhat meek. Goro nods. 

Then, Akira extends his pinky out, looking at Goro expectantly. That’s quite childish. Regardless. 

“Yes I–” Goro takes a deep breath and hooks his pinky around Akira’s. “I promise.” 

This is something he can’t come back from. Loving Akira, making this promise, he’s made a choice. Maybe the first real choice he’s made in a long time. 

It’s a mistake. Every single thing that’s gotten him to the point with Akira has been a mistake, but ones that he’s made over and over again. It seems that he decided his path a long time ago, when he first caught sight of his North Star. Still, he doesn’t tell Akira these things. 

He would grow to regret taking this any further. It would put Akira in danger, anyway. 

And Goro promised not to hurt him. To himself, he makes a second one; Goro won’t let Akira get hurt by anyone else either. 

“Thank you,” Akira whispers, pulling his hand away. “I love you.” 

Goro leans against the side of his apartment building, smoking. He’s been trying to cut back, but when he gets the shakes he always inevitably gives in. He can’t afford to be so unsteady. 

“Those’ll kill you,” Akira comments. 

He’s standing beside Goro. It’s been a few days since their promise, but this is the first time they’ve seen each other in person since then. 

“Not any faster than anything else,” Goro points out. 

If he dies in many years from smoking, that’ll be a miracle. He actually highly doubts he’ll see the end of this year. He thinks it would probably make Akira very sad if he said that, though, so he keeps that part to himself. 

“That’s pessimistic of you.”

Goro shrugs. He takes another drag of his cigarette, holding the smoke in his mouth for a moment before he exhales. It’s therapeutic in a way, the predictable pain of it and the motions. It calms him down. 

“It’s realistic, I think,” Goro argues. 

“That’s what’s so pessimistic about it. To believe that’s realistic. I hope you’re wrong. That’s my optimism,” Akira lists, then snatches the cigarette from between his fingers. “Have you ever thought about quitting?” 

Goro reaches out, and nods when Akira hands it back to him. 

“Obviously. I’ve tried a few times too, but they’re addictive little things aren’t they? Your body becomes so reliant on them. A total nightmare to try giving up,” Goro sighs. 

“You’ve been trying, recently. Cutting back,” Akira states. 

It’s not a question, not at all. Akira knows, as he knows everything else, he’s bringing it up more than anything. Goro hums, putting his cigarette out a little earlier than he’d like to. Normally he smokes them all the way down, but standing here with Akira helps him throw in the towel early. 

“Yeah, trying. Not going very well,” Goro scoffs. 

“That’s not true. You smell like smoke much less often. That’s progress, isn’t it?” 

Goro shrugs. He opens the door to his building back up. 

“Doesn’t really matter. Still smoking them, aren’t I? Here, I’ll show you up to my apartment,” Goro changes the subject. 

He shouldn’t be letting Akira into his space like this. But he dismisses the thought, figuring it has no place here anymore. He can’t help thinking it, but he generally ignores it. 

Goro leads Akira up to his apartment, then unlocks the door for both of them. He holds the door open, watching how Akira hesitates for a moment. He stands in the doorway looking in, but doesn’t actually step inside yet. His eyes scan the entryway, then he slowly steps over the threshold. 

Akira toes his shoes off by the door, then moves further inside. 

He says something that Goro doesn’t quite catch. It almost sounds like “I haven’t been here in a while”, or maybe “It’s been a while”. That must be it, that makes more sense. Akira can’t be talking about here specifically, because he’s never been here before at all. 

“You don’t go to other people’s places often?” Goro probes, trying to puzzle out exactly what Akira means. 

“Oh, uh, no. Not really. Or at least not in this kind of context. I go wherever people want me to generally, but rarely where I want to go with someone. Does that make sense?” Akira turns back and tilts his head in Goro’s direction. 

It’s like Akira looks past him, or through him. More like, he just isn’t seeing Goro’s physical body, but straight through into his soul. It’s rather disconcerting. 

“Yes. You’re here because you want to be here, not because I want you here. This was your choice,” Goro confirms. 

“That’s exactly it. And the fact that I’ll be staying here, I mean, I haven’t had like a–I guess a sleepover…ever, actually. At least nothing on purpose exactly.” 

Goro almost makes fun of Akira, but then he pauses. 

“I haven’t either,” he admits. 

He never really had any friends growing up, and the few kids he was somewhat close with certainly weren’t inviting him over to their houses. He was always the odd one out. Always. 

Akira’s face brightens. He drops his bag down on the couch nearby and wanders towards the kitchen. 

“Then let me make us a good dinner! We can stay up all night.” 

Goro laughs, shaking his head as he checks that his front door is properly shut and locked. He walks to the windows in the living room, testing that the latch on them still holds firm. He slips into his bedroom, going over to confirm that his window in here is locked too. He doesn’t really consider that nobody has ever seen him do these rounds before, not until he walks back out to double check the front door and hears Akira singing something in the kitchen. He doesn’t recognize the song, but the melody is somewhat familiar to him. He thinks he’s heard Akira humming this tune before. 

Right, Akira is here. And when he goes into the kitchen to check the window, Akira will also be there. As he tugs on the front door, he wonders if he should just end this early. He’d be fine, he thinks. 

Goro actually feels better having someone else here. Maybe it’s just because that person is Akira, he isn’t really sure. 

But then the anxiety starts to gnaw at him, and he sneaks into the kitchen. Akira is turned towards the stove, facing away, and Goro reaches for the window. If he just feels the latch for two seconds, he’ll know if it’s locked, so he just needs to be quick– 

“It wasn’t all the way latched so I did that when I got in here,” Akira says. “Please, double check? I forgot to.” 

When Goro looks over, Akira hasn’t turned to look at him. He shouldn’t be surprised. He isn’t, not really. He reaches up and feels along the frame of the window. It’s actually fully pressed back. He hasn’t gotten it all the way into the locked position since last summer. It’s been stuck, but because it still locks he hasn’t really bothered with it. 

Goro gets that familiar feeling in his chest. He knows now that it’s his love for Akira. That kind of smothering feeling, that makes it hard to breathe because of how fast his heart pounds. 

Goro loves Akira, he really does. 

“It’s all set. Thank you,” he responds. 

“What are you thanking me for?” Akira asks. 

He’s already pulled ingredients from the fridge and started chopping things. It looks like he’s making some sort of fried rice? Maybe? Goro doesn’t pretend to be a cook. 

“Making dinner,” Goro lies. 

“Hang on! You weren’t supposed to answer right away,” Akira protests, setting his knife down then turning to face Goro. “Okay, say that again.” 

He laughs when Goro rolls his eyes. He absolutely is not going to repeat himself just so that Akira can catch the white lie he just told. 

“No,” Goro refuses. 

Akira gasps dramatically, putting his hands on his hips. 

“I’m standing here making us both a beautiful dinner and you have the nerve to deny me? How could you?” 

“You can’t guilt me.” Goro shakes his head. “This is one hundred percent on you.” 

Despite Akira’s continued, very loud, complaints, he continues to make dinner for both of them. It’s absolutely delicious, much like the things Akira makes always are. 

Goro has never really spent much time in his living room. It’s decorated as if he does, with the television and the books nearby, Goro actually spent a lot of time trying to make it feel more full yesterday when he decided he would invite Akira over. He thinks it sort of worked. 

The point is, he’s never really realized how comfortable his couch was before. They’re watching some movie, but Goro can’t really remember what it’s about. He’s spent the majority of the movie falling asleep, curled up in the corner. 

Akira seems enthralled in it, or at least if he notices Goro is dozing off, he doesn’t say anything. Goro kind of craves a cigarette, he usually smokes before he goes to bed. But when Akira nudges his shoulder, he only thinks about going outside to do so once. That’s before Akira whispers, “Come on, you have to get in bed.” 

Goro shakes his head, taking the throw blanket he threw over the back of the couch and laying it across his lap. 

“I’m going to sleep out here,” he insists. “I already made my bed for you earlier.” 

“You sleep in your bed. I’ll take the couch,” Akira argues. 

“I’m not moving,” Goro sings, sinking further into the comfortable cushions. 

And then, Akira does something he’s too tired and surprised to protest. Akira picks him up. It’s only really for a second, then Akira drops him back down. He bounces once, eyes wide now as he looks up at Akira who peers down at him. 

“What the fuck was that for?” he questions. 

“Waking you up. I can’t carry you all the way to your room, so this had to do. Go to bed. I’ll sleep on the floor if you don’t and be even more uncomfortable,” Akira threatens. 

They both end up sleeping on the floor, Goro completely out of spite. He’s not sure of Akira’s reasoning, not exactly, but he imagines it’s probably also spite. 

The aquarium is fairly crowded, at least for Goro’s tastes. Thankfully, it being so busy is likely helping him out by somewhat concealing his identity along with his casual clothes. He also pulled his hair back into a tiny ponytail, and skipped his makeup for the day, and has a pair of fake glasses on. Just to make sure nobody would recognize him. What can he say? Akira is rubbing off on him. 

He’s still wearing his gloves though. He does it specifically so that if he ever wants to reach out and touch Akira, he can without worry. 

He meets Akira outside, pulling a face when he sees the amount of people. He hates when people bump into him, and he gets the feeling that that’ll be happening plenty today. 

“You look cute,” Akira tells him. 

“What?” 

Goro turns to look at Akira, getting that lightness in his soul and stomach when he sees the lovestruck expression on Akira’s face. He’s surprised, he’s much less put together than he usually is. Less attractive, missing his makeup and carefully styled hair.

Yet, this is the first time Akira has ever complimented his appearance. He never even realized that. For how much Akira has been open about loving him, being…attracted to him in any sense has never really come up. 

“Cute, you look cute,” Akira repeats, smiling at him. “I like your hair like this.” 

“What are you even talking about?” Goro huffs, crossing his arms. 

“Am I not allowed to find you cute? That’s crazy, you can’t ask that of me,” Akira teases. 

“I’m not cute!” Goro argues. 

“Definitely not true. Come on.” 

Goro goes along with Akira anyway. He’s not really looking to keep arguing about this. 

He hasn’t been to this aquarium for fun, he once had a strange case he investigated here, but that’s it. It probably has quite a bit to do with him not having any real friends, at least not before he met Akira. 

Akira seems very knowledgeable about all of this. Every exhibit they visit, Akira has some sort of fact to share. Goro spends not very much time looking at the animals, and a lot looking at Akira. He didn’t exactly agree to come here because he wanted to go to the aquarium, it was so that he could be around Akira. Lately that’s been making him feel very calm, to just sit in Akira’s presence. It helps him think clearly, too. He’s not so concerned with his feelings anymore, although they’re still very unwelcome in his life. He’s given up trying to deny them or make them go away at least.  

“These are my favorite," Akira comments. 

Goro glances over at the penguins that Akira is observing. He’s leaning against the railing, eyes shimmering and happy. 

“Why?” Goro questions, glancing back at Akira. 

“I don’t really know. They’re interesting, you know? Perfectly adapted to survive and thrive in their environments. And I like that the males give females rocks to woo them, I think that’s funny,” Akira giggles to himself. “I like how they look too. I don’t know, I guess I don’t have any real reasons. I just like them. I always have, since I was a kid.” 

Goro looks over at the animals. He’s never really been interested in anything like that. Goro finds it rather hard to connect on any level with animals, he’s always sought out fictional characters for that. He wouldn’t say he has a favorite animal, though there are certainly ones he likes and dislikes. 

He was never the kid to go to aquariums or anything, and he never had any pets growing up. Those were too expensive. 

Well, that’s irrelevant. 

“They are rather…interesting looking,” Goro tries. 

It sounds like the truth on his tongue, so he nods to confirm it. 

“I’ll bet you’ll like the sharks more. Come on,” Akira urges, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him along. 

Goro is slightly disappointed Akira didn’t take him by the hand. 

Akira is right anyway, he does like the sharks. But mostly because Akira has a wealth of little facts to tell him about them, and listening to his voice so excited and rambling makes Goro smile. Although he does also like the sharks, large where they swim through the water. Despite being predators, they seem fairly docile in their tanks. 

A few times, when Akira looks over at him to make sure he’s still listening, Goro will give him an encouraging smile. 

He still regrets kissing Akira. Sending their relationship into the deep end, they both nearly drowned there. But ever since he did it, it does seem like Akira is more comfortable with him. Whatever the reason, that’s a good thing. 

Goro buys Akira a plush penguin when they’re on their way out, which earns him a full force smile. 

Getting closer to Akira is probably a bad idea. He knows that. He seems to be unable to stop making the absolute worst decisions for the situation he’s in. 

It’s a bad idea to agree to going to the beach. Akira mentioned having gone with his teammates and friends, and that he wanted to try going with Goro and having a more quiet affair. And it just seems like when Akira asks him something, Goro agrees now. There’s no more push back in his soul, He could say no, but he sees no reason to. Not really. He wants to make the most of this time they have together, before things inevitably fall apart. 

So sure, he’ll go to the beach with Akira. He’ll have fun. He deserves that much. 

“I should’ve known this is exactly how you go to the beach,” Akira laughs at him. 

Goro looks up from his book and tilts his head at Akira. He’s sitting on the chair he brought, underneath the umbrella he set up, reading the book he’s been working through. He pushes his sunglasses up until they rest up on his head. 

“What do you mean?” he asks. 

“Nothing. You want to come swimming with me?” 

Goro slides a bookmark in his book and sets it down on the chair once he stands up. He takes his sunglasses off and puts them down too, following Akira as he runs down the beach towards the water. Goro isn’t really worried about anyone stealing anything of his, it’s just some cheap sunglasses and a book he got secondhand. Nothing he’ll miss, not more than indulging Akira. 

The water feels nice on his hot skin, and he stands a little ways into the water watching as Akira swims significantly further out. When first meeting him, Goro never would’ve thought this. But he’s come to recognize that Akira acts like a particularly rowdy child who always needs to be doing something. It’s actually always funny for him to observe Akira around other people now, as he’s come to see all the differences between his version of himself he gives other people versus the one he shows to Goro. 

Akira dives beneath the waves, disappearing from Goro’s sight for a minute or so. When he pops up, it’s directly to the side of Goro, and he immediately wraps his arms around his middle and starts dragging him further into the water. 

“Hey! I’m fine out here!” Goro protests. 

“Why? I wanna swim with you properly,” Akira says, turning to face Goro. 

They’re so close. Goro keeps his ungloved hands up and away from Akira’s bare skin, but he still gets the urge to rest his hands down on top of Akira’s shoulders and kiss him. 

He really wishes he had a little less self control. He wants to make the mistake, wants to lean into all of this. But he can’t. He really, really can’t. 

He takes a deep breath and leans away from Akira. 

“I can’t, uh, swim,” he admits. 

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Akira apologizes, immediately putting him down. “I didn’t…I didn’t know.” 

“What?” 

That can’t be possible. Akira has never not known something. Especially something about him. How does that make any sense? That goes against everything Goro came up with to cope with this whole situation. 

“What do you mean, what? I didn’t know,” Akira repeats. 

“You’ve literally never said those words to me before,” he says. 

“I’m allowed to not know things,” Akira huffs. 

“Yes, sure, but you just never have. You once told me you knew everything. Clearly, that’s not true,” Goro points out, feeling rather smug. 

“Oh whatever. You’re such a bastard.” 

Akira shoves his shoulder gently, so Goro shoves him underwater. He feels even more smug when Akira surfaces and complains, “Not fair! I can’t do it back to you!” 

Leblanc has become another familiar aspect of Goro’s life. He believes he overall probably spends more time in this place than his own apartment. 

That doesn’t bother him. 

He’s also grown rather close to Sojiro. In a funny turn of events, he’s ended up on a first name basis with Sojiro before he actually has properly with Akira. Although he calls the boy by his first name in his head, he hasn’t done so out loud. Akira goes back and forth between calling him Goro and Akechi, and sometimes hesitates and doesn’t end up using either. 

“You don’t tell any of your other friends I’m letting this happen,” Sojiro is lecturing Akira. 

“I won’t! It’ll be a secret,” Akira promises. “Nobody else can know Goro is your favorite, I get it.” 

Sojiro scoffs, and doesn’t confirm or deny that statement. 

Goro’s never been anyone’s favorite before, not really. At least not…as he is. Other than maybe Akira, but he doesn’t even know if that’s true necessarily. Just something he’s assumed based on context clues, but with no real evidence. 

Sojiro walks out from behind the counter and sits at one of the seats, pulling his newspaper out. 

Goro takes his place, cautiously stepping behind the counter and accepting the apron Akira offers him. He slips it over his head and ties it securely around his waist. 

“Okay, so, walk me through it,” he requests. 

Akira’s instructions are detailed and precise. That’s what Goro was most worried about when he offered to teach him how to brew coffee like this, that Akira would talk around the point like he usually does. But this, he’s straight-forward about. 

First, Akira explains and demonstrates, then he guides Goro through step by step, and then he lets Goro make his own cup. 

The first cup, Akira hands to Sojiro, the second he gives to Goro, and he takes the third for himself. 

As Sojiro tries his, Goro isn’t quite expecting it, but he comments, “You are improving on your little experiments. I think you should’ve brewed this a little longer, though. Next time don’t worry about overdoing it, you want the flavor to have room to grow complex and rich.” 

Akira watches Sojiro like a hawk and nods along at the critique. In Goro’s opinion, Akira is pretty perfect at what he does, but he supposes for a master like Sojiro everyone would have room to improve. Even the best of the best. 

Goro lifts his cup of coffee and tastes it. It’s pretty good, not bad certainly, although in his opinion it’s a little…watery, somehow? He figures somewhere along the way he misheard a direction, or messed up the timing. It’s not bad, at least. 

He glances over as Akira takes a sip from his mug. He licks his lips, then takes a second sip. 

“How is it?” Goro asks. 

“Bad,” Akira says, then takes a third sip. “You didn’t brew this long enough at all.” 

“I should’ve expected my first try wouldn’t go very well,” he sighs. 

“You’ll improve. My first brews were not very good either,” Akira assures him. 

“That’s not true. He’s been a prodigy since the beginning,” Sojiro cuts in. 

It is true, though, or at least it’s not a lie. Akira’s eyes weren’t dull at all. Goro sees no reason to bring it up, he figures it just has to do with Akira’s low self esteem. It isn’t the first time it’s cropped up, even just today. Sometimes Akira can be quite self-deprecating. 

“Everyone starts somewhere. I’ll make sure you practice.” Akira raises his cup. “To you, to new beginnings.” 

“To Goro,” Sojiro grunts, drinking more of his coffee. 

“Sure, to new beginnings, yes,” Goro agrees, clinking his mug against Akira’s. 

Goro is lost. He thinks he has been for a while now. 

Meeting Akira was the best thing that ever happened to him, but also the worst. It ruined and saved him in equal measures. He’s been trying not to stray too far in either direction, but he finds himself wandering anyway. Looking up and following his North Star for miles without realizing, until he’s far from his usual path. 

One of these days, he’s not going to be able to find his way back. He’s known for a long time now which path he would choose in the end, but he didn’t want to admit it. He’s giving up years of planning, everything he did and put into it isn’t going to matter. He’s just going to…let it all go. That’s not fair, not fair at all. 

Not to his mother, not to any of the people he killed, not to himself. He wishes he never met Akira. All Akira has ever done is change him, and Goro finds that he really dislikes it. He can hardly recognize himself anymore. 

It’s not like he can just go back to how things were, though. That would require him killing Akira, and he knows he won’t be able to do that. 

When he killed Wakaba, that was hard. He hesitated, and almost didn’t go through with it at all. It was simply the pressure of his first kill, of killing someone he had grown to enjoy being around. Someone he knew. Someone with a lot to lose. 

He supposes that’s probably why Shido had him kill her, to test if he was really capable of being as cutthroat as his position demanded. He passed the test. 

That was different. Although he’s used to killing now, and continues to kill people he knows, it’s not like that first time. He outgrew hesitating. 

But he loves Akira. He couldn’t hurt him, let alone kill him. 

So Goro is lost. 

He lays in his apartment, on the floor where he and Akira slept when they had their little “sleepover”. His carpet still kind of smells like Akira, he thinks. Maybe he’s just crazy. Maybe he just smells the faint scent of coffee that clings to him. 

Here’s the thing, he’s seen a lot more of Akira lately. That doesn’t help his situation, but he’s also been really seeing Akira. 

Goro thought he knew the other boy, and that he was putting together his puzzle as he went, but this past week or so has shown him that he was only scraping the surface. There was so much more that Akira wasn’t showing him. 

Goro thinks his favorite new fact he’s learned is that Akira is not infallible. He doesn’t know everything, and he still can improve his coffee making technique. They’re such little things, such unimportant details, but they mean everything to Goro. That’s the thing, isn’t it? Akira is a human being. Goro loves him. 

Right now, Akira should have just left for his school trip to Hawaii. 

He thinks, when Akira is home, he’d like to talk to him about all this. He shouldn’t, he should keep it all to himself and go through with his plan and blah blah blah. He’s been telling himself these things,  but he never actually does them. It’s probably best for him to throw in the towel early, while he has control over it. 

It’s selfish, but he wants to be with Akira. He’s been lonely for most of his life now, and just once he’d like to have someone he can trust to stand by him. He doesn’t care how (he definitely does), he can figure that part out later. 

At least he has a few days to think about it. To wallow and mourn the future that won’t come to pass anymore. It doesn’t seem like he’ll be killing Shido anymore. If he’s going to work with Akira genuinely, he has to do things his way. That means stealing Shido’s heart instead of pumping him full of lead and fury. 

He isn’t really sure what his mom would’ve preferred he did. When he first started this, he was very sure she would want the man dead. He’s no longer sure she was ever that vengeful of a person. Sure, she was an incredibly angry and bitter woman when it came down to it. That was fine by him, she raised him to be strong and take no shit. She generally didn’t allow herself to be pushed around. 

But she never mentioned “getting back” at anyone. It didn’t seem to be something she was all that concerned with. Goro thinks he finally understands that. 

Even though she eventually…lost her fight, her reason for fighting had nothing to do with revenge. She fought for him, a fact which Goro has only realized since meeting Akira. 

He’s been able to look much deeper into himself than ever before. At first, that was unnerving and made him feel weird and guilty somehow. Now he’s come to appreciate it. He sees himself clearly. His mother loved him. She fought for him as long as she could. 

There’s a knock on his door. 

He sits up, looking over at it curiously. Maybe one of his neighbors? They typically leave him alone. Every once in a while someone needs to ask him something or they got his mail or something, so he doesn’t think too much of it. He stands and fixes his hair slightly, brushing his clothes down to make it seem less like he’s been laying on the floor for the better part of the hour. 

He pulls his door open, then just stands there. 

This doesn’t make any sense. Akira should’ve already left for Hawaii, there’s no reason he should be standing here at Goro’s door. 

“What…why are you here?” he questions. 

He backs up as Akira steps forward, slipping into his apartment. He’s too shocked to make any arguments. 

“I’m not really sure. I guess I just had a feeling…you’ve been so quiet recently and I just got a sense that I should come here. I don’t know. That you might–might need me or something,” Akira sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t get it out of my head, so I didn’t get on the plane. I came straight here from the airport.”  

For just a moment, his hand tightens and he tugs at his bangs. One of his bad habits that Goro has slowly picked up on. That and his nail picking and how he bites his bottom lip until it bleeds. Goro feels somewhat pathetic for noticing such things, but it comes with being in love with the boy. He loves those bad, bloody parts. Secretly, they’re his favorites. 

Goro gets the urge to push Akira away. He came here on something as ridiculous as a feeling. He could be in Hawaii, and he’s standing inside Goro’s shitty apartment because he thought Goro, what? Might need him? 

And he was right. 

“I want to be with you,” Goro admits. 

It’s childish, honestly. It isn’t something he should indulge in, this love he holds. It’s dangerous, but it means everything to him regardless. He isn’t afraid, not now. 

“It’s not a good idea for you to be with me,” Akira says, taking a step backwards.

He can’t go further than that, not with his back against the front door now. Not unless he decides to run. But Goro doesn’t think he will. 

Some reservations about this are to be expected. Goro is a serial killer. He’s…the Black Mask. He has spent much of his life doing bad things, being a bad person. Killing people, ending their lives far too early. That’s something that can’t simply be ignored, no matter how much Akira may love him. 

“Out of the two of us, I would say it’s much more like it’s not a good idea for you to be with me,” Goro points out. “Not that I really care about that, but still.” 

Akira couldn’t do anything terrible or hurt anyone if he tried. That’s his whole point, Leader of the Phantom Thieves. The only “bad” thing he ever did was a smear on his record that Shido orchestrated because Akira risked everything trying to help a woman who was in trouble. Akira is not perfect, but that’s still who Goro looks to as a sort of–of moral compass, to lead him forward. 

Goro is a literal murderer. He’s ruined so many people on his way here. Plenty of them were innocent. 

Akira deserves better than him. Goro wants him anyway. 

It’s not a good idea for them to be together. Goro is asking anyway. 

“I know you think that, you just don’t know what I know.” Akira starts pulling his hair again, and Goro reaches out to stop him. 

“Maybe. But I know a lot, you know? Certainly more than you give me credit for.” Goro carefully untangles Akira’s fingers from his curls, and slides their hands together. “And I’ve learned quite a bit about you. At your core, you’re a good person. There’s things I don’t know, I’m not going to pretend that isn’t true. But still, I trust you. You’ve done nothing but be good for me. You’ve always been…my bright star in the dark night. Even when I’m lost and I don’t know which way to go, you’re there. I see you, always, lighting the way. I don’t ever want to lose sight of you. I really want to be with you. I need you, Akira.” 

Akira starts to pull his hand away, but then he stops. He stops, and starts to pull Goro’s glove off. 

It’s just as jarring the second time their hands fit together, but Goro is more prepared for it this time. He thinks his hand is shaking slightly, and he hopes Akira doesn’t bring it up. 

Akira’s thumb strokes over the back of his hand, then worries over his knuckle, then back. 

Goro doesn’t fight him for even a second. After a few moments of breathing deeply, he puts his other hand up and lets Akira take the whole pair off. 

Goro can’t quite fight back his shiver when Akira holds Goro’s bare hands between his. He feels a little bit like he’s going to explode with the contact, but he doesn’t pull away. 

“This is a really bad idea, Goro,” Akira whispers, choking on every word. 

Akira is definitely right; this is a very bad idea. At the same time, Goro doesn’t care. 

Goro loves Akira. He wants him, he wants to hold hands and kiss and sit together in Akira’s room doing nothing. He doesn’t deserve any of these things, but he can’t help wanting them. And Akira loves him too. 

If he loved Akira when the boy first insisted on giving his umbrella up in the middle of a storm, then what is this feeling he has now? It feels like it’s all tripled in size. He’s never felt this way, he’s never really felt anything this strongly in a long time. 

If this is what they want, even if it’s a mistake, shouldn’t they have it? It’s not any worse of a mistake than the one they’re already making. It’s not more dangerous. It would just…it would make Goro happier. It would make Akira happier too, he thinks. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so sick all the time. Maybe it would make this easier for him. 

He squeezes Akira’s hands. 

“I know. Can we do it anyway?” he requests. 

“Are you sure?” Akira asks, so quiet that Goro has to lean forward to hear him properly. 

There’s a wetness in his eyes. 

“More sure than I am of most things,” Goro tells him. 

“You’re going to grow to regret this,” Akira wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut.  

He doesn’t cry, not quite. But the pain in his voice is unmistakable. It’s choking him. 

That’s their future, if they continue this back and forth game where neither of them makes a real move. They’ll both choke. And Goro? Goro will die. He’s sure of that. 

Goro would rather regret it than let it go unaddressed, hurting them both. 

“I’m fine with that. It’ll be worth it.” 

Goro wouldn’t say that the change between them is all that obvious. There are very few real differences between their strange friendship/rivalry situation and them dating. Their relationship has always toed that line, from the moment they met. There was always love between them in some way. Even if Goro didn’t start out reciprocating that love, he has always known that Akira loves him. 

Since his confession, Goro doesn’t feel as afraid. That’s the biggest difference, how Goro feels. He feels strangely safe, even though he’s in a significant amount of danger, doing what he’s doing. He should feel worse than ever, but he just doesn’t. 

He only smokes when he’s home alone now, instead of slinking off into alleyways at every given opportunity. He’s cutting back more. Every time he sees Akira and he doesn’t smell like smoke, Akira smiles at him. He goes from going through several packs a week to a single pack lasting him over a week. It’s giving him the shakes pretty bad, and as he goes longer and longer between cigarettes, his cravings get worse. When it gets really bad he calls Akira, and sits on the phone with him while he distracts himself. Usually it doesn’t help his physical symptoms, but it does help keep his mind off of things. That’s worth something. 

Sometimes he still wonders what it is Akira is hiding from him, but it just doesn’t seem as important as it once did. Goro knows that Akira will bring it up when he’s ready, when it’s relevant. It doesn’t really bother him, not anymore. 

“What’s going on between you two?” Morgana is asking. 

Akira’s talking cat still doesn’t realize Goro can hear him, it seems. Goro ignores him like he usually does, continuing to read the book he brought over. He has a cup of coffee in front of him, and curry that he’s almost finished with. Akira is closing up Leblanc, Sojiro having left a little while ago. 

Goro flips a page even though he’s stopped reading to listen. He used to listen in on all this and pretend like he was going to report to Shido about it. Now he’s just being a bit nosey. 

“Nothing new,” Akira says under his breath. 

“I know that’s not true!” 

This time, Akira doesn’t answer. Goro assumes he’s reminding Morgana that they’re not entirely alone. Goro turns another page, making sure it’s louder this time, and hums lightly to hammer the point in more. 

“Finish eating,” Akira demands. 

“Hm. Must I?” Goro looks up and tilts his head innocently. 

Akira plucks the book out of his hands and snaps it shut. 

“My place,” Goro scowls. 

“I know for a fact you remember exactly what page you were on. Eat that goddamn curry, you can keep reading after,” Akira instructs, turning to place the book behind the counter. 

Goro smiles to himself, reaching for his plate of curry again. It’s as delicious as it was when he first started eating it, even though it’s cooled down a little bit. It has that Akira flair to it, slightly spicy with a sweet undertone. 

Really, Goro could eat this everyday. He doesn’t bring that up. He thinks it would make Akira sad, he sometimes gets sad when Goro mentions things about the future. Specifically, their possible future together. Akira doesn’t ever say anything, but he gets this look in his eyes. Far away and wistful, like it’s all he could ever want, but something he somehow knows he cannot have. And in Goro’s experience, Akira knows pretty much everything. 

Goro doesn’t want to make any assumptions, so he tries not to think too deeply about it. Not much to be done about anything now, Goro thinks. It’s been set into motion. Can’t be stopped at this point. 

Best to let it go. 

“It was page one hundred and fifty two,” Goro mentions. 

“I knew it.” Akira laughs. 

It’s such a beautiful sound, Goro admires. It rings happy and light in the still air of Leblanc. He’s been laughing like that a lot recently. 

Goro is glad that their mistake has already proven worth it. He knew it would. Some things just are worth it like that, sometimes it’s justifiable to ruin everything. Goro hopes that if his mother were still alive, she would rather he be with Akira than killing Shido. He isn’t Akira, he doesn’t know. He can only hope. His hope is all he has. 

Morgana huffs and jumps down from the counter. He paws at the door, meowing obnoxiously and wordlessly. Akira sighs and wipes his hands on his apron before going to open the door. As he does, he whispers, “If you’re going to Futaba’s, don’t come back. I’m not letting you back in. You’re spoiled.” 

Morgana doesn’t respond. 

“Am I causing issues between you?” Goro asks when the door closes. 

Akira returns to his spot behind the counter in front of Goro, collecting his empty plate. 

“It’s not just that, this is how Morgana always is around this time,” Akira answers, shaking his head. 

“This time? What do you mean?” Goro presses, trying to make sense of what Akira has told him. 

This time…what about this time of year would make Morgana act any certain way? That doesn’t make any sense, does it? 

“Oh, I–like, when it’s cold,” Akira stumbles, and lies. 

Goro watches his eyes become dull, even as he flicks them away in an attempt to hide it. 

“What?” he deadpans. 

Why lie about this? What is he even lying about? Sure, his wording was weird and Goro wasn’t really sure what he meant, but this means absolutely nothing. Right? What’s going on. 

“What’s going on?” he voices. “Why did you just lie to me?”  

“I shouldn’t have said that. It’s…it’s about the thing I haven’t told you,” Akira sighs. “I’m sorry I lied. I should’ve just admitted it was a mistake. I’m sorry.” 

Goro burns with curiosity. It wraps around his body, the itching need to know. 

But he shakes it off easily. It’s only a small, passing feeling. Akira is going to tell him when he’s ready to. Goro has no issue waiting. 

“I never heard it,” Goro dismisses. 

He doesn’t need to know anything. He’s patient. Akira is absolutely allowed his secrets. 

“Thank you,” Akira says. “I love you.” 

Then he pauses, and adds, “You don’t need to say it back. I just…like to say these things out loud. But it’s not because I’m expecting a response.” 

Goro certainly isn’t ready to say it back, not out loud. Not even if it’s true. That is the one thing he’s still afraid of. Putting that out into the universe, giving it a reason to take Akira away from him. He thinks that would be too painful for him. 

Still, Goro smiles. 

“I know,” he responds fondly. 

When Akira has to start Okumura’s Palace, Goro sees less of him. They both are busier, between sorting out faking Okumura’s death as well as keeping up with the other aspects of their plan. They’re going to keep the man alive. Goro doesn’t feel very strongly about it, not really. Although he cares about Akira, he still doesn’t really feel that other people in this world deserve such care from him. 

But that doesn’t matter. 

It’s around this time that they decide it needs to finally happen. They need to let Akira’s team in on what they’re doing. Not entirely, exactly. They don’t need to know everything, not yet. They don’t need to know how long this has been going on either. But they have to know parts of it, because otherwise it’ll make things far too complex and difficult. 

Goro isn’t very excited about it. Akira tried to tell him he didn’t need to come clean about being Black Mask, but he disagrees. Keeping that from them any longer than he already has is going to cause problems, especially because Akira knows. He doesn’t want anyone to resent Akira because of this. 

So when he stands in front of the Phantom Thieves, he never looks at Akira. Not once. He makes eye contact with each of the others, barely hearing himself as he admits to everything. All of it. It’s like he’s just watching himself do it, not really experiencing it. The separation helps. 

He apologizes to Futaba, and it’s the only time he meets her eyes. 

When he finishes, there’s complete silence. 

“You’ve been able to hear me this whole time?” Morgana speaks first. 

“Yes,” Goro confirms. 

“Akira! You didn’t warn me!” he complains. 

“Mona, you should probably take this more seriously,” Ryuji mutters.  

“Yes, I did…I’ve killed over a hundred people.” Goro’s heart pounds in his chest, and he fights the urge to glance over at Akira. “There’s nothing I can say to justify that. But I’m not asking any of you to forgive me, or accept me. I just ask you to work with me to stop any further violence.” 

He’s not really concerned with that, but this is the path he chose to help Akira, so that’s what he says. 

The Phantom Thieves certainly don’t forgive or accept him, but they do agree to work with him for now. That’s all he really cares about, is that they all concentrate their efforts to save Okumura’s life.  

Privately, when almost everyone else has left and only Akira and Goro remain upstairs in the attic, Haru pauses before going downstairs. 

She says, “Thank you for caring.” 

And then she leaves. Goro waits with baited breath for the bell on the door to sound, to know for sure they’re alone. 

Goro sits heavily down on Akira’s bed. He toes his shoes off, peels his gloves from his hands, and leaves those garments on the floor. Then he gets in Akira’s bed, pulling the covers from where they’re tucked in and sliding beneath them. He doesn’t have an actual change of clothes, so he’s still wearing all his layers, but he just needs to lay down. 

He feels numb. 

“That went alright,” Akira whispers. “Are you going to stay here?” 

Goro bites his lip. He shouldn’t. That would look bad. In the morning, he’d still be here, and…Akira’s teammates might be upset with him already, but this would surely make it worse. But he also feels so sick. He’s been feeling that way again recently. 

Everything he had planned, it’s all gone now. It’s all nothing in the face of the new truth. He has his North Star, it’s all he’s really been able to see lately. It’s what keeps him moving forward, that and pure adrenaline. He’s happy to be here, though. 

“Is that alright? I could just sleep on the floor, or the couch, even,” Goro rambles anxiously. “I just don’t think I want to be alone.” 

“It’s okay. We can have another sleepover, and maybe this time the world won’t end if we lay in bed together. Do you want pajamas? My clothes are a little small for you, but maybe I can find stuff that’s a little big on me and that could work…let me look.”  

Akira starts humming something under his breath. That song that Akira likes to hum sometimes. To the point that it’s become familiar to him, although he still doesn’t know the lyrics. He closes his eyes to listen better. 

Akira gets all the way to another song before his voice gets closer again. Goro blinks his eyes open to find Akira’s face only a few inches in front of his. He jumps a little, and the scare isn’t so bad when it makes Akira giggle. 

“Get dressed. I’m going to go lock up downstairs,” Akira says. 

He presses a kiss to Goro’s cheek, then drops a pile of clothes down on top of him. He disappears down the stairs. 

Goro slowly gets up, shrugging off his day clothes. His jacket and button up and tie, and all the things he hides behind. These things that belong to the Detective Prince. To the Black Mask. Not to Goro. 

He shoves the pack of cigarettes deep into his bag and kicks the pile of clothes away from him. 

Akira’s clothes are soft, and the perfect size. Except for the pants, which are just a little short. But Goro doesn’t mind. When he pulls Akira’s shirt over his head, he inhales the other boy’s familiar scent. He smells like warmth and coffee, and like his deodorant which Goro has found out is vanilla scented. The shirt smells identical to him, and Goro spends a self-indulgent second taking a deep breath in. 

It calms him. 

He should fold his clothes, and not just leave them on the ground. He bends down to pick them up, folding them neatly and leaving them on the couch. Just as he’s going to sit back down on Akira’s bed, he hears footsteps up the stairs. Too light to be Akira. 

It’s Morgana. 

He walks over to the bed, jumping up and sitting about a foot or so away from Goro. 

“I still don’t trust you,” Morgana says, his tail flicking behind him. 

“Yes, that’s probably the correct stance to take. It doesn’t bother me, how you feel, as long as you’re willing to work with me,” Goro responds coldly. 

“I am. And I may not trust you, but Akira does. And he cares about you. And you make him happy. So just…don’t forget that part, okay?” 

Goro nods. He softens himself when he answers this time, “I would never forget it. I care about him too. I’m doing all this to protect him. My whole life is dedicated to him now” 

“Thank you, then. I understand how that feels.” 

“Mona, don’t interrogate him,” Akira chastises, stepping up into the attic. 

“I’m not! I just came up here to sleep with you guys. Not my fault you took forever,” Morgana argues. 

Akira looks over at Goro. Goro smiles, and shakes his head. He won’t say anything. He’s not looking to give Morgana away. 

“Come lay down,” he says instead. 

Akira slips into bed with him, climbing over and letting Goro sleep on the outside. Even though he didn’t ask. He guesses he never has to when it comes to Akira. 

Morgana curls up at their feet. 

Goro hesitates. Not for very long, but for just a moment he considers that he doesn’t know if he should. But then he slowly wraps his arms around Akira and pulls him back against his front. He presses his hand over Akira’s chest, feeling how his heart beats a little faster at it. He kisses Akira’s shoulder and closes his eyes. 

He’s never felt more at home or safe. 

When he opens his eyes in the morning, it’s to his phone buzzing. At some point it seems he ended up on his back, and Akira is completely curled up on his chest, arm thrown over his stomach. Goro’s heart beats right underneath Akira’s ear. 

Right, his phone. He reaches into the covers until he locates it, then answers it. 

“Hello, Goro Akechi speaking,” he says. 

His voice sounds a little hoarse to him, but he hopes that speaking over the phone hides that at least a little. Maybe he should’ve checked who was calling him before answering, but it’s a bit late for that. 

“It’s unlike you to be late for work, Akechi-kun,” Sae comments. 

Shit. 

“I’m so sorry, I…must not be feeling very well,” he laughs lightly, making a show of clearing his throat. “I overslept. Please forgive me, I’ll be there shortly.” 

Faking Okumura’s death doesn’t actually have that many moving pieces at the end of the day. It involves a drug that mimics a mental shutdown, and a safehouse. The first, Akira takes care of. The second, Goro. 

It means that although they’re communicating closely for a lot of it, they don’t get to spend a lot of time together. Goro does his best not to let it get to him. It’s not that important, is it? It seems rather trivial, wanting to go on a date when he’s trying to save a man’s life. His priorities feel screwed up lately, as he tries to figure out what he really wants to accomplish now. His life is askew. 

He knows theoretically that it is. A lot has changed, and what once was an obvious and straight line to his goal and his death is now completely useless. He isn’t walking that path anymore. And he’s come to terms with that. That being with Akira means walking a new path. Following his North Star rather than the worn path he was used to. 

But he doesn’t know where he’s going. So he can’t fix anything, he can’t right it, because he doesn’t know which way he’s supposed to be looking at it. 

He’s…getting very distracted. Whenever presented with the choice, he can’t seem to help choosing Akira. 

He’s enjoying some curry in Leblanc, Akira isn’t actually here, but Goro has accepted Sojiro’s offer to make him something to eat. He isn’t necessarily interested in coffee that doesn’t come from Akira, so he just has some water. 

Right on time (five minutes early), Haru comes through the door. She looks slightly nervous, as she shakes her umbrella out and leaves it by the door. She reaches up and fixes her hair. 

“Akechi, could we have that talk?” she requests. 

As if that isn’t the reason both of them are here. 

“Yes. Akira told us to use the attic,” Goro responds, taking the last bite of his food before he stands up. “Let’s go.” 

They go up together, Goro leading the way. When they get to the top, Haru takes a seat on the couch and Goro sits at the edge of Akira’s bed. 

“You think my father deserves to die,” Haru says, looking down at her hands which are folded in her lap. 

“Yes, I suppose so. But I’m not going to kill him either way. I would like to save his life,” Goro assures her. 

“Sure, but not because you want to. You’re doing it because that’s what Akira wants. If it were up to you, you would kill him,” Haru points out. “Why? You must have a reason.” 

It’s not like she’s wrong. Goro doesn’t always have reasons for these things. Sometimes killing people is something he just does, an order he carries out. There is no wanting or not wanting it, just the non-choice of Shido’s jobs. 

However, there are exceptions to this. Sometimes there are people Goro really doesn’t want to kill (Wakaba, Akira), and sometimes there are people Goro really really wants to kill, like Okumura. Sometimes things are personal. 

“He has asked me to kill many people before. It doesn’t typically bother me to kill people, it’s my…job, really. But he has always treated me as if I’m dirty and below him for it, for getting my hands dirty for him. That’s what angers me, that he acts so above this despite the instruction coming from him. Like passing off the blame absolves him at all,” Goro explains. 

Haru nods while he rants. It does seem like she’s really listening, like she cares about what he has to say. That surprises him. 

He thought she came here to do something similar to her father, to act like she’s above all this and he’s the dirt underneath her shoe. 

“I understand. But he wasn’t always like that, you know? Once he was a good man, a good father. But then he lost too much and things got out of control. I truly believe he will be better off with his heart stolen than dead. I think he can change, and repent for what he did. Perhaps he will even want to apologize to you,” Haru responds. 

Goro doesn’t really want an apology from Okumura. He doesn’t think it would really mean anything to him. What are the words “I’m sorry” worth in comparison to what Goro was forced to do? 

Well, he shouldn’t say that. It was not always force that drew him to kill. He shouldn’t pretend that it was. 

“It doesn’t undo anything,” Goro says bitterly. 

Because it doesn’t. Even if he were to change now, what would that do? What would that actually fix? Nothing. 

The dead cannot be brought back to life. There is no repenting that can take back the pain he’s caused other people. He doesn’t even believe it would bring anyone peace. At least, if it were him, he wouldn’t feel at peace. He certainly doesn’t now with Okumura’s change of heart looming. The man could grovel at Goro’s feet for hours and it wouldn’t do a damn thing. It wouldn’t make either of them feel better. 

“But it does mean something,” Haru argues. 

“What? What does it mean?” he challenges. 

“If I–If I hurt somebody, let’s say. I do it on purpose, I push them down out of complete malice and they fall down and they get hurt. You’re right, even if I say sorry for what I did it doesn’t magically rewind as if it never happened. It doesn’t undo the fact that I did it because I knew it would hurt them. But an apology still means something, right? It means more than not apologizing. It’s at least an acknowledgment that it was wrong, and I know that, and I’m sorry for it,” Haru rambles, gesturing with her hands. “It means I care, at the end of the day. I care that someone got hurt because of me. I’m sorry.” 

Goro pauses, but then nods slowly. He supposes what she’s saying has some truth to it. 

“People can change. From second to second. And if they decide to change for the better, I think that means quite a bit,” Haru continues. 

He sees the push in her words. Him, change for the better? It sounds like a joke. But she truly believes it, doesn’t she? 

Akira has never seemed like he expected or expects Goro to change at all. It doesn’t appear to matter to him, he clearly loves the very core of Goro and what surrounds it won’t change that. 

Haru wants this from him. 

“I’ll think about it,” he tells her. 

He surprises even himself when he means it. 

Goro doesn’t think he wants to keep hurting people. He’s done being told to push someone and just doing it, not really thinking about the consequences associated with it. Not considering who he’s really hurting, a whole human person. 

The thought of it all makes him feel very sick. To begin to disassemble his years worth of walls is an exhausting endeavor. He’s built them very specifically to keep him safe, and all his instincts scream in protest as he pulls bricks out, waiting for the collapse. 

He taps his foot, impatient. He watches his microwave spin, not really wanting to eat but knowing he has to. He’d rather be in the warmth of Leblanc eating curry, not his apartment that’s always a little too cold eating a microwave meal. But with Okumura’s faked death so close, he really should keep his distance. He needs to be careful. 

His phone buzzes a few times on the counter, and he glances over at it. Hope rises in his chest for a moment. It could be anyone, so it could be Akira. When he picks his phone up, his heart sinks. It’s Shido. Giving him a job. A job? Why is Shido giving him an assignment mere days before he’s supposed to do the hit on Okumura? Is this a test? Oh god, he really doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want the Phantom Thieves to see another person dead because of him. Not after his talk with Haru, not as he’s in the middle of breaking it all down. 

He confirms with Shido. There’s no way to say no, it’s always framed as a request, but it’s an order. He abandons his microwave meal. He needs to talk to Akira, but he can’t go to Leblanc. It would be too suspicious. And he knows for a fact Shido has this phone bugged. Does he still have that burner? He must. He doesn’t remember getting rid of it, at least.

Goro starts digging through drawers looking for it. He hasn’t used it in a few years, no reason to hide anything from Shido when he didn’t have anyone to tell anything to anyway. But he’s grateful when he finds it still hidden in his bedroom. It’s dead, predictably, so he leaves it to charge and goes to eat his bland dinner. 

He doesn’t want to do this. It’s such a strange feeling. Goro doesn’t want to hurt people anymore. He doesn’t want to shove people out of malice and not feel bad at all when they hit the ground. He wants to help people up again, a leftover childish wish from when he wanted to be a superhero. 

Haru is right. This means something, and he certainly doesn’t want to give it all up for some test Shido is throwing his way. 

Goro is developing a headache. Maybe a migraine. The pain beats on his skull from the inside, sending a sharp sensation through his temple. As if something is trying to drill its way out. He thinks maybe it’s because of this massive change he’s been undergoing. The one where he suddenly finds it completely true that he doesn’t want to keep hurting people. 

He fights the urge to clench his jaw and grind his teeth together. A terrible habit he’s had since he started going into the Metaverse. It helps him focus, when Loki tries to run away with his mind. He takes a rather aggressive bite of his fried rice, wincing when he bumps his teeth with his chopsticks. Halfway through eating he lights a cigarette, not caring about smoking in the house right now. It’s been three days since his last cigarette, but he feels he’s owed one in this kind of situation. He trades off, which slows down his eating considerably, but that’s for the best. That phone needs to charge, and he needs to calm down. 

When he finishes eating, his headache has become a full blown migraine. He stumbles when he stands up, shoving his hand down on the table to steady himself. He has to get it together. This isn’t going to kill him, he can stand.

Get it together. 

Goro swallows and makes his way to the other room. Being plunged into the darkness helps a little bit with his blurring vision, and he snatches the phone from the table where he set it down and curls up in his bed. He dials Akira’s number from memory. 

It rings a total of two times, loud and annoying in his ear, then the call connects. 

“Hi, Goro,” comes Akira’s voice. 

No reason to ask why. It’s Akira. That’s why. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he groans. 

Goro squeezes his eyes shut, trying to power through the migraine but it just gets worse and worse. Like someone is taking an axe to his forehead. It’s going to split. 

He moans in pain. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him. 

He’s never gotten headaches, not really. At least not ones that he couldn’t easily explain their source. Caffeine withdrawal or an accident in the Metaverse or not enough sleep, he shouldn’t be experiencing any of those things. This came completely out of nowhere. 

“What’s wrong? Do you need me? Where are you? Home?” 

The panic in Akira’s voice breaks through the pain for a moment. He notes that it’s strange. He’s heard many things from Akira, seen him bathed in different emotions. Panic has never been one of them. Akira usually keeps his cool. Except, it seems, for right now. Akira always seems to lose control when it comes to Goro. 

“Just a headache,” he dismisses. 

It takes a lot of effort from him to get the words out, but he manages. That’s not even what this is about. 

Goro clenches his jaw until his teeth grind together, and it snaps him into focus. 

“Shido ordered a hit,” he finally explains. 

“Whatever you need to do not to raise an alarm, you do. I’ll take care of the rest–” 

“No, Akira. I don’t want to do it,” he interrupts. 

Akira isn’t getting it. Akira thinks this is about appearances, and normally he wouldn’t be wrong. Almost everything Goro does is for appearances, that’s sort of the point of being who he is. But just this once, it’s actually about what Goro wants. Or more accurately, what he doesn’t want. 

Honestly, Goro is being childish. Refusing to do this when he already has this much blood on his hands, who is he fooling? Nobody. But it’s not about fooling anyone, it’s about trying to be true to himself again. And even if he’s killed more than a hundred people, he doesn’t want to kill anyone else. Not even one more person. He won’t let Shido keep bullying him, pushing him around, ordering him to do things he doesn’t want to do. He certainly doesn’t want to kill this random person when he’s trying to be better. 

He shudders, the pain starting to make his body feel weak. Is he going to throw up? He’s never had a headache like this before. 

“I–I’m not sure how…um. Let me think. Let me think. Tonight? Do you have to do it tonight?” 

“No. In the next few days,” Goro tells him.

“Alright. Let me–I’m going to take care of it. Tell me who this person is.” 

“Nobu Miyoshi. A business man. He’s twenty nine. Lives in Shibuya,” Goro lists off. 

Akira is quiet for a few minutes. Goro can hear vague rustling, some muttering, but nothing he can really make out. He sets his phone down on his pillow and lays his head on top of it so he doesn’t have to hold it. Then he closes his eyes again, starting to feel groggy. 

Finally, Akira’s voice comes again, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out, okay? Please get some rest.” 

“Okay,” he whispers. 

“I love you, Goro.” 

Akira hangs up the second the words are out. 

Goro’s glad. He thinks, given three more seconds, he would’ve said it back. 

His headache persists. It comes and goes, and it doesn’t get as bad as it was that first night, but it also doesn’t fully leave him. He sort of just learns to ignore it. To work through it. 

Goro doesn’t actually know how, but Akira makes Nobu Miyoshi disappear. Akira asks him to just accept it for now, and please not ask questions about it that he can’t answer. So Goro doesn’t ask. He’s just glad he doesn’t have to do it. 

Okumura goes off without a hitch too. It’s surprisingly smooth. Like every detail of the plan has been perfectly hammered out despite the fact that really, Goro and Akira didn’t have much time to do so. It wouldn’t surprise Goro if Akira has been planning it for much, much longer than he let on. 

The Phantom Thieves have a private celebration. Goro knows they went to Destinyland together, but that was for appearances. So Haru could play her part in all this as a grieving daughter. This, this quiet meal together in the attic of Leblanc, is the real thing. 

Goro arrives late. He’s the last person there, which he curses. He wanted to get there somewhere in the middle, get lost in the hustle as they get everything set up and as the majority of people are arriving. But he couldn’t find his keys for the longest time, having to pause his search multiple times because of his headache. It’s waned for now, which he’s grateful for. It means he can deal with this with a clearer mind. 

The headaches have made him…absent at times. He spaces out trying to manage the pain and loses chunks of time. 

When he steps inside, only Sojiro is still downstairs. 

“Welcome home,” he greets gruffly, shaking the newspaper in his hand. “Can you look at this crossword for me before you go upstairs?” 

Goro pauses and looks as Sojiro sets it down on the counter. 

“Medicine of varying legality,” he reads quietly, tracing his finger across the paper. “Nine letters. Hm. Narcotics.” 

“Oh yeah that fits. Thanks. Minds not what it once was,” Sojiro jokes. 

“Nonsense. Your forgetful old man act doesn’t work on me,” Goro laughs. 

Sojiro laughs with him, then waves him upstairs. 

Goro goes, not forcing the smile from his face. He won’t become the Detective Prince when he steps up here. He’ll remain Goro Akechi. No pretending. 

It means something, for him to be himself in front of them. 

When his foot hits the landing, someone barrels into his side. He stumbles backwards, but doesn’t fall. When he looks down, he recognizes the fluffy hair as belonging to Haru. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do at all. 

Then he hears her, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You saved him. You saved my father. You meant it, you wanted to.” 

He opens his mouth to respond, but struggles trying to figure out what he should say. Then he wraps an arm around her back. 

Under his breath he tells her, “Don’t thank me.”

He can’t continue. 

Don’t thank me. I only saved him from myself. I only did what I should’ve been doing this whole time. I only saved one life out of a hundred more I ended. I only listened to you, to your advice.

He figures it would probably bring the mood down. 

Haru pulls away from him, reaching up and wiping at her eyes quietly. She steps back, gesturing for him to go ahead. He gives her a moment, turning to the rest of the room and stepping further into it. 

Goro thinks it would be a stretch to claim that people look happy to see him. But they don’t seem to hate his presence at the very least. There’s an empty chair next to Akira that he figures is for him. He sits in it, jumping when Akira immediately takes his hand. He casts a glance over their audience, but people have gone back to talking amongst themselves. They’re not really paying attention. He figures it’s okay then. 

He relaxes and squeezes Akira’s hand. 

Goro struggles to feel like he belongs with these people, but he thinks they’re doing everything they can to make him feel welcome. Well, most of them. He can tell there’s still anger, there’s still doubt. Futaba Sakura doesn’t speak to him, not that he was expecting her to. But she does look at him, a few times, while he’s speaking. And there isn’t hatred in her eyes, but just a quiet, subdued sort of anger. He can’t blame her. 

Makoto Niijima has a bit of doubt on her face every time she interacts with him. He assumes she’s still very suspicious of him. She’s never liked him either, not once in the whole time they’ve known each other. He isn’t sure if it’s jealousy or something deeper. 

Everyone else seems neutral to positive on him. Actually, Goro’s closest ally might be Morgana. Morgana chatters at him normally, which he’s been doing ever since their talk that night Goro confessed to everything. He seems pleased that Goro listens and responds to him, which he feels like is a simple and easy thing to do. Morgana actually typically has some really interesting things to say, and Goro feels they’re quite similar. 

“I want some! I need a plate!” Morgana is complaining. 

They’re all digging into the food, and Goro wordlessly tears his strip of beef in half and offers the other piece to Morgana. He snaps it up and meows, knocking the side of his head against Goro’s calf. Goro smiles to himself. 

Every bite he takes, he offers Morgana half. 

He stays rather quiet while everyone talks. He just doesn’t have a lot to add, and he’s starting to develop the beginnings of another headache. He’s perfectly content to sit back and listen. Akira finishes eating pretty early, and he’s not really contributing to the conversation either. He’s leaning back in his chair, his arm slung over the back of Goro’s. Every time Goro leans back, Akira’s fingers inch forward to touch him. A brush against his shoulder or neck or back. As if to just acknowledge that Goro is right there. 

This. 

This is why he’s changing. He hasn’t felt this normal in his entire life. Some people say that normal is “overrated”, but Goro couldn’t disagree more. Life without any normalcy in it is exhausting. Living on the edge, living the impossible and unbelievable, it’s not very pleasant. It’s not easy, either. It’s hard, to live through every crazy experience and not be able to just…be with people after. To talk to friends, call his mom, or even cook a simple meal for himself. To have a baseline to go back to. He’s never had those things, and it wore him down. To nothing but his revenge and anger. 

But then a boy offered him an umbrella in the rain. And maybe it’s overly sentimental, but it really did change his life. It gave him another option. An alternative to self-destructing just to take Shido down with him. He’s not free, but this makes him believe he could be one day. If he keeps putting this kind of work in. 

And if having this means giving the rest up, saving lives instead of ending them, he’s willing to try. Even if he won’t ever get those stains off his hands, it doesn’t matter. Maybe it doesn’t have to matter. Maybe it only has to mean something. Maybe there are people who really will accept him anyway. 

When he was a kid his mom used to say, Love changes you. 

But she always said it bitterly. Like it had…cursed her somehow. Ruined her. For her, it probably had. 

Goro disagrees. Love doesn’t change you, not really. It makes you want to change. And whether or not you do, and how you change, that’s up to you. That’s a decision you must make on your own. 

Goro would like to think he’s changing for the better. That Akira made him want to be better, and he’s actually made steps towards that. That’s what he hopes, at least. 

Goro goes to visit Okumura with Haru. He doesn’t do it to hear some apology, or to see the man knocked down a peg, he does it to be there for Haru. To stand beside her while she shakes in anxiety. 

The safe house is cold, and Goro’s contact doesn’t seem to be here. He told her to mostly leave Okumura alone while he recovered from his change of heart. They can handle the rest of it once he’s more with it, getting him a new identity and figuring out what he wants to do and where he wants to go. 

Okumura stands up from the table when they step through the door. He looks tired with dark bags under his eyes, and a little like he might’ve been crying earlier.

“Haru,” he whispers, holding his arms out. “My sweet Haru, my daughter, I’m so sorry.” 

At first, Goro doesn’t think Haru is going to indulge him. She stands straight up, her shoulders tense, one of her arms looped through his. But then she slips away from her and runs directly into her father’s arms. 

He embraces her tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. Tears slip down his face as he kisses the side of Haru’s head. 

Is this real change, he wonders. Does it count if it’s forced? If the Phantom Thieves changing his heart is what really prompted it? 

He isn’t sure if the why really matters, but regardless. He should give them some time. 

But before he can turn and walk out, Okumura pulls away from Haru and comes over to him. 

“You’re…you’re him. Goro Akechi. The Black Mask,” Okumura states. 

“Yes. Is it so obvious?” Goro sighs. 

He isn’t sure what else to say. 

Okumura drops to his knees in front of Goro and clasps his hands together. 

“I’m sorry! You’re just a child, I never should’ve asked you to commit such atrocities in my name. You didn’t deserve that. I was lost in my incessant need for power, but you had nothing to do with that. So I’m sorry.” 

Goro was right. It doesn’t do anything. Nothing magically fixes or undoes itself. Nothing changes. 

But he was wrong about something. He does feel better. He doesn’t know if he’s ever heard anyone tell him that he didn’t deserve the things that were done to him. This means something to him, even if it doesn’t technically matter in the end. When he looks up and makes eye contact with Haru, he knows that she can tell her words have gotten through to him. That means something too. 

“I don’t forgive you,” Goro says. “But thank you anyway.” 

Shido is happy. That’s Goro’s saving grace. Shido has been in an excellent mood and it tells him that he’s safe, that even if Shido somehow does know what’s really going on, he’s not going to do anything about it. Not yet. 

When Goro enters Sae’s Palace with the Phantom Thieves, he immediately falls to his knees. He’s had a migraine all day, but now it feels like his head really will explode. It really will split down the middle. This kind of pain is really unlike anything he’s ever felt, worse than awakening to either of his Personas. He’s going to die, he can’t think of any other reason for this to be happening. 

He clutches at his head, leaning into Akira when he wraps his arms around Goro. In this much pain, believing he’s about to drop dead, all he can do is melt into the comfort of Akira’s touch. 

“—wrong? What’s wrong?” he’s asking quietly. 

Goro isn’t sure how many times he’s had to ask. It’s hard to think through the agony. 

And then all of the sudden, Goro just knows. The headache clears. He sees everything with clarity he hasn’t had for a while. Akira’s light shines inside him, and he’s missing something. 

He knows it won’t be coming back. The headaches, or the missing piece. 

“Loki is gone,” Goro says numbly. “I can’t sense him anymore.”

Loki and him always had a complicated relationship. The lengths Goro went to obtain his second Persona were sometimes insane. He put himself through hell to become what he needed to be. To be who Shido needed. Their agreement, their deal, it was never about anything other than a shared goal. To kill, to induce madness, and eventually to lose himself and take down Shido. Loki gave him power to accomplish these things. It was just business. 

But it’s different now, isn’t it? Goro isn’t doing those things anymore. Maybe he's still going to take down Shido, but he’s not planning to kill the man. He supposes it only makes sense Loki was wrenching himself out of Goro little by little the moment he made that decision. Loki doesn’t care about what his mother would want, or what Akira expects him to do, Loki cares about their deal. And as far as that’s concerned, Goro has turned his back on that. He’s broken it.  

There’s a big, open space where Loki used to reside. Goro can feel it, like a pit in his chest. 

He can’t tell if it’s physical or emotional. 

He looks down as if there will be an actual hole there, but there isn’t. And when he looks down at himself, he’s wearing his original outfit. White and red and gold greet him, not the black he’s grown used to. 

But Robin Hood. Robin Hood who’s lurked in the shadows of his heart, completely suppressed and covered by Loki’s presence. That familiar feeling encompasses Goro once more, like warmth flooding through his cold veins. It’s like a hug, but one that comes from within his own body, his own heart. He breathes through the empty space, feeling calmer. 

“My heart. My Justice.”

Robin Hood’s words curl through him, easing his lingering pain. He doesn’t even have to take his mask off, Robin Hood has already appeared next to him. That’s how it’s always been for them, a phenomenon which Goro still can’t explain. That Goro’s hand need not even touch his mask to summon his Persona, Robin Hood can just will himself into existence. 

One of Robin Hood’s massive hands falls on his head, messing up his hair slightly. As he disappears again, contained to the mask on Goro’s face, Goro watches him brush a finger across Akira’s cheek. 

Akira looks a bit like he’s seen a ghost. There’s a hauntedness in his eyes, which stays for four more seconds after Robin Hood is gone. Then Akira’s eyes turn dull and far away. 

But right now Goro needs to focus.

Despite the suddenness of the change, Goro settles into using Robin Hood again rather easily. Nothing has really changed between them, Robin Hood is as easy to control as ever. And on a full team like this, Robin Hood’s weaknesses are covered. In fact, Goro feels like the synergy he finds would be impossible with Loki. 

Loki never liked working with others. Loki kept him isolated. 

This new life he’s found, it just doesn’t fit Loki anymore. Goro tells himself that’s why he left. That it wasn’t personal. 

Still. The emptiness persists. 

Nobody says anything about it. 

Not even Akira. 

In return, Goro doesn’t ask about his reaction to Robin Hood. 

Sae’s Palace is a blur in that way. It’s like living in a dream. One he’s been afraid to sleep and face for a long time. 

The dream where he lives through this. Can he even dare to try? He’ll have to fight for it. It won’t be easy. Just walking away is hardly an option. 

But he wants to. To live in a world where he can tell Akira that he loves him. Where he can smile and laugh and have some sense of normal. Where they have a future together. 

Akira is downstairs. He’s fully singing that song, the one that Goro is starting to learn even without actually hearing it. 

Morgana is up here with him, instructing him through making a lockpick. Goro isn’t very good at it, but Morgana doesn’t seem to mind as he keeps snapping them in his clumsy, shaky hands. He hasn’t had a cigarette in three days. 

“You’re going to protect Akira, right?” Morgana asks suddenly. 

Goro puts down his tools so that he can turn his full attention onto Morgana. 

“Yes,” he answers automatically. 

Then, clarifying, “What do you mean?” 

“In the interrogation room…you could just shoot him. That’s what you originally planned to do, right? Couldn’t you still just do it?” 

“I suppose there wouldn’t be anything that would truly stop me, not physically. But I couldn’t do it,” Goro admits. “I couldn’t hurt Akira. I’m just not capable of it anymore.” 

“I believe you,” Morgana says. 

Goro tangles his fingers together, trying to put together his thoughts a little better than that. But he kind of can’t, he doesn’t think there’s a better way. Not really. 

Goro couldn’t hurt Akira. He just couldn’t. He loves Akira. He would never dare. 

It would hurt himself just as much. 

“Does it get easier? Caring this much?” Goro questions. 

It’s sort of rhetorical. He isn’t sure if Morgana actually has the answer for him, but he figures it’s worth an ask. 

“Yes, actually. Well, in my experience you become more truthful about it at least,” Morgana responds, tail flicking back and forth. “It’s not so scary when people care back at least. And we care about you too.” 

“You do?” Goro hums. 

He figures Morgana is probably talking about himself and Akira. And Morgana has yet to actually admit that out loud, so he’d like to acknowledge it. 

“Yeah. You’re a Phantom Thief now, so even though maybe not everyone wants to be your best friend, we all care,” Morgana explains. 

Goro stalls. Everyone? 

“That–are you s-sure?” he stutters. 

“Mhm! We’re going to help you get back at those shitty adults and then you can be free. We’re all here for you.” 

They all care. About him. 

He promises himself. The night before he’ll have to act his heart out to get Akira safe and sound back home. Hopefully it’ll be the last show he’ll ever put on. 

He promises that he’ll do his best to live. There, and from here on out. People care if he lives or dies, and he’s going to live. 

But also. 

If it comes down to him or Akira, he has to choose Akira. Akira wouldn’t want this, not at all, but Goro can’t imagine living in a world without Akira. Well, he can, and it just wouldn’t work out for him. He wouldn’t be able to, he doesn’t think. So, choosing Akira is the only path he’s willing to walk. 

Even if this time it isn’t where his North Star points him. Sometimes he has to follow his own, lit up heart.  

“Robin Hood?” he asks. 

It’s harder to feel his Persona outside of the Metaverse, and he certainly can’t hear him, but he knows Robin Hood is there. Theoretically. He should be listening. He used to be able to feel Loki, but Robin Hood’s presence is much more subtle. Harder to notice. 

“We have to protect Akira. I know that wasn’t our original purpose, we were going to—to fight evil, against injustice. I was supposed to be a hero. It’s been a long time since that was true…but, anyway, he’s my Maid Marian. So we have to protect him.”

And he can’t hear a response, but he thinks he feels it. A resolve that isn’t just his own. 

He sleeps well that night. 

As he orchestrates the police force to arrest Akira Kurusu, he can’t help but think about the beginning of all this. That, if he had known the truth, known everything like Akira seems to, he would’ve rejected it. He would’ve done everything in his power to prevent this, to stick to his original plan. To absolutely not, under any circumstances, fall in love with Akira. He probably would’ve shot the boy months ago, like he originally wanted to. 

But it seems like Akira, knowing everything, did the exact opposite. He ran towards the danger, letting any previous plans melt underneath the warmth of his love. He loved Goro Akechi the only way he seems to know how to, with his entire body and soul. Even if he’s a murderer, it just doesn’t matter somehow. Like it’s another fact about Goro the same as his newfound love of coffee or the eyes he inherited from his mother. Akira is impossible, just like Goro thought from the beginning. 

He supposes that’s the difference between them. Someone who’s afraid of love and someone who becomes brave because of it. 

As Goro steps into the car arranged for him, he has a fleeting thought. It’s just a thought, not necessarily an urge or a desire, not even particularly a feeling. Nothing that he means. 

He just thinks that, if he wanted to, he could kill Akira now. It would be the perfect time to stab the boy in the back. Everything could go back to normal, back on the straightforward path he’s strayed from. It would be like he never left it. 

But he won’t. Of course he won’t. Maybe at the beginning of this, that’s the choice he would’ve made, but he’s different now. He loves someone again. Maybe more than just one person. 

He thinks of Haru thanking him, hugging him, smiling at him over the tea they had last week, accepting him as he tries to change. Even of Okumura, apologizing and telling him he didn’t deserve to go through all of this. He thinks of Morgana sleeping curled up by his feet at night (sometimes on his chest in the morning when he’s trying to get up for work), sharing his meals with him, driving the Mona Bus in the Metaverse, the purr of the engine exactly like Morgana’s in his cat form, thinks of the trust between them. The care. He thinks of Sojiro, the quiet care that the man offers him in the form of coffee and curry, the respect in asking for his help with the crossword, and the comfort they share when they wait for Akira together. 

Those are forms of love too. 

But the person he is now would never dream of a betrayal. He can’t help but agree with something Akira said to him once. What was it? It would be a betrayal not only of myself, but also of you. 

Betraying Akira would be betraying himself too. Those two things are intertwined with each other. Like he and Akira are. 

So when he walks into the interrogation room – the guard long dismissed – and faces Akira, there isn’t a moment where he hesitates. He fires his gun, carefully aiming it towards the wall behind where Akira sits. The bullet lodges itself in the concrete. The cover-up actually provides them with a significant amount of leeway in this situation. As long as Goro reports as he’s supposed to, the gory details won’t actually matter. Goro believes the Metaverse will take care of some of this too, he isn’t entirely in the loop on that part of the plan. Very technical things, more Futaba’s area of expertise. And it doesn’t really involve him anyway. 

He sets his gun down on the table, then turns his attention to Akira. He’s drugged, it’s obvious from the look in his eyes. He doesn’t look good, not at all. 

“Did they hurt you?” he asks softly. 

It’s more in a soothing manner than a genuine question. He knows they hurt Akira. He can see the evidence of it all over his body. 

He reaches out and picks the lock on Akira’s handcuffs, sighing in relief when they finally come off in his hands. He sets them aside, and takes Akira’s bruised and cut up wrists in his hands, massaging them gently. 

“If you can’t talk, that’s alright, you don’t have to,” he whispers. “I’m here. I’m going to get you out of here. Can you stand?” 

Akira tries. He takes his hands away from Goro and presses them down on the table, but the moment he pushes himself up, he lists to the side. Goro is there to catch him, supporting Akira’s weight. 

“I–I’m, uh, sorry,” Akira slurs, leaning heavily on Goro. 

“No. Don’t be. You aren’t heavy at all, I can carry you,” he assures the other boy. “And I love you. Come on, Sae’s waiting to take you home.” 

Goro’s heart hurts as he hands Akira off to Sae. He wishes he could go further, but he has to make sure he reports to Shido. Otherwise, he won’t be able to guarantee Akira’s safety. Even though he doesn’t want to at all, he lets his hands fall away from Akira and back to his side. 

He takes a deep breath and dials Shido’s number. He stares at the opposite wall until his vision is unfocused. 

It helps his mind sharpen. 

“Shido-san, my job is complete,” he reports. 

His voice is empty and cold. It’s the one he uses when talking to Shido, one he modeled after the man himself. 

“I’ve told you not to call me by name. Regardless, all that’s left to do is deal with the remnants.” 

The other Phantom Thieves? Shido didn’t bring this up to him. Why is he so bothered with the others? He seemed so focused on Akira. 

It’s unnecessary, focus on that. It’s unnecessary and it would stir the public, and this is a bad time. Don’t get emotional. 

“The continued deaths of these teenagers would be a bit much, don’t you think?” he hums. “I considered making it appear they had a falling out…but that would only amplify public frenzy. It would be best to have each of them have an unfortunate accident, but only once this storm blows over. It would be too much of a distraction from your campaign right now.” 

His heart pounds, but he actually feels very calm right now. He’s so nervous it’s circled back around to complete focus. 

“Is there any possibility they’ll want to avenge their leader?” 

Yes. Oh, Shido doesn’t even know what’s coming for him. 

Goro doesn’t fight the smile from his face as he answers, “No chance. They’re nothing but cattle anyway. They have no backbone without his guidance. I will keep a close eye on them just in case, though.”

“I’ll be counting on you.” 

Shido should count himself very lucky that Akira is still alive. Otherwise, Goro wouldn’t even consider letting him live. 

“They will live their lives cowering in fear of death. An apt punishment for obstructing our work,” he comments. 

“Make sure to kill that strange cat when you find it as well.”

Goro presses down his fury. No place for it here. 

“Understood. Though…I doubt there’s any need to worry about it. It’s merely a cat, after all.” Goro leans back against the wall behind him, curbing his emotions and fighting them from his voice. “More importantly, they should be dealing with the suicide right about now. Things will become quite busy once the word gets out so I’ll need to prepare my comments on the matter.” 

“I need to prepare on my end as well,” Shido says, as if he’s just realized this. 

Idiot. 

“Beyond that, what of the director of the Special Investigations Unit?” Shido questions. 

“Perhaps he’ll be struck by a mysterious illness sometime soon. We’ll see. I have more important things to attend for now. I’ll make sure he won’t be an issue either way,” he dismisses. 

“Good work.” 

Shido hangs up. 

Goro sighs in relief. It doesn’t seem like he suspects anything is off. That’s good. He did good. 

And if it all goes well, he won’t ever have to put on such an act again. No more Detective Prince, no more Black Mask, it’ll just be him. Uncontrolled. Free. 

If it all goes well. 

He hopes it goes well. He’s afraid of what may happen otherwise. 

He puts on a disguise to go. He’s too afraid to tip Shido off. It would ruin everything, and he could never live with himself if he did. So he gathers his hair into a ponytail and hides all of it under a hood. He wears baggy clothes to hide his body, and leaves out the back door of his building. He leaves his phone at home and goes to Leblanc. It feels like it takes forever, but maybe he’s just nervous. 

By the time Goro gets to Yongen-Jaya, he’s running. He runs down the backstreets to Leblanc, shoving the door open so hard it’s clear he startles the people inside. No Akira. 

“Where is he?” he asks, out of breath. 

He pushes his hood off his head, searching the eyes of the people down here. Only Sae and Sojiro. The others must not be here. Maybe tomorrow, they did mention not wanting to congregate until after the news actually dropped. 

“Upstairs. Dead asleep,” Sojiro says. “I’m going to take him to the clinic tomorrow for a proper checkup, but for now she said to give him plenty of water and let him sleep. His system is flushing the drugs out. His memory might be off for a while.”

“Can I…can I go up there?” Goro requests. 

“Of course. If he wakes up, make sure he has some water.” 

Goro doesn’t need more than that, he makes for the stairs and takes them two at a time. The worry and restlessness in his chest finally calms when he sees Akira laying in bed, asleep. He’s on his side, curled up in a ball. There’s a look of slight pain on his face even in his sleep. 

Morgana is curled up against his chest, fitting perfectly in the space his body makes. 

“How is he?” Goro whispers, taking his shoes off before he approaches. 

“When he’s awake, confused,” Morgana whispers back. 

“Should I go?” 

“Of course not. Get in bed,” Morgana tells him. 

Goro climbs in, staying sitting up rather than laying down. He doesn’t want to fall asleep, and he thinks he will the second Akira curls up on him (like he always does). He’d like to be able to watch over Akira, just in case. 

But he reaches out and combs his fingers through the boy’s hair. The contact soothes him. 

Akira gets better over the course of the next few days. Goro can’t stay the whole time, but he spends as much time with him as he can. At first Akira’s memory is pretty bad, mixing up people and events and seemingly time itself. He asks Goro once if “Maruki has Sumire still”. And when Goro tells him very gently that he doesn’t know what Akira is talking about, Akira locks himself in the bathroom for ten minutes. When he comes out, he seems less confused. He apologizes, and claims that he had a weird dream. Goro thinks he’s probably still somewhat confused, because he doesn’t seem to realize that Goro can tell he lied. But he doesn’t bring it up. 

He’s very patient with Akira during this time. It’s the least he can do. He gives Akira space and a lot of leeway. 

He doesn’t think Akira remembers him saying “I love you” in the interrogation room. He doesn’t bring that up either. 

One morning, Sojiro has taken the two of them out. It’s not entirely strange, and it’s something Sojiro has brought up the idea of before. They’re sitting in a cafe, Sojiro heavily criticizing the coffee while Goro is just happy to be eating some sweets to perk himself up. 

“You two are dating, aren’t you?” Sojiro questions gruffly. 

Goro freezes. What is he even supposed to say to that? Sojiro really has a talent for timing, doesn’t he? 

Goro can’t run from this. And he can’t lie. He has no idea what Akira has and hasn’t told the other man, so he’d rather just come clean and deal with possible consequences as they come. 

“Yes,” he answers, reaching up to rub his forehead. “I’m sorry if he didn’t tell you.” 

“He tells me surprisingly little,” Sojiro points out. 

“Oh, I understand that,” Goro laughs. 

For how much Akira likes to talk, he doesn’t usually end up saying very much at all. That’s one of his many talents. 

“I’m just glad he finally acted on it.” Sojiro crosses his arms and nods in what Goro hopes is an approving manner. 

“Well, I acted on it,” Goro corrects. 

Maybe the details don’t actually matter all that much, but he still feels the need to voice it. Sojiro cracks a small smile. 

“That makes more sense.” 

There’s silence between them for a moment. 

Then Sojiro sighs and says, “I loved Wakaba, you know? I never actually acted on it. I thought she didn’t want that from me, so I left it. I still regret that.” 

Goro feels a lot like throwing up. He gets as far as putting a hand on the table to stand up before the nausea begins to pass. 

“What do you know?” he whispers. 

“About what?” 

“Me?” Goro chokes out, laughing hollowly. “What has Akira told you about me? What has Futaba said? Anything?” 

“Akira said you got tangled up in a bad crowd. Not much else,” Sojiro says slowly. 

Goro sets his jaw and swallows hard. He’s strong. He can say this. Even if it means Sojiro hates him for the rest of time, the man deserves the truth. As ugly and real as it is. 

“I work for someone very powerful. He employed me almost three years ago, when I was fourteen. I became a hit man. And the first woman I ever killed was Wakaba Isshiki,” Goro lists, quietly and calmly. 

“What–” 

“She was my friend. My mentor. Killing her was my first test, and I couldn’t fail. If I failed, I would be dead. I’m sorry I chose the woman you love to die instead of me. If I could take it back now, I would,” Goro admits. 

He takes a shuddering breath in. He might cry. 

He starts to gather his things. He assumes Sojiro will never want to see him again. 

“This man. What is his name?” 

Goro shoulders his bag and shakes his head. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismisses. 

“It does. What is it?” Sojiro insists. 

“Shido,” Goro murmurs. 

Then he starts to walk away. He’s surprised to feel a hand fall on his shoulder, even more surprised to turn around to see Sojiro. There’s not hatred or even anger in his eyes, just a deep concern. 

“It’s not your fault,” Sojiro tells him. 

Goro can handle a lot, and he’s put in work to change and be better recently. But this, he cannot take. 

“That’s not true!” he snaps. 

“It isn’t. You didn’t know,” Sojiro argues. 

“It most certainly is my fault. Nobody told me to go after this man, nobody told me to push myself this hard, and I’m positive that nobody held my hand and pulled the trigger for me,” Goro hisses. 

He pulls away from Sojiro, but he can’t seem to fully run. Sojiro continues to follow. 

“That doesn't mean you had a choice. I know. I know him, and I know how he does these things. You were fourteen, and you didn’t know, and it wasn’t your fault.” Sojiro squeezes his shoulder tightly. “You hear me, kid? Don’t let him make you think otherwise. That’s how he always wins. He gets in your head, and everything becomes someone else’s fault. Don’t let him.”

It isn’t Goro’s fault. It’s a novel concept, one that he isn’t quite sure he believes. But he’s doing his best with it. To put some more blame on Shido and less on himself, even though he doesn’t feel like it’s really deserved. 

Sojiro is right, Shido always wins. Goro would like to live to deliver him a loss.  

When Akira is mostly recovered, he gathers the Phantom Thieves and tells them that they’re going to start their infiltration of Shido’s Palace. Goro privately thinks that Akira should wait longer, but he isn’t about to oppose him in front of everyone. Akira is still bruised all over, although they’re healing, they’ve turned an ugly purple almost black color. His face is mottled with them, and the rest of his body, and he’s still walking with a slight limp. Still, he stands tall in front of everyone, perfectly straight as if he’s completely healed and in no pain at all.

He really is their leader. 

Everyone agrees easily. 

After the meeting, Goro stays. He lingers as everyone else leaves, and when it’s just him, Akira, and Morgana upstairs he tries to gather what he wants to say. 

“Mona, can you come back later?” Akira asks, opening the window in the attic. “Goro and I have to talk.” 

Morgana looks at Goro first. When he nods, Morgana hops up on the windowsill and then outside. Akira shuts it behind him, then sits on his bed. 

“What do we need to talk about?” Goro tilts his head.

Akira didn’t mention anything to him about this. Maybe it’s just an excuse to be alone together? 

No, Akira looks too serious for that. 

“I have to tell you,” Akira says, turning to look up at him. “It doesn’t matter anymore if you think I’m crazy, or if it breaks reality, or if I'm not supposed to and that makes this the last time. But it’s become increasingly clear to me that the only way forward is telling you the truth. The full truth.”

The puzzle. Goro’s puzzle that he’s left unfinished on a table in his mind. He was content not to solve it at all. He’d almost forgotten about it. 

No need for it when he already had everything else he could ever want. But that familiar itch overcomes him now. He still wants to know. He won’t turn down Akira. Not if he’s ready. 

Goro nods, sitting down with Akira on the bed. 

“Okay. Tell me.”

“I’ve done this before,” Akira admits, quiet, but steady. 

“Done what before?” Goro asks. 

He tries to make sure his voice isn’t accusatory, tries to word it in a way that Akira wouldn’t think he doesn’t believe him. Goro can tell Akira isn’t lying, he just isn’t quite sure what Akira means by that. So he keeps his voice soft, and when Akira lets out a shuddering breath, he puts a hand on the boy’s back and rubs it gently. 

He won’t go anywhere. 

“All of it. The–the Metaverse stuff. Coming here, living here, getting to know people. Meeting you. Meeting everyone. The Palaces. The interrogation room. Every part, and more. I just–I’ve done all of these things countless times,” Akira explains.

“Like, you’re from the future or something?” Goro tries to confirm. 

“Y–Yes. Something like that. It’s like–maybe more like, time folds back in on itself at a certain point if I let it. It keeps-keeps repeating, because I keep letting it,” Akira stutters. 

Goro has never heard Akira so unsure. Stumbling through a confession like this.

“Have you done this before? Told someone?” Goro questions. 

Akira shakes his head. His lip wobbles for a second, and then he’s crying. Goro realizes he’s never seen Akira cry before, not over anything. This is why, isn’t it? 

No reason to cry over things you know about, things you’ve experienced already. But a new experience, that must be scary in this kind of life. 

Goro wants to dismiss this. Akira’s right, it sounds totally crazy and maybe if he were told this a few months ago he wouldn’t have even considered believing it. He would think it was a joke, or that Akira was experiencing some kind of psychotic episode. 

The thing is, it actually makes a lot of sense. The inconsistencies, and how Akira seems to know things, can be explained by this. By time travel. Even if it seems a little insane. Even if it should be impossible. This is Akira he’s talking about.

So he absolutely believes him. And they’re going to figure this out, whatever it is. Akira is telling him for a reason, and he just needs to know why. 

“That’s alright. Why do you think you have to tell me? Not that I don’t appreciate your trust, but I assume there’s a reason.” 

“You believe me?” Akira whispers. 

“What? Of course I do. I can tell when you’re lying, and this isn’t a lie. It’s not really too out there, the Metaverse has been able to do impossible things before. You have always known everything, even things you couldn’t possibly know. I’ve been building a puzzle for a while now, and this is a perfectly fitting final few pieces. So I believe you,” Goro assures him. 

“You’re right. I’m telling you for a reason. Shido’s Palace, it–it never goes well. You…you always die,” Akira chokes out. 

Goro’s heart feels like ice in his chest. His suspicions were correct then, he was never going to live through his revenge. That was something he accepted when he started on this path, but to hear it actually confirmed is chilling. His future so clearly laid out.

But maybe if he knows, he can prevent it. He can live. Maybe. 

“But I’ve never known before,” Goro reminds him. “Now I know. I can be careful. Alright? This is all going to work out.” 

Akira sniffles, and in his eyes it looks like he doesn’t believe Goro for a second. But outwardly, he nods slowly. 

The fact that Goro knows pretty much breaks reality as they know it. Everything changes, shifts, melts and reforms. Nobody else can know. But because the two of them do, Akira speaks freely to him about the future. And, about the past. 

Akira doesn’t tell him exactly how many times he’s done this, but Goro gathers it’s been a long, long time. Just based on Akira’s actions, and how he responds to things. Like he’s a little numb to it all. Sometimes things still get to him, but not often. It’s all become predictable, and Goro can only imagine how much that can wear a person out. 

The fact that he can still stick to his morals, and even love people, that’s a miracle. He really did pick the right North Star. 

“You’ve always known I smoked,” Goro brings up. 

Akira tosses the pack Goro gave him in the trash, then dusts his hands off then puts them on his hips. 

“Yes. I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time,” he answers. 

“Have I never quit before?” 

Akira shakes his head. He pulls a face, eyes becoming dull, but then brightening again. 

“I tried, but you just weren’t…I don’t know, you weren’t ready,” Akira whispers. “But it seems like you are now.” 

“I’m ready now,” Goro confirms. 

Another time he asks, “Do I usually work with you? Or do I typically work against you?” 

“It depends. Usually? You work against me. You try to kill me in the interrogation room, you try to kill Okumura, you try to kill me again in Shido’s Palace. Sometimes I can get you on my side, but even then you aren’t really working with me, not exactly.” Akira shrugs. “This is the best it’s ever been between us.” 

One night he asks the big question. He really wasn’t planning on it, it wasn’t something he felt he needed to know, but the curiosity has been getting to him a little bit. 

He presses his forehead to Akira’s back, they’ve been cuddling like this for a while, but it’s clear neither of them are asleep yet. 

“Have you done this part before? Have we ever been together like this?” he murmurs. 

He feels it when Akira tenses, and also when he relaxes again. 

“Only once. Only the first time,” Akira tells him. “Not again after that, because I refused to be the one to ask you. Not in the position I was in of knowing everything.” 

The first time. How long has it been since then? How long has Akira loved him?

The first time. Goro thinks that he’s loved Akira that long too. Even though he couldn’t remember that. It was going to get to a breaking point eventually. 

“Except for this time, right? Because I was the one to ask. Had I never asked before? Really?” 

He doesn’t ask how many times it’s been. He doesn’t know if Akira would be willing to answer that particular question. 

“No. Never. Until now.” 

Goro knows exactly what he’s walking into when he steps into the engine room with the rest of the Phantom Thieves. Akira warned him, again and again, reminding him as if he could ever forget. But Goro understands that Akira is just afraid. Afraid to lose him here again, like he has many times before. 

Goro can even sense it, as he steps forward, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. A dread deep in his soul. A sense of impending doom. He gathers that has to do with these time loops as well, that some part of him does remember things. Not nearly to the extent that Akira does, but enough to have brought him here. Enough for him to feel afraid. 

“Tread carefully,” Robin Hood warns him. 

All their planning doesn’t really matter in the end. Goro is beginning to believe that this is simply his fate, and one which can’t be changed. If he’s died in loop after loop in this room, well this is just his grave. He didn’t want to believe it, but when his cognition easily gains the upper hand against them, he suspects that it’s the truth. No matter how powerful they are, how carefully they plan, not even if they know it’s coming, there’s no escaping this. 

The gods intend for him to die here, so he will die. No amount of time manipulation or love was ever going to save him. He’s not going down without a fight, though. He won’t lay down and die, not now. He turns to tell Akira this, even with a gun leveled at his head, but Akira isn’t looking at him at all. 

There is a hatred deep in his eyes that Goro has never seen. Akira has never expressed anything near this intensity. Any anger is usually fabricated, treated as a joke. The only disdain Goro has truly seen from him is towards Shido. Even that doesn’t match the sheer force of this fire. As it burns, Akira’s form shudders, and then it all starts to melt. That’s the best way Goro can think to describe it. Akira’s mask starts melting off his face, becoming less solid, then dripping in uneven droplets down his cheeks. He reaches up as if to catch it, but it all just settles and congeals in his palm. It moves independently, like it has a mind of its own. He’s panting, Goro can’t tell if it’s in pain or rage. 

Goro notes, uncomfortably, sickly, that with the black bleeding down Akira’s face; he looks like a mental shutdown victim.

Akira shivers, and with the movement, his clothes start to change too. His Metaverse outfit is replaced with his Shujin uniform. It’s like everything that makes him a Phantom Thief is leaving him all at once, being purged from his form. 

“I was looking to kill my backstabbing double first, but…I sense something from the leader over there. If it endangers the captain, be sure–” 

Goro’s cognition is cut off suddenly. Although Goro is watching Akira and not the enemies they’re facing, he can only guess at what just happened. A jagged piece of molten black and white…something, has emerged from the mess on Akira’s hand. As Goro follows the shape of it, he sees how it’s pierced through his cognition’s chest. The gun the thing was holding is mangled beyond recognition. 

“Joker,” Goro says. “That’s enough.” 

His heart is pounding. He feels like things are about to spiral out of control very quickly, and he has maybe seconds before it does. 

But he’s already too late. 

Akira twists his hand, and the Shadows that were also surrounding them suddenly burst into red mist as this long spear branches and cuts through them as well. Akira laughs incredulously, a short sound. 

“What is this?” Akira whispers, staring down at his hand. “This power. It’s amazing.” 

“You have to stop him.” 

From what? What does Robin Hood expect him to do? 

Akira snaps his hand back out, sending those shooting spears towards a point on the far wall. There’s a shattering sound, and then an alarm. An announcement sounds off, and Akira’s voice perfectly overlaps with it as he mocks, “The watertight bulkhead door has closed. All personnel within the partition wall evacuate at once.” 

A wall begins to raise, but the moment it so much as gets an inch out of the ground, Akira grabs it. His fingers curl around it, the metal creaking and breaking underneath his touch. It’s solid steel, but Akira crumples it like it’s paper. He tears into it, until it gets stuck where it is, the metal warped and ripped apart. He laughs maniacally as he does. He stands there, hunched over it. 

“Okay,” Akira breathes. “Okay.” 

It seems like he’s done, but then he stumbles. He groans, dropping to his knees clutching at his head. He hits the ground hard, the loud thud reverberating in the room. Then Akira screams, at the very top of his lungs, leaving Goro’s ears ringing and hurting. He starts to reach for Akira, but something makes him pause. Something tells him danger. He starts to push through it anyway. 

“Don’t. What’s happening to him can’t be stopped now,” Morgana tells him gravely. 

“What’s happening?” Goro demands, though he listens and doesn’t go any further. 

Akira shrieks in pain, throwing his head back as somehow his voice gets louder and louder. And then, something breaks. There’s a tearing sound, and another form…a body, rips itself out of Akira. It stands, and Akira collapses immediately to the floor, limp and unconscious. Though he’s relatively unharmed. No blood, though he may end up covered in bruises again. 

This new person, he turns to Goro. 

It’s Akira too, well, something like him. His eyes shine yellow, and he wears a dark blue and black suit with yellow buttons. His hair is different too, gray and hidden underneath a hat. He flips open the book in his hands, muttering something before he snaps it shut. 

Goro watches in terror as chains snake out of the closed pages, wrapping around Akira’s prone form and literally dragging him through the floor. Everything seems to simply, bend to this Shadow’s will. 

“You should leave,” he comments. 

He tosses the book up in the air and it disappears. He spreads his arms out and begins to pull, as if he has some invisible line he’s holding. The entire ship begins to move, rocking violently. 

“Shit!” Ryuji swears, getting thrown to the side. 

Goro grabs Morgana before he can go flying, pulling him to his chest.

“Um, he’s right! We gotta get out of here, the Palace is unstable, it could collapse!” Futaba’s voice informs them. 

The Shadow tosses a ball at their feet, Goro recognizes it as a Goho-M. As it goes off, they’re all teleported to the entrance, and they’re quick to leave the Metaverse. 

But as they stand on the outskirts of the Diet Building, a quick glance around confirms his worries. 

Akira isn’t with them. 

“I’m going back in,” Goro insists, pulling his phone from his pocket.

His hands are shaking. He tries to force them to steady so he can get to the MetaNav, but it only gets worse. 

He just can’t leave Akira there. He has to get a hold of himself. Akira needs him. Goro may have lived through this, but he’s getting worried that Akira won’t at this rate. 

Come on, get it together. 

“No.” Futaba takes the phone from him. “It’s too dangerous. We have to wait for the situation to stabilize.”

“Akira—“

“I care about Akira too! But he wouldn’t want everyone to die trying to save him,” she interrupts. 

She’s right. But that doesn’t matter. That’s because Akira doesn’t care one bit what happens to him. It’s up to them to care about those things, or Akira would die a thousand times to stop them from hurting. 

“Besides…I think that—I mean that was a Shadow. You don’t think it was really from Akira, was it?” Ann brings up.

“Persona users shouldn’t be able to form Palaces, but that seems to be the case,” Morgana says.

“Well Akira’s mask literally melted off him! And if that thing isn’t a Palace Leader man I dunno what is,” Ryuji scoffs. 

Goro shakes his head. He needs to think. All of this chatter is distracting him. 

“Listen!” he barks, then takes a deep breath when everyone turns to look at him. “Alright. All this is great and all, but I can’t just leave Akira in there. I’m sure you all feel the same. If it were me, he wouldn’t stop until he knew I was safe. I can’t abandon him when he might need me.” 

That’s not who he is anymore. He’s not going to run away at the first sign of danger. He owes Akira more than that. 

He owes Akira absolutely everything. He actually can’t believe nobody else is on his side right now. Do they even care? What a joke. This has to be a joke. 

“I know how you feel. I care about Akira a lot, but there’s nothing we’re going to be able to do like this. We just have to regroup when the Palace is more stable again,” Haru tells him, setting a hand on his shoulder. 

Goro wants to shrug her off, but he doesn’t. Because she’s right. 

Goro isn’t any use to Akira with no information, charging into a dangerous situation. Even though his heart feels like it’s breaking in his chest to leave Akira there by himself. He’s so afraid. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if…he can’t think it. 

But without Akira, the truth is Goro has no idea what to do. He has no context on if this has ever happened before, or how it went, or what Akira would do. He has to handle this himself. 

“I think we go home for now. I’ll keep an eye on the state of the Palace, and the moment I think it’s safe, we go in,” Futaba says. 

No. He’s not on his own. 

He has the Phantom Thieves. Even if he can’t exactly tell them everything, they’re still here for him. 

He makes eye contact with Futaba, realizing for the first time that the anger she once held every time she looked at him is gone. Instead, she looks at him with complete understanding. 

“Okay,” Goro agrees, nodding. 

He says nothing else. He can’t. If he does, he’s worried he’ll just start crying. 

When he lays in his bed that night, with Morgana curled up on his chest, he feels useless. And he’s angry at himself. He thinks that maybe…maybe this is what he gets for not just laying down and dying like he was supposed to. He wouldn’t doubt that it’s something the universe would come up with. Him or Akira. And given the choice, Goro would choose Akira. 

But this time the choice was given to Akira. And he chose Goro. 

He shouldn’t feel so surprised. It’s not as if he would’ve done any differently in the same position. Still. It doesn’t feel very fair, does it? 

Goro sits in Leblanc, staring blankly into his cup of black coffee. Sojiro asked what Akira usually made him, but he couldn’t bring himself to describe it.

How could he bear to tell Sojiro that Akira always made him exactly what he wanted? As if the boy could sense his mood and needs at any given moment, and assign him the perfect cup of coffee. It was always just right. 

So instead he just asked for anything, black. It’s the first time he’s ever let Sojiro make him coffee. It tastes like shit. It has nothing to do with the taste or technique, Sojiro has brewed it wonderfully. It just isn’t Akira, and so the bitterness stands out on Goro’s tongue. 

It’s been nine days since the engine room. A long, long nine days. The Palace no longer exists. Shido’s Palace is gone. Shido himself has withdrawn from the election, and Goro can’t help but feel there’s something deeper going on here. What exactly that is, he isn’t sure yet. 

Goro has begun to wonder if Akira is even still alive. He’s developing a theory that he doesn’t like but nonetheless has to consider; Akira brought down Shido’s Palace from the inside, and perished in the ensuing collapse. Goro is starting to feel desperate and restless. As they continue on with no real updates on the situation, he thinks they’re all getting a little crazy. Haru secretly expressed to him that she just wants to rush in there too, but she knows it wouldn’t do any good and that’s the only reason she hasn’t. He agreed wholeheartedly with her. 

Futaba is doing research into it, but that doesn’t exactly help Goro sleep at night. His phone buzzes and he checks it. His whole body feels numb, something he’s started to get used to. There’s a slight tingling feeling in his fingertips as he picks up his phone, but that’s it. That’s all he feels. 

It’s Futaba telling them what she’s found. Akira’s Palace. 

“Any updates?” Sojiro asks him. 

“I have to go,” Goro says, scrambling out of his chair. “I—we’re going in. We have a lead.”

“So he’s alive?” Sojiro’s voice pitches up into something hopeful, something Goro hasn’t heard in nine days. 

Something Goro himself hasn’t felt in nine days either, hope. 

“Yes? Yes! He’s alive!” Goro laughs. 

It all hits him at once, the feelings he’s been holding back. He raises his shaking hands to his mouth. He still has a chance. Akira isn’t out of his reach. He can still save him. 

Thank goodness.

“Thank goodness,” he whispers into his palm.

Sojiro’s arms suddenly wrap around him, the older man pulling him into a tight hug. At first, Goro isn’t sure how he feels about it. But as his shoulders tremble, and relief floods into him, he reaches out and hugs Sojiro back. 

It feels like it’s been the two of them against…everything, for the past nine days. Goro’s been here every day, drinking black coffee and eating whatever Sojiro puts in front of him. Sometimes he goes back to his apartment to sleep, sometimes he sleeps in the attic, and just once he slept in the spare room in Sojiro’s house. He’s been reluctant to be on his own, so Morgana follows him everywhere he goes. They’ve really done a lot for him, stopped him from rushing directly into danger. No matter how worried sick he’s been. The two of them have made sure that Goro’s feet stay firmly on the ground. 

No matter what he might’ve done. Even to someone Sojiro cared about deeply. He sometimes wonders how the man doesn’t hate him. 

“You be careful,” Sojiro tells him gruffly. “I don’t want you getting hurt either, you hear me?” 

“I understand. I’ll be back tonight,” he promises. 

Sojiro lets him go, placing a hand on the side of his head, smoothing his hair back a little. His eyes become very serious, then. 

The sudden affection and concern from him is confusing. As long as Goro has known Sojiro, he’s always been rather…stoic. Goro sort of figured he was just the kind of man who kept his feelings to himself. It wasn’t something Goro really minded, he used to be the exact same way before Akira entered his life and uprooted everything. 

“I mean it,” Sojiro says. 

Maybe Akira has changed Sojiro too. Maybe this whole situation has done something to all of them. 

Sojiro must be really worried. Goro wants to do what he can to help that. It’s not just Akira who’s in danger, but also Futaba going into this unknown situation. 

“I know. I mean it too. If I’m not careful, I won’t be of any use to Akira,” Goro assures him. 

It’s the truth. If for nothing else, he won’t let Sojiro have no one come home to him at the end of all this. And he’ll do his best to make sure Sojiro doesn’t lose anyone else. 

“Alright. Look after everyone.” 

When they enter the Palace, their clothes don’t change. It’s the first time Goro has ever entered the Metaverse and not been considered “a threat” to whoever it is he’s infiltrating. 

Strangely enough, Goro can’t say that this isn’t still Shido’s Palace, in some way. Even though the keywords have changed (Akira Kurusu, Japan, Prison), Goro can still see the ghost of Shido’s Palace in the waterlogged buildings and wet ground, and most of all; the wreck of the cruise ship. 

All of Japan is a prison. It’s a distortion which hurts Goro’s heart. Especially that he didn’t realize how much Akira was struggling until it was far too late. 

“There is only so much you can predict the wildcard. But we will save him, our Maid Marian.” 

Goro nods to himself. His head throbs distantly, but he shakes it off. Focus, he just has to focus. He can’t get swept away by his emotions. This is too important.

“It’s eerie here,” Ann comments, rubbing her arms. “And cold.” 

The ship creaks and groans in the otherwise completely silent space, the metal settling in its new grave. 

Ann is right. It’s freezing. Wind absolutely howls through the streets, and the temperature makes Goro feel like it’s the dead of winter. He starts walking anyway, towards the direction of the shipwreck. He figures that’s where it is, Akira’s Palace. He can see chains wrapping around the outside of it, constricting it, holding it down. 

Goro’s never seen anything like it. It’s like a…like a parasite, like it’s taken over the previous Palace. Using it as a host to grow, destroying everything as it does. And it’s Akira’s doing. It feels unbelievable in those ways, but he sees it. It’s right in front of him. 

Can’t deny it, can’t close his eyes to it. All he can do is march right up to it. 

Goro has spent the better part of three years exploring these places, but this is completely foreign to him. 

The opening to the main part of the Palace is what’s left of the engine room. The wall of it is torn out, the wreckage laying some ways off to the side. The inside is mangled, the bulkhead door broken. But it’s intact enough to navigate, as long as they’re careful. 

“Help each other,” Goro commands without thinking. 

He climbs inside before turning to hold his hand out. He hefts Haru inside when she takes it. 

Then he pauses, staring down at Makoto when he turns to help the next person. She’s staring at him. It’s not quite a glare, there’s too much confusion in it. 

He realizes he’s taken over leading in Akira’s absence, and nobody else is questioning it. But Makoto looks a little like she wants to challenge it. She’s probably a better fit anyway. People will listen to her.

“If that’s–” 

“No,” she cuts him off. “It’s fine.” 

She takes his hand, and he lifts her up into the opening too. Once everyone gets safely inside, Goro puts himself back in front. It’s…kind of a mess in here, so he navigates first and lets everyone follow behind him. He hopes he’s finding the safest path through, but it’s kind of hard to tell with the state of this place. Goro hopes the entire Palace isn’t this bad, and he assumes it probably isn’t. No reason for Akira to hate a place more than he clearly hated this one. 

The moment he steps through the threshold into the rest of the ship, an alarm goes off. He stops suddenly, putting his arms out so nobody else steps forward. As suddenly as it started, it stops. 

“I see. It’s just you. No cause for alarm.” 

Akira’s Shadow rounds the corner. He’s much the same as the last time Goro saw him, although now there are chains wrapped around his whole body. They clink together as he walks, the rattling reminding Goro somewhat of the Reaper who would sometimes hunt him in the winding tunnels of Mementos. 

“Akira, you don’t have to do this–” Ann blurts out. 

“Akira? No. Akira sleeps at the heart of this place. I’m not exactly him, but I guess it’s not incorrect to assume that we’re one in the same. But now we’re separated, so you ought to call me something else before we all get confused. Joker, maybe? No…too obvious, too close, I think,” the Shadow rambles, clicking his tongue. “Let’s go with Trickster instead.” 

Trickster, then. Whatever, what exactly Goro can call this doesn’t matter to him. 

“You’ve done what you set out to do, didn’t you?” Goro questions. 

It’s been bothering him. He assumes that the whole reason this all happened was because Akira didn’t want him to die in the engine room again. So all of this was formed in order to prevent that, and it worked. So why is it still here? How has it grown? 

“Yes, mostly,” Trickster answers, tilting his head. 

“I’m perfectly safe now. So where’s the treasure? I see no reason not to let us take it now and get rid of this place,” Goro points out. 

“Oh, my dear Detective. You aren’t thinking ahead,” Trickster laughs, tipping his head back with it. 

His grin is wolfish when he steps closer to Goro, chains dragging behind him. 

“There are other things that will get in my way, other things that threaten you and the others,” he continues. “And as long as I keep eating and building my power, I will be able to bind them to me just the same as I did to Shido. And I will drag them down to the depths of Hell.” 

Trickster grins, chuckling under his breath as he turns and walks away from them. 

“Wait! We can’t just leave you like this…you know that,” Futaba brings up. 

There’s a waver in her voice. Uncertainty. 

“Obviously. We’ll steal the treasure if you won’t give it to us,” Goro supports her. 

“Steal it? From me?” Trickster laughs again, louder. 

This time, his voice layers over itself. It sounds like a whole group of people laughing, overlapping. He turns to face them again, his yellow eyes flashing dangerously. In an instant, each of them change into their Metaverse clothes. Goro tries not to take it personally as he looks down at his princely attire. This isn’t really about him anyway. 

“It’s fine. We will steal it without fail.” Robin Hood comforts him. 

“Don’t be foolish, everyone. You can’t beat me. Not even if you all work together, which I highly doubt you can do without a Leader! Well, if you would like to try so badly, I’m not going to stop you. Please don’t be too upset when you fail though, you’re all very powerful,” Trickster says. “It’s not your fault I couldn’t train you to be stronger than me. And please, try not to die here. I think that would upset Akira and I very much. Bye, I wish you good thieving.” 

With a spin, and the loud sound of chains breaking, Trickster disappears. 

The Palace is strange. Goro has never seen anything like it before. It all shows clear signs of something like an infection taking place. It’s the chains, they’re everywhere. They wrap around everything, coiling as if they’re alive. Sometimes they reach out for the Phantom Thieves too, but always recoil when they touch, like they can recognize them somehow. 

When Goro has to push them out of the way, they shudder at his touch. Because of that, Goro assumes that in some way they must be connected back to Akira or Trickster. Maybe both. Either way, they always move out of his way. 

The Shadows in the Palace are all pretty strong, although they’re few and far between. But when every fight with them is an uphill battle, Goro is glad for it. They even seem to be smarter than your average Shadow, able to analyze and retain information during their fight. Targeting weaknesses and healers, it’s an unbelievable show of awareness. Goro wonders if it’s because in Akira’s point of view, as someone who houses many of these Shadows in his soul, they simply are this diverse and intelligent and strong. 

Regardless of the reason, Goro takes the charge during these fights. He tries not to exactly demand things of the team, but by the time they get to their fourth fight and they’re all pretty worse for wear, he barks out orders left and right. There’s no other way, they need some semblance of order or they’re never going to make it through this. 

Trickster said it himself. 

And Goro will take the position if nobody else steps up, and nobody has. Well, he thinks Makoto might have, but she took too long. If she hesitates to do so, then she shouldn’t be in charge. They need someone who won’t hesitate in this place, especially because it’s Akira. And at the end of the day, even if Akira begs him not to, Goro will steal the treasure. Because he wants what’s best for Akira, not what Akira asks of him. 

The inside of the Palace looks almost like it’s undergoing renovations of some kind. Parts of the ship have been destroyed and replaced by rows and rows of jail cells. They’re all empty, although Goro gets the sense that that’s just how it is for now. And that eventually, they’ll end up filled. By who or what, Goro isn’t really sure. He doesn’t know if that’s a detail that matters or not. 

“We still haven’t found a safe room,” Ryuji complains. 

He leans against a nearby wall, halfway hiding behind it, but also clearly resting too. 

“I know. I’m doing my best,” Futaba tells them. “But there’s some sort of interference that’s making mapping this place difficult.” 

“It’s fine. I’ve had my eye out for one,” Goro sighs. 

He’s sure that eventually they’ll find one. There can’t be absolutely none, this Palace has been strange and unlike any of the ones they’ve been in before, but to have no safe rooms feels almost like it’s going too far. Like it’s a core aspect of these places that can’t just be missing. The same way that Palaces have treasures and Shadows and rulers. If this is a Palace, there has to be a safe room. Somewhere. 

“Pushing past your limits isn’t going to help anything.” 

Goro jumps, staring over at where…he’s standing. It must be a cognition, obviously.  

He’s wearing some sort of metal armor, and a loose fitted piece of cloth over it which drapes over his shoulder. But the most striking part of him is certainly the giant wings which sprout out of his back. 

“Why should I listen to you?” Goro huffs, stalking up to the mirrored image of him, warped as it is. 

“Why shouldn’t you? You’re looking for a safe room, aren’t you? There’s one around here. I could take you to it,” he offers. 

But there’s something about him. In his eyes. That’s not really Goro in there, not fully. Well, maybe there is, but if so it’s hidden underneath the false personality of the Detective Prince. 

“How do we know you aren’t working for Akira–or, um, Trickster?” Haru asks. 

“Yeah. You’re his cognition, aren’t you? It makes sense that you’d be helping him,” Morgana brings up. 

“Don’t be silly. The Trickster and I are never on the same side. It’s sort of the point of everything. I thought that much would be obvious,” the Prince scoffs. “So if he’s trying to stop you, I’m going to help you. Take it or not, it doesn’t particularly matter to me.” 

Goro feels when several people turn their gaze towards him. They try to hide it, but they’re not very secretive about it. 

“Fine. Show it to me,” Goro agrees. 

He figures that even if it is a trap, he can deal with it. But if this cognition is telling the truth, then they have a lot to gain. Not too much to lose, not when they’re bumbling around like this. Getting more lost, or getting into a fight, not so different from what they’ve already been doing. 

“It’s here. Rest. I suggest you leave for today. You’re incredibly underprepared.” 

Then the Prince spreads his wings and takes off, disappearing around a corner nearly instantly. He’s fast. 

Goro shakes it off, reaching for the door in front of him and pulling it open. He can feel the moment he touches the doorknob that it’s a safe room, they all give off a certain aura that’s very distinct. 

When he pulls the door open, he’s struck by the familiarity immediately. It’s the Jazz Jin. The singer croons nearby, and there are drinks waiting for them at a nearby table. When Goro sits down, he notes that one is his favorite. The one he always orders when he goes there with Akira. When he drinks it, he feels his battle injuries being soothed. 

“Sit,” he tells everyone. “It’s safe. Pick a drink, they’ll help with the exhaustion.” 

Everyone takes their own seats. Haru sits beside him, Morgana on the table in front of him. Surprisingly, it’s Makoto who takes his other side. 

Yusuke and Futaba are tucked in a booth next to each other. Futaba lays down entirely on the seat with her laptop set on her lap, and Yusuke sketches something. Ryuji sits on the edge of the same booth, his leg bouncing in what Goro assumes is a nervous tick. 

Ann is standing in front of the singer with her drink, seemingly completely enraptured by the performance. He can’t blame her. She sounds just like in real life, singing that same song as the night Goro was finally sure Akira wasn’t working for Shido. Her voice really is beautiful. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever really admired that as much as he is right now. 

There’s a TV that he eventually notices. He slips out of his seat to go up and inspect it. When he touches the screen, it flickers on. At first it only displays static, but then it focuses. It’s him. He’s saying something completely inaudible, wearing a half-fake smile. It looks like he’s in the TV station, he can see the lights behind him although they’re slightly out of focus. Then he reaches his hand out, and as the view shifts down, he sees Akira’s hand reach out to shake his. It must be showing him this, from Akira’s point of view, from his eyes. But it isn’t a scene he recognizes, not at all. He did give that interview at the TV station that day, but Akira was notably absent. It must be from another timeline. The TV turns off, and Goro goes and sits back down. He’ll gather more information, but there’s not much for him to go off of right now. 

Goro isn’t sure if he should listen to his cognition or not. It’s true that the Prince is right, they’re underprepared for this. He didn’t realize really what he was getting himself into, he was so anxious to get in here and make sure Akira was okay. He didn’t have time to prepare, it just didn’t seem important at the time. But it’s becoming clear that they’re in way over their heads. It makes sense, Akira is far more powerful than any of them. Even given normal circumstances that would be true, let alone Akira having lived this life over and over again. Getting better at it every time. 

And Goro doesn’t think anyone else even knows about the…the time aspect of this. He isn’t going to bring it up, it isn’t exactly his secret to tell. Not to mention, he thinks it would unnecessarily complicate matters. It could cause panic or confusion, maybe even anger or other feelings of betrayal. Goro doesn’t really feel that way about it, but he can see how others could. 

“We’ve confirmed Akira is alive. I think we should go back to reality for now. I’ll gather more supplies for us, and maybe take us to Mementos for some training,” Goro announces, standing in place. “Come back when we’re more ready for this.”

“I’m worried about Akira. Will he really be okay here?” Haru hums, turning to look up at him. 

“He shouldn’t come to harm in his own Palace. But we can return tomorrow, so he doesn’t have to wait regardless.” 

Despite his own words, Goro struggles to sleep that night. He lays in Akira’s bed in the attic, his face pressed into the pillow. It smells like Akira. Warmth, coffee, and vanilla. It means that he doesn’t feel like he’ll be up all night. If he can just close his eyes and pretend hard enough, that anxiety won’t be able to find him. The fear that everything will go wrong, and he’ll lose Akira. It won’t reach him. 

He can’t lose Akira if he just pretends that the boy is right here. 

He falls asleep sometime after Morgana starts purring on his chest. 

The next day, Goro meets some of Akira’s contacts. A doctor and an ex-yakuza arms dealer. They seem to take Goro’s money just fine once he mentions he’s being sent on an errand for Akira. The ex-yakuza, Iwai, even seems to know who he is. 

“You’re that Akechi kid. The one Akira never shuts up about,” Iwai grunts. “Recognize that marketable face anywhere. Pick out what you need, Akira mentioned you might stop by here sometime. For the model weapons, only, you hear? Long as you have the money and keep your mouth shut, you’re welcome here.” 

So Goro picks out what he needs, keeps his mouth shut, and hands Iwai the money he’s owed. 

He doesn’t so much like interacting with the doctor. Takemi, her name is. He’s heard of her, in the infamous sense. And he doesn’t like how she refers to Akira as her “guinea pig”; it sets his nerves right on edge. He’s actually not a fan of how some of these people in Akira’s life treat him, he finds that several of them seem like they’re using the boy in some way. Whatever is going on there, it isn’t true connection, but something transactional. Goro doesn’t know if that’s how it’s always been, or something that arose from Akira looping time. He doesn’t know if it matters which. 

The longer he spends walking in Akira’s footsteps, the more he begins to understand. All of Japan is a prison. He’s never thought of it that way before, but he thinks he feels similarly. It must be the nature of who they are, of being “wildcards” as Akira puts it. You feel bound by fate, by the entire world around you. There’s no getting away from it, it’s everywhere you go and everyone you try to be. It follows you. But not like someone or something you can shake, more like a…a shadow, your own shadow, attached to you. Unable to be torn away. 

It feels like a prison, for Akira. For Goro, it feels more like a show that never stops. Maybe at their heart, they’re the same thing. 

They find that there are cognitions of all of the Phantom Thieves. Not only them, but seemingly everyone Akira knows. Goro eventually realizes that they’re modeled after Personas. He isn’t sure the exact significance of them, or even what Personas some of them are, but the pattern doesn’t escape him entirely at least. Some of them, he does recognize. He’s seen several of them in Akira’s arsenal at times, so he assumes all of them are Personas Akira has wielded at some point. Exactly when, Goro doesn’t really know. 

Then comes a girl Goro hasn’t seen in a while, and one he’s surprised to see here like this. 

Sumire Yoshizawa. It’s like she’s made of marble. She’s part of a larger piece, carved animals surrounding her body, which is also enveloped in gold.

“Where am I?” she questions. 

Her mouth doesn’t actually move, but neither does most of her body. Except, of course, for her face. That shifts and melts and reforms like it’s made of putty. 

“A–A Palace,” Goro starts to answer her, but gets the sense quickly that he’s misunderstood her. 

It’s not like she really has any expression on her face or body, but the sense of it fills the air. Like she doesn’t need a face to communicate what she needs to. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I didn’t even know you had a Persona at all.” 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted them to know,” Morgana pipes up. 

“Me, me. Her, me. Her, me. It’s so cloudy. It isn’t about wanting or not wanting. The choice, that’s what I crave,” she says. 

Her face twitches, crumbling slightly. Dust and rock fall to the floor. 

“Ask me, her, her, if we will lend you our strength,” she requests. 

In a flash, the Sculpture is gone. 

Goro supposes he’ll have to get her number somehow and see what she wants to do about all this. He figures she’ll want to help, which annoys him slightly. Even more variables in this situation isn’t exactly what he wants, but he owes it to her to at least ask. If she cares about Akira too, then she should be involved in this. Even if it’s going to make it more difficult or complicated for him. 

The next safe room they find is Leblanc. Although only the downstairs, there aren’t actually any stairs leading to the attic whatsoever. Before Goro takes a seat with the others, he locates the TV. It’s in place of the one that usually is mounted up on the wall, just on the ground beneath it. He reaches out and touches the screen gently. 

After some static, it plays the video. 

Akira’s hand tangles in his hair, brushing it out of his face. Goro has a complicated facial expression going on, a mixture between want and fear and determination. Akira starts to pull him in, and then the screen goes black for a few seconds. When the image comes back, Goro is blushing. He pushes Akira and makes a break for the door of Leblanc. As it slams behind him, the TV shuts off. 

Other than simply seeing this place and understanding Akira’s keywords, the first actual insight Goro gets into what’s going on here comes in the form of himself. Well, the Prince anyway. 

Sumire’s cognition, the Sculpture as he named her, was strange. Just in ways that Goro couldn’t say what they mean. He doesn’t have any of those pieces, not really. Maybe some, but certainly not enough to figure out the big picture. 

But the pieces to himself, well, those are all there. Now he’s seen multiple of these cognitions walking around, and he would say that in every case whatever they look like at least somehow gives an inner look into that person. Some, more than others. But there’s always something there that if you just pay enough attention, you see what Akira sees in them. 

At first, he thought his was about his whole body being covered in armor. He thought that’s what Akira saw him as, someone who always felt the need to protect himself. Who only knew how to be guarded, and never shed that careful protection between himself and others. 

But that isn’t it. It’s the wings, isn’t it? He gets this tightness in his chest every time he watches the Prince take off, spreading those huge wings and going soaring through the air. He thinks it’s probably longing. 

And he thinks it’s Akira’s version of letting him go. In turn, letting him be the one who always gets away. In every timeline, every choice Akira makes. He somehow becomes lost in that air, lost to Akira at the very least. He doesn’t know if that makes him free or not. 

Goro’s been trying not to linger on it too much. It’s just something he notices. 

He doesn’t see the one person he wants to see. So how much does it really matter? 

Goro finds Sumire the next day. Morgana thankfully is a big help in locating her, and she recoils slightly when she sees him walking up to her. 

“Akechi-senpai! What…what are you doing here?” 

She reaches up and tightens her ponytail. He feels like, maybe she’s still– 

“Is this about Akira? He told me this might happen,” she continues. 

It doesn’t escape Goro’s notice that this is the second person who’s mentioned Akira giving them some sorts of heads up about this. Goro wonders exactly what it is he was up to, who he told, and why. But there’s no sense in dwelling on that right now. Maybe if he hadn’t changed as much as he did, it would upset him that Akira didn’t mention this possibility to him, but he doesn’t feel like Akira necessarily owes that to him. He wasn’t ready to talk about it, so he didn’t, and that doesn’t bother him. 

“Are you still caught in those delusions?” he asks bluntly. 

“I wish you wouldn’t call them that. But no, I know who I am, if that’s your question. Akira and I have been working on it,” she sighs, glaring lightly at him. “I also wish you’d be a bit nicer.” 

“That’s irrelevant right now. Do you want to come into the Palace with us? That’s what’s gone wrong if you hadn’t realized, Akira has developed a Palace. And I understand you have a Persona as well, so your help would be appreciated.” 

“Are you the Leader now?” Sumire asks, tilting her head curiously. “Akira didn’t tell me about that. I think he thought nobody would lead if he was gone.”  

Goro is starting to feel more and more like Akira was carrying a very heavy weight on his shoulders up until now. Even now, really. Especially now, with Trickster insisting on staying this way just to keep protecting them.  

“Yes. For now, that’s what I’m doing. If that means you won’t join us for any reason, I’ll step down,” he tells her. 

It’s a bluff, in all honesty. He’s certainly not going to step down, not when he believes that he’s the only Phantom Thief who won’t hesitate when it comes down to it. When the Trickster might beg them to stop. When they have to fight that thing with Akira’s face. And he knows he won’t. 

At the end of the day, no matter how much he loves Akira, loving and caring for him is a conscious choice he’s made. That makes it significantly easier for him to do what needs to be done. He’s done plenty of things he hasn’t wanted to in this life he’s made. 

“I didn’t say that. I’m happy to help.”

So Sumire joins them for their next infiltration. Goro explains it to everyone else over text, although he checked in with them beforehand he wants to make double sure now that the answer is yes. Still, nobody seems bothered by the sudden addition to their team, and at least some seem outwardly excited about it. 

The last safe room they were in was Penguin Sniper. While Goro sorts through supplies and briefs Sumire, some of the other Thieves are laughing and playing darts in teams of two. Ann and Haru against Yusuke and Ryuji. Ann and Haru are crushing them. 

Makoto stands beside him, silently scanning his motions, although it seems just for the information rather than because she doesn’t trust him. Which is good progress on their end, he thinks. 

Futaba is still trying to get them something resembling a map, and he hears her every once in a while make a displeased sound. He doesn’t envy her, not with this place constantly shifting. 

Morgana stares at the safe room door. Goro agrees with it deep in his soul, knowing that what they’re seeking is beyond it. 

Once Goro feels sorted enough, he finally goes over to the TV that’s in here. He wasn’t ready for it last time, but this time he brushes his thumb over the screen then crosses his arms to watch. 

This time it isn’t a full video. It’s these clips. Of Goro. They don’t seem to have any individual importance, him playing darts and drinking coffee and sometimes just walking beside Akira. But each of them gets clearer as the clips go on, sharper. More in focus. 

He thinks he’s watching Akira fall in love with him, the first time. He can’t tell if they’ve already kissed yet, and without audio, he has no way of figuring that out. Not really. But he doesn’t think that's the point. 

As he watches Akira’s hand set down a cup of coffee, then the screen fill up with a crystal clear image of himself, he knows that isn’t the point at all. The TV shuts off. 

He gathers the team and opens the door. The Palace changes more every time they enter it, becoming more and more like a huge prison. People are in the jail cells now, but there doesn’t seem to be any pattern in that. Goro isn’t sure who these people are to Akira, exactly, if they are supposed to be anyone specific at all. 

“You’re all still trying?” 

Goro jumps, cursing when the Shadow he was stalking notices him. He starts to reach for his mask, but then Trickster waves his hand, and the Shadow just disappears. 

“Senpai!” Sumire gasps. 

“Hey Sumi. Did Goro convince you to come along?” Trickster asks, stepping towards her. 

Goro is tempted to tell her to step back, but he doesn’t really think Trickster is looking to hurt any of them directly. Unfortunately, he still trusts in Akira at the end of the day. That’s probably a weakness in this case, but he doesn’t think it’s wrong. No version of Akira, Palace or not, would hurt them with his own hands. Through the nature of this place and Shadows…yes, but not like this. 

“No, I wanted to,” Sumire answers. “You’ve done so much for me, so I’d really like to pay you back somehow. And all that gymnastics stuff, you said it was fine, but you already knew it all. Which I didn’t mind, but I’d like to actually help you out.” 

“If you’d really like to help me, you’d get everyone out of here. They don’t really understand what I’m doing here, but maybe you will. Shido is gone, but Maruki isn’t. I’ve done things to try to prevent him from getting worse, but this is a failsafe in case he rises to power anyway. I can bind him just like this, and he can’t hurt anyone,” Trickster explains gently. 

What he’s saying doesn’t really mean a lot to Goro. But the name, Maruki, that’s familiar. That’s the name Akira brought up when he was recovering from the interrogation room, along with Sumire’s. He gathers that there’s something going on between the two. Either in some future that came to pass, or the past and Sumire’s belief that she was her sister. He’s not sure. That isn’t something Akira told him. 

Whatever it is, at the mention of his name, Sumire visibly pales. 

“There are other ways,” she says, but her voice is weak and quiet. 

“Yes. There are, I would say so. But those ways are much more painful and damaging. This…I can take care of things this way. I’m sure of it. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. It’s my fault, that it always happens, I can’t help myself. But this time–” Trickster flicks his eyes towards Goro, “I’ll take care of it. I just need you to trust me. Can you do that?” 

“Maruki? The school counselor? Why would he be an issue?” Ann shakes her head. 

“Sumire. You know he’s dangerous. Tell them,” Trickster insists. 

“I–I know. But, we still can’t leave you like this. It doesn’t feel right. You said to me you were doing what you could to keep him from um, yeah. But this isn’t the way. I’m sorry,” Sumire argues. 

“That’s disappointing. I told you in the hopes you would understand. I knew Goro would never, he’s too stubborn, but I misjudged your own stubbornness. At least when it comes to matters involving me.” Trickster sighs. “That does make this a little more difficult. Well, it’s fine. You’ll never make it to the treasure anyway, I shouldn’t worry too much. Still, I wish you would just listen to me.” 

Interesting. Goro will have to ask Sumire about that later, the way it was phrased almost makes him think she was told a lot more than he would have expected. Maybe he’s not the only one who knows about that part of all this. Well right now he can’t bring it up, so he just lets it go. 

“Whatever you may think, I will be stealing your treasure,” Goro scoffs. 

“If you’d like my heart so much, all you have to do is ask,” Trickster teases. 

Goro rolls his eyes. He doesn’t indulge it. He’s just trying to get a rise out of Goro, and he won’t let him. 

“If you aren’t planning on telling me anything useful, you should fuck off,” he snaps. 

“Do you not hold the same affection for me as you do Akira? That’s fascinating,” Trickster comments. 

Goro shouldn’t rise to the bait. Really. He isn’t even sure what anyone thinks his relationship is with Akira, well maybe except for Morgana. Morgana knows the nature of them, and he at least hasn’t seemed bothered by that. Everyone else, it isn’t like he’s told them anything. He isn’t sure if Akira similarly hasn’t brought it up. 

But even in this place, even with Trickster, he can’t stand the thought of anyone believing that he doesn’t love Akira with his whole being. 

“It’s not like that. I hold affection for you, of course I do. But you’re all the parts of Akira that don’t trust me, that pull away. That insist on shouldering every burden. Those used to be the silent parts, but now with this they’re the loud ones. You’re the loud one. I’m helping the only way I know how, going straight through. You might not want me to, but I’m not very concerned with what you want. So long as I’m doing what’s best for you.”  

By the time Goro is done speaking, Trickster’s eyes have become remarkably dull. 

“Then you’re a worse partner than I thought,” he lies, then laughs, that strange sound like an entire crowd of people has erupted into laughter. “You should leave. Before I really get annoyed.”

Goro doesn’t take it to heart. Akira is hurting, and it’s a lie even so. An obvious one. Trickster doesn’t even try to avert his eyes. The words still feel like a shard to Goro’s heart. His chest is tight. 

It doesn’t matter. 

“That won’t be happening,” he says as calmly as he can. 

“Do you want to fight? Is that what you want? Will that finally convince you that this is all pointless? You’re weak! How else can I say it?! Get out before you all get yourselves killed!” Trickster shouts. 

He doesn’t mean it. It’s not exactly a lie, but the reason he says it has nothing to do with what he genuinely thinks. Goro has gotten to know Akira very well in the last several months, likely not as well as Akira knows him, but he tries. And this outburst, it’s coming from a place of fear. 

A fear that Goro has seen come up more and more the closer they get to the end of this – the fear of loss. He thinks of what he can say, there has to be something that will soothe this. 

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you want, but we aren’t going to stop. You should understand that this isn’t something we can just run away from,” Morgana points out. 

“Whatever,” Trickster spits. “Go on then. But don’t come crying when you simply can’t do it.” 

With that, he’s gone. 

Goro should’ve said something sooner. 

“I didn’t know you two were dating,” Ann mentions weakly. 

It makes several of the Thieves laugh, which is a valuable thing right now. Goro pushes air out of his lungs until it feels less like he’s being crushed. 

“Yeah. Though I get the sense there’s trouble in paradise right now,” Goro jokes in a deadpan. 

That makes the rest of them laugh. 

It helps to lessen the genuine pain he feels. 

Progressing in the Palace is starting to feel a lot like wading through molasses. It’s unbelievably difficult and slow, which Goro assumes has to do with their confrontation with Trickster. Now the chains actively try to block their progress, although they still move aside when Goro touches them. But now they avoid his touch like the plague. They twist and recoil from his hand when he reaches for them. In that way, they’ve been very effective at barring their entry from parts of the Palace. 

Eventually Goro simply decides to cut his losses and leave for the day. Maybe give Trickster some time to cool down, and give them some time to train. 

But first, he pulls Sumire aside after sending Morgana and the others ahead. She looks nervous, shifting from foot to foot as she glances around. Her ponytail swings back and forth. 

“Sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asks. 

“No. It’s not that. It’s just that I’m worried I said the wrong thing and you just figured out something you shouldn’t have,” she dismisses. “You’re just too smart.” 

Now he’s sure. If he wasn’t before (which he practically was), that told him all he needed to know. 

“If you’re worried I found out about the time travel because of you, don’t be. Akira told me himself,” he assures her. 

“So he told you too. That shouldn’t surprise me.” 

“No, though it certainly surprises me that he told you. I was under the impression I was the only one he told, and that when he did, he had never shared that information with anyone else,” Goro hums. 

He doesn’t feel jealous exactly. Though it wouldn’t be wrong to describe it that way. It’s just that he can’t understand why Sumire of all people is in the loop. If he had to guess who else Akira would be willing to tell about all of this, Sumire would not be high on his list. 

“He only told me very recently. And not really everything, just the things that had to do with me. He was just trying to protect me from Maruki,” she explains. “Um. It won’t interfere with anything. I’ll keep it quiet.” 

There it is again, this thing about Maruki. Goro could continue to question Sumire until he got all the information out of her that’s been hidden from him. He gets the idea there’s another puzzle that needs putting together, and that Sumire has those pieces. But he doesn’t ask her any more questions. 

“Thank you. I’ll message you when I decide to bring us into Mementos,” he tells her. 

He will wait. He wants to hear it from Akira. 

Goro doesn’t like Mementos. It reminds him too much of doing hits for Shido for him to find much joy in it. It’s also not so great when you have no one to watch your back, when any Shadow could knock you on your ass and threaten your life. When the Reaper stalks you seemingly for fun, making you feel like you’re going crazy as you hear the distant sound of chains rattling. 

He has a team with him, but it doesn’t really help that feeling of loneliness. It persists no matter how many people are around him. He feels somewhat empty, not having Akira by his side. 

He grew too used to that. 

Now it isn’t like Goro has never run into Jose in all his time in the Metaverse, that would be a statistical wonder. But he’s never actually really interacted with the boy before. They did business once or twice, but really not much more than that. 

“Hi Mister. This is for you,” Jose says when they meet him. 

He hands over a gun that, although Goro’s never seen it before, is perfect for him. It slots into his palm perfectly, the power of it lightly humming against his skin. He doesn’t need to ask who it’s from. Ever since Akira’s Palace formed, he’s continually found things that were left behind for him. Connections and things and clues, like a path Akira carved for him to walk. And he’s been walking it in an effort to better know Akira. He isn’t sure yet if it’s working or not. 

He just knows that without being able to actually see his North Star; this is helping him stay on the right track. 

Goro thinks they’re stronger by the time he decides they’ve trained enough. Maybe not as strong as he wants them all to be, but he hopes it’s enough to give them some sort of edge. Mementos was starting to give him the creeps. 

Enough that they’re prepared to go into the Palace again, but he hadn’t quite considered that it’s more than just physical. That this isn’t any Palace, it belongs to Akira. This infiltration is of his mind. 

It’s a room full of TVs that does it. They all emit this high pitched humming sound, although none of them are actually on. 

Getting here wasn’t easy. The chains didn’t want them anywhere near here, but Futaba seemed convinced this was the way forward, so they kept going around until they found an opening they could use. Even this small entrance was guarded by powerful Shadows.  

Up until now, the Palace was fairly impersonal. Sure it was full of Akira’s confidants, who sometimes provided an insight into Akira’s mind, but things relating directly to the boy weren’t really shown. At least…not to anyone else. 

Goro walks up to the TVs and touches one of the screens that he can reach. 

They all begin to flicker on. Rather than each TV showing the same thing, they sort of all piece together like a big puzzle, the full picture only seen through all of them combined. This time, it isn’t from Akira’s point of view, but from third person. 

Several images jump out to Goro through the…the show that comes on. The first is the body of a young girl strung up in the power lines. She hangs upside down, a glassy look in her eyes, swinging ever so slightly in front of the telephone pole. Her body is stuck, caught, tangled. Static overtakes the screen, then clears to show the same young girl with a younger version of Akira. Her wavy hair is now pulled back in a ponytail rather than shrouding her face. Her face, which is the brightest thing on the screen. She puts a plate of food in front of him. He can’t be any older than ten or so, and he smiles brightly up at her with a tooth missing in his smile. She says something inaudible, but the look on her face is stern. Akira’s giggles come through the static just a little, Goro can hear as long as he strains his ears, and then the girl smiles back at him. Bright, blinding. Static. Her hanging body. Static. Her ruffling Akira’s hair. Static. 

The strangest thing is that Goro recognizes this girl. Not personally, not at all, but as a victim of a case he studied. He studied a lot of things relating to the original Detective Prince when he first started all this, and looking into that made it impossible to ignore the string of murders in Inaba. This girl on the TVs, the girl in Akira’s memories; she’s one of the victims. Saki Konishi. 

So it was Inaba, then. The case with Shido was so hushed up that he couldn’t even find out where it happened, but now he knows. Shido must have been there looking into anything relating to the Metaverse as that was the last place there were active users. It actually makes a lot of sense to him, that that’s where Akira grew up. He probably didn’t even blink at all the stuff happening here. He must have understood from the beginning exactly how dangerous the Metaverse can be. 

The second is not exactly the images themselves, but the repetition of them. It’s a flash of every time Akira has interacted with the police. Being arrested with Shido in the background, being arrested in Sae’s Palace, and being beaten and drugged in the interrogation room. The TVs first show this series of images one at a time, with a sort of rhythm to them. But then they start to flicker, flashing between them each, and just starting over and over and over until Goro’s seen them all over a dozen times each. 

Japan is a prison, for Akira. One he can’t seem to escape, no matter how many times he does it all over. Because he does it all over, he can’t escape. Japan is his prison. 

The third and final thing that stands out to Goro is himself. It doesn’t replay anything that he’s seen, but it does show him the briefest moment of the bulkhead door closing between him and Akira. 

That’s why he’s so confused when he sees himself show up again. He’s standing with Akira in Leblanc, wearing a winter coat and a scarf. He doesn’t know what they’re talking about, the only sound so far has been that crackling static. Whatever it is, they both look sad. 

Akira is crying. 

Then, for the first time, the static clears and voices sound through the room. 

“Can I ask something of you? I know you’ve done a lot for me already, but I’ve never pretended to be selfless,” Goro’s image says. 

“What is it?” 

“Don’t forget you love me. I–I don’t know if this is possible, I mean the Metaverse is strange and malleable with reality, but considering everything it’s also likely to collapse following this mission. But if there’s any way for you to…find me, could you? Save me, I suppose that’s what I mean. Alive or dead I’d really like somebody to, well, care. If that’s burying me, I ask that of you too. I know that’s an incredibly cruel request. And a burden. I hope you don’t mind me asking anyway." 

“I’ll find a way,” Akira’s image promises. 

Goro swallows around the lump in his throat as he watches himself sprout wings on screen and fly away. 

It isn’t freedom, he’s decided. It’s as much of a shackle as anything else. Akira may have thought he was freeing Goro, but that’s not true. This, who he is now, is the closest he’s ever been to being free. He’s sure of that.  

Goro lays awake that night. He thinks about the body of that girl, about Akira’s arrests, about the request. It was interesting to see into the future in such a way, the first future he believes. Based on their conversation, and how Akira has devoted himself to all this time nonsense, it must be. Akira took those words to heart, and now he won’t rest until he believes that he’s saved Goro, from everything. 

If Goro had known, he would never have asked such a thing of him. But that version of him was so different, maybe that him wouldn’t have cared. It’s hard to say. 

The other Thieves are confused, to say the least. Goro can’t blame them, they have little to no context for the vast majority of what they saw on those screens. Even Sumire couldn’t understand all of it. Hell, even Goro doesn’t understand everything. Just most. And the rest, he can at least guess at. He’s suddenly very grateful that Akira let him in so much, that he told him things he shouldn’t have. Otherwise, he’d be in a bad position now. One where he’d struggle to continue on in a meaningful way. Though maybe he wouldn’t have gotten this far in the first place. 

Akira, Trickster, they can’t just let these things go. There is no “letting” them steal the treasure, not with Goro on the line. Somehow, relating to Maruki and all that, there’s further danger in front of them that threatens Goro. Past the engine room, there’s more to come. And so Akira continues to bind himself to this place, to feast on the lingering distortions and build his power. 

As long as there’s something for Akira to fight, something to protect Goro from, they’ll never get through this Palace. 

So Goro just has to…figure out a way to release Akira from this obligation he feels. That part he hasn’t really figured out, but he believes that if he can just face the real Akira and talk to him, they can come to an understanding. 

That’s how it’s always worked. They struggle and fall short of each other, and then Akira reaches out with all the things he shouldn’t tell Goro and they resist being torn apart. This time, Goro needs to reach for Akira. 

It goes against everything he’s taught himself over the years. The things that have kept him safe throughout all this. Reaching out for people is exactly how you get hurt. But he can do it, he’s sure. When it comes to Akira, he’s always been able to do things he never thought possible. Akira makes the impossible possible, after all. 

And Akira would never, ever, hurt him. 

“I know. I understand where you’re all coming from,” Goro tries placating. 

“I don’t think you do! I think you’re being–being selfish! You aren’t considering our feelings about it!” Ann rants. 

“You can’t just expect us to, what, abandon Akira when he needs us? For real?” Ryuji shakes his head. “No fucking way!” 

“I have to agree. I’m sorry, Goro, I usually trust you. This just doesn’t make sense to me,” Haru says, with her arms wrapped around herself. 

“No, everyone, I…I understand. The chains only move out of the way for him, we’ve already slowed him down a few times. I believe he might be able to get to the heart of the Palace if he goes on his own,” Makoto points out.

Goro nods along. He also needs to talk to Akira about things he doesn’t want other people hearing, but that’s secondary to his main concern of simply being able to get to where he needs to go at all.  

“I’m sorry it isn’t ideal. But I need to at least try,” Goro insists. 

Between him and Makoto, they’re able to convince the others. He thanks her internally as he steps into the Palace by himself. Like he expected, the chains part for him. But it’s not just that, the Shadows don’t attack him, and the hallways don’t contort themselves when he tries to pass through them. It’s like it all bends to his will, to his insistence on moving forward.  

“We won’t leave without him. We will bring our Maid Marian home.” 

A little bit into his trek, his cognition shows up. The Prince lands beside him, those great wings folding against his back once his feet are on the ground. 

“Are you searching for the heart?” he asks, walking beside Goro. 

“Yes. Do you know where it is?” 

“I do. What’s your intention?” the Prince tilts his head, stepping suddenly in front of Goro so he has to stop. “If our goals align, I will tell you.” 

“I just need to talk to him. After that, I don’t know. It depends,” Goro admits. 

“Who? The Trickster or Akira?” 

“Both.” 

The Prince studies him, eyes searching all over. Then, like coming to a decision, he nods. Reaches out. Presses his hand to the wall. 

It falls away to a familiar staircase. 

“Go. Maybe you’ll have better luck than I have,” the Prince says. 

He spreads his wings and takes off. 

Goro turns and starts walking up the stairs of Leblanc. He takes them slowly, gathering his strength as he does. Whatever is up here to greet him, he isn’t leaving until he gets across what he needs to properly. Even if it takes hours, days, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is making sure Akira knows that Goro Akechi is in love with him. 

He doesn’t know how many of his previous selves expressed such things, but he does know that every single one of them felt it. He’s positive of that fact. 

When his foot hits the top step, he looks over automatically. 

The room is empty, almost. Akira is suspended on the far wall, chains wrapping around his whole body. They curl and move and constrict, like they’re drawing Akira further in. It’s almost like a cocoon. The only piece of him that’s exposed is his eyes. 

He hears his voice echoing around the room. Things he’s never said, but things he must have at some point. 

I hate you. 

I’ll fucking kill you! 

You won’t say no, will you? 

Let’s go back. 

To hell with that! 

It was always a lie. Obviously. 

Goro shakes his head, trying to dislodge the sound of his own voice as he approaches Akira. 

His eyes open slowly. 

“Did he let you in here?” 

Goro nods as Trickster places a hand on his back. He turns to face the other version of Akira. 

The sound of his own voice is cut off harshly. It stops playing. 

Trickster is also beginning to be overtaken by chains it seems. They cover almost all of him in a layer of metal. 

“He seemed to think I could do it,” he answers. 

“Then he has more faith than me. That’s rare,” Trickster hums. “He’s being optimistic for once. Very unlike him. I almost feel bad that he’s going to be wrong–” 

“I love you,” Goro tells him, reaching up to his face. 

The chains part for him immediately, allowing him to place an open palm on Trickster’s cheek. Trickster falls completely silent, staring at him with a mixture of surprise and fear. 

“Can I kiss you?” Goro whispers. 

Trickster opens his mouth, shuts it. He swallows, his jaw tightening and tensing under Goro’s hand. The chains rattle as they continue to fall away from Trickster’s body, away from Goro’s other hand as he raises it to rest on the other boy’s chest. 

He doesn’t repeat the question. He just tilts his head, ever so slightly. 

“I–um, you don’t have to ask me that,” Trickster tries to dismiss. 

“I want to. If I’m going to kiss you, I want to know that it’s exactly what you want to happen too,” Goro insists. “Can I? Kiss you? I’d really like to.” 

“Me? Not–not, Akira? He’s right there,” Trickster points out, turning his face towards the metal cocoon. 

“I asked you.” 

Trickster looks back at him. His eyes are bright. It’s him. It’s Goro’s North Star, in those eyes. This part of Akira is not the part that doesn’t trust him, or pulls away, or any of those things. There is no part of Akira like that. This is the part of Akira who does everything for love. The part walks the paths he does because of the people he cares about. Sometimes that leads him to try to push Goro away, to protect him. But this part is driven by love and courage at the end of the day. 

This is a part Goro loves very, very much. 

“Yes,” Trickster answers. 

Goro kisses him. 

“I love you,” he repeats. “This part of you, too. It’ll be okay. You already saved me, you know that?” 

Trickster steps away from him. Back and back until Goro isn’t touching him and he’s pressed up against a wall. There’s shock and something like fear in his eyes all over again. Goro is beginning to resent this expression. 

“No. I’m doing what I need to. You can’t tell me it’s wrong, I won’t hear it,” Trickster hisses. 

Goro walks over to Akira, reaching so that the chains retract. He wraps his arms around the boy, pulling him from the mass of writhing chains. He guides him to the floor, letting Akira’s head rest on his lap. 

He seems out of it, his eyes blinking slowly with this glassy quality to them. Goro runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I love you. You didn’t need to do this to save me,” he whispers to Akira too. 

“I did,” Akira murmurs. 

“We did. We turned back time to do this. For you! For what you entrusted to us! Lavenza hardly recognizes us anymore, but every time I ask, I find myself back on that train anyway. I’ll do it however many times I need to, I’m fine with that. I don’t care what happens to me or what I become, as long as I can finally save you! Now I don’t know, I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it. So I have to stay this way! Otherwise…” Trickster trails off. 

He begins to cry. The chains that surround him begin to whip around, like a warning to any who would try to come near. Goro reaches his hand out, cradling Akira’s head in his other. 

“You can tell me. It’s okay.” 

Trickster comes back towards him, and Goro takes his hand to pull him down to the floor. He stumbles a little on the way, surprise showing on his face when Goro places another kiss on his cheek. 

“Otherwise if something happens to you, I will lose you forever,” Trickster continues, “No more do-overs. I can’t take that. You don’t understand. I’ve spent so much time…I’m scared. I’m scared to give up this power. That it could be for nothing.” 

“It’ll be okay,” Goro insists. “You don’t always have to be the strong one.”

“I do! I have to save you, save everyone. I can’t lose anyone, not after everything.” Trickster shakes his head firmly. “I have to do this.” 

“You have always saved me. I don’t have all his memories, your Goro, right? All the Goros you’ve had and known and loved. But I have my memories, of him just this one time. And you saved me from the very beginning, from the moment you gave me that umbrella. It had nothing to do with this, with your power. It was just you, Akira, plain and simple. All of you. Look at me, look in my eyes. Your love is what changed me, what saved me. That’s the truth. That’s what matters to me.”

He makes sure that he looks Akira and Trickster directly in the eyes, paying each equal attention. It’s all of Akira. 

“But what if something goes wrong?” Trickster cries. 

“Then we’ll handle it. Together. I’m really grateful to you for helping me, for saving me. But that’s never what he was asking of you, to do all this just so I’m safe. What did you think he wanted from you?” Goro questions. 

It’s Akira who answers, mumbling against Goro’s stomach so much he can barely hear. But he’s listening too carefully to actually miss it. 

“To love him, to find him again, and to save him that time.”

“I don’t think that’s true. It was only ever one request. Do not forget you love him. He explained it, and talked longer than he had to, because that’s who we are. You know that. But all he ever meant was for you to keep loving him. And you did that part effortlessly,” Goro tells him. “You did that part always.” 

Akira surges up to throw his arms around Goro. After a moment, he feels a second pair of arms join the first. 

Goro puts one hand on the small of Akira’s back, the other he wraps around Trickster’s waist. He hugs them back with all his might. 

“You did exactly what all of us could ever want. You loved us. You did good, you did what you were supposed to, and you can rest now,” Goro comforts them. 

The Palace shudders exactly at the same time that Akira does, and as Goro feels Trickster disappear. He helps the boy up and drops a Goho-M at their feet. 

It’s the only thing he brought with him. 

Akira is unconscious when they appear back in reality. Thankfully, Goro entered from Leblanc. He thought it was worth trying based on the scope of the distortion, and it actually brought him nearly directly to the treasure. 

Goro starts staying full time at Leblanc. He does it so he can take care of Akira mostly, but also he just wants to be close. It seems to help Akira recover, Goro is able to keep him in bed and bring him what he needs. He isn’t really employed anymore, which he’ll have to figure out, but for now it’s nice to not have anything to do. He keeps up with his classes online, which he’s been doing practically the whole school year anyway. 

Akira doesn’t regain full consciousness until about a week later. He goes in and out of being awake, but definitely isn’t fully aware. He sleeps mostly. 

But then he opens his eyes one morning and Goro can tell he’s back. 

“Welcome home,” Goro greets him. 

He shuts the book he’s been reading today, keeping his voice down to prevent anyone from downstairs hearing. He knows everyone has been worried, but he’d rather give Akira a moment to get his bearings before he’s surrounded by people. 

“I—I’m sorry, I don’t. Um. When—What day is it?” Akira asks softly. 

“Monday, December the 19th,” Goro tells him. 

Akira struggles to sit up, but it’s clear he’s still feeling weak. Goro reaches out and helps him.

“Are you sure? You’re, um—“

“Alive, yes. I was wondering if you’d remember or not.” Goro tucks a piece of Akira’s unruly hair behind his ear. “You developed a Palace, though it’s gone now. And I’m safe. I didn’t die in the engine room. I didn’t even get hurt. I know, everything. Even the time travel part.”

“Is this a dream?” Akira whispers, wincing. 

“No. It’s real.”

“I still can’t feel my Personas,” Akira sniffs, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. “Only Arsene is still here. I don’t think…I have the power to reset anything anymore.”

“You don’t need it. We’ll be okay,” Goro assures him. 

“No you don’t understand, there’s more going on, Shido wasn’t our last—“

“I know,” Goro cuts in gently. “That’s what your Shadow said too. But whatever it is, we can figure it out together. Alright? I love you.” 

“You love me?” 

Goro wasn’t even thinking. At this point he’s said it multiple times to Akira, although he hadn’t really considered that every time so far has been when Akira wouldn’t be able to remember. This is the first time he’s said it to a conscious, aware Akira. 

“Yes, I do. I love you,” he repeats, more firm this time. 

“Okay. Yeah. You’re right. We can handle this together.”

Goro doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t think things he saw in Akira’s Palace should really count as him being told things. So he just pretends like he never saw any of those things. 

But he doesn’t have to ask. 

“What did you see in there?” Akira asks him the next day.

From what Goro understands, he’s already back to school and taking finals. Still, he seems entirely unbothered by that. Goro figures he’s probably taken the exams enough times to have the answers memorized. 

“Not all of it. Not even a lot of it. I did see…Inaba. Your original arrest. Some parts of our first timeline together. And something that didn’t make sense to me, me alive after the engine room,” Goro lists. “But I’m sure there was a lot more if I continued going through the Palace as I was. I think I sort of took a shortcut.”

“You didn’t see Maruki?” 

Goro shakes his head. 

Akira sighs. He wraps his arms around himself and leans back in bed. Goro settles back beside him, so their shoulders are brushing. 

“Maruki’s the school counselor that was assigned to Shujin after the Kamoshida incident. He was looking into cognition and the Metaverse, and the first time I unknowingly aided in his research. He, um, sort of changed reality? After–fuck, I have to tell you about Yaldaboath too. Basically though, there was a power vacuum that he took advantage of. He granted people’s wishes in order to create some sort of perfect reality. He brought you back to life,” Akira spits. “And used you as leverage to try to convince me to accept it. To let him take over the world. But we talked and, and it wasn’t what you wanted. So we rejected it.” 

The bitterness and anger in Akira’s voice is unlike anything Goro has ever heard from him. He reaches out and takes Akira’s hand in his. 

“Thank you,” he says. “Will he do the same this time?” 

“I don’t think so. I stopped talking to him once I told you about the future. I thought that if we just knew, we could stop it. And in that case, I had no reason to indulge Maruki,” Akira explains. 

“Why would you indulge him anyway?” Goro asks. 

He starts to add that Akira doesn’t have to answer that, but pauses when Akira sucks air in through his teeth. 

“Honestly? So I could see you again while I was waiting to turn back time. Because even in the timelines where you wanted nothing to do with me, you would always come help me. I’m sorry, it sounds selfish when I say it out loud,” Akira apologizes, laughing hollowly. 

“I wouldn’t say that. Not when I would do the same thing.” 

Goro prepares for the end of the world while Akira continues his exams. It feels kind of ridiculous. Goro isn’t too bothered by it all. According to Akira, they’ve always pulled through. Still, Goro goes out to get supplies and ask Sumire to join them and generally do whatever he can to ease Akira’s stress. 

He can say, it isn’t fun by any means. When the day comes, it’s a lot more intense than he thought it would be, and disappearing from reality upsets him very much despite Akira’s warning about it. When he steps out of that jail cell, finally understanding exactly where Akira’s distortion is centered around, he wraps his arms around Akira. He sees that he’s the first one Akira freed. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

But actually fighting the false god? Not so bad. He finds it’s easier than Akira’s Palace, and never for a moment does he think that they won’t win. Of course they’ll win. Goro and Akira are working together, and they make the impossible possible all the time. Yaldaboath doesn’t stand a chance. And like Akira said he shouldn’t, Maruki doesn’t act in the ensuing chaos. Goro doesn’t really have the memories to understand why, but he has his heart which he’s come to realize has never forgotten, and that tells him he hates the man. So he’s relieved. 

The thing Akira didn’t warn him about comes. Akira gets arrested on Christmas Eve and leaves Goro speechless. It happens so fast, and it takes him so off guard that he doesn’t end up saying or doing anything. He just lets it happen. How could he? After everything? A little surprise keeps him from saving Akira back. 

He cries for hours in Akira’s bed that night, holding Morgana tightly to his chest. 

Months go by. Goro starts working at the Jazz Jin as a waiter, and works with Sae and the others to build a case to get Akira out. It’s the least he can do, when Akira clearly took this fall so that Goro wouldn’t have to. 

Whenever Goro visits, Akira always assures him that it’ll work out. That it’s always worked out in the past, and now should be no different. After a month or so, Goro starts believing him. After two months, Akira is out. After three months, Goro finally fully forgives him. 

Akira is sitting up in bed. Goro picks his head up from the pillow, sluggishly rubbing at his eyes. 

“I fell asleep. Were you up that whole time?” he yawns. 

He’s only been to sleep a few hours he thinks, it’s still pitch black outside. 

“It’s March 20th,” Akira says.

He turns to look at Goro, and he has that look. The one Goro really doesn’t like seeing, the one where it seems like absolute madness could devour Akira at any moment. Although the Palace was taken care of, the treasure stolen, Akira never actually regained the ability to use all of his Personas. All the way to the end, Akira only had Arsene. Goro thinks there’s still some blockage there, and he knows it’ll be a long time before the effects of these loops even begin to fade. 

That’s alright. He’s happy to take care of Akira. 

“It is,” he confirms. 

“This is it. The last day. Tomorrow will be the first time it’s ever been tomorrow,” Akira admits. 

Akira looks away, down at his lap. He’s tapping his knee. He has a million more things he wants to say, but he’s just remaining silent. 

It’s an unremarkable day. Goro wonders why. Maybe that’ll prompt Akira to say more. 

“Is it special somehow? Why is this your turning point?” Goro asks curiously. 

“In all other timelines, I go home today. Back to Inaba,” Akira elaborates. “I just decided this time I wouldn’t. So I’m staying with Sojiro all the way through school. I’m going to visit my parents, but that won’t be for too long. This is home now.” 

“Does that make you sad?” Goro guesses. 

“A little? I guess that it’s still…despite all those bad memories, that was home. I guess you can’t help but miss the place you grew up. If not because it was home, but because it was me,” Akira sighs. 

Goro reaches over and tugs at Akira’s sleeve. 

“Let’s sleep. Tomorrow will come, and the day after, and the day after even if we stay awake through it. We can talk in the morning, but I want you to come back to bed now.” 

He does his best to hum what he remembers of the melody Akira typically sings, and it seems to relax Akira. He still doesn’t know where it came from, but some things he feels are better off if he doesn’t ask about them. He gets the sense this is one of them. 

So he doesn’t. He loves Akira far more than he needs to know. 

Goro stays up with Akira the next night until the clock turns and it’s March 21st. 

“Thank you,” Akira blurts. 

Goro clicks his phone off, the bright 00:00 still somewhat burned into his eyes for a second. Then he blinks, and Akira is smiling. He slides down under the covers, pressing his forehead against Goro’s. 

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you. For loving me, for finding me, for saving me,” Akira tells him. “Even though I didn’t ask you to. Even when you had forgotten. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He pulls away as Akira flips over in bed, snaking an arm around his waist and pressing his lips to the back of Akira’s neck. “Already, always.” 

They settle, and after a few moments, Goro hears Morgana begin to purr from the other side of the bed. 

“Besides. Thank you for caring,” he adds.

Goro always felt like this kind of care was something…well, impossible. At least for him. At least after losing his mother. That’s why he threw his entire life away chasing revenge, because he couldn’t see anything else left for him. 

But then Akira came along with his umbrella and his love. 

“It was easy,” Akira dismisses. “I love you.” 

Notes:

This fic took me so long to write and publish, I'll still probably go back through and do another edit sometime in the future but this thing is over a hundred pages long so I just had to bite the bullet and post it. If you made it all the way through, I hope you had fun and it was just as heartbreaking to read as it was to write

ALSO—I’ve started to write a companion piece to this in Akira’s POV so look out for that if you’re interested (I’ll also post a version with them side by side, it’s kinda hard to explain but you’ll see)