Chapter Text
Goro gently holds up his lip, staring into the mirror. His tongue pokes gently at the tooth, mouth convinced it’s a foreign object, despite the fact he was without it for merely a few days. It doesn’t move at the gentle touch, as promised, but he’s reluctant to try with his finger just in case.
He exits the small bathroom, walking slowly on his half-healed leg, Akira looking up as he enters the café. He’s immediately on his feet, but Goro waves him off.
“I can walk to the damn booth, stop fussing,” he says.
Akira sits and Ann laughs from the opposite side. “You’re doing great, how are you feeling?”
“Like I got dragged across a railway track,” he says, but offers her a smile as he does.
Akira makes room for him in the booth, allowing Goro the space to stretch out his leg, but still keeps close. As he does, Futaba skips over, leaning forward on the table.
“Come on, smile!” she says.
Goro grimaces and does so slowly, his lip stinging as he does, but quick enough for them to see the tooth back where it should be.
“Ah, I’m glad to see the milk worked,” Yusuke calls as he comes to sit by Ann.
“Yes, thank you,” Goro says, trying not to think about that conversation.
The bell chimes at that moment, and the others are distracted as Haru and Makoto arrive. Goro sits back a little, relieved to be out of their scrutiny. He feels as if that’s all that’s happened lately, various people staring and fussing over him.
“Hey, let me see?”
Goro turns at Akira’s quiet request. He leans in, inspecting Goro’s mouth carefully as Goro pushes up his lip again.
“That looks really painful,” Akira says softly.
Goro sighs. “Yes, it’s actually worse than the tooth,” he says.
He’d managed to catch the inside of his mouth in the injury, cutting it open, which has formed a painful ulcer. Combined with the split lip on the outside from the impact of falling, he looks as if he’s been punched in the face.
Akira’s hand comes to rest on the side of his face, cupping his cheek with four fingers; a light touch, but warming in its gentleness. Akira lets it stay for a moment, then lowers his hand, moving it to intertwine with Goro’s where it lays on the booth chair. He tries not to tense. This is all far too new and strange.
“Goro, so good to see you up and about!” Haru says, strolling over and wrapping an arm gently around his shoulders in a partial hug.
“Thank you,” he says, once again back in the spotlight.
They’ve brought food and Akira ends up getting up to make coffee for the rest of the group, meaning Goro shuffles to the corner of the booth, the rest all dragging chairs around in a large circle.
It’s nice if a lot after everything that’s happened. It’s been three days since the railway and the news of Shido’s death has been broadcast non-stop. No references to the Phantom Thieves, their leader still dead and Goro still missing. So here they are, chatting peacefully in the closed café, while the world continues to turn in the wake of their deeds. It’s bizarre to say the least.
“Can you eat okay? I brought a lot of meat, sorry,” Ryuji says.
Goro smiles. “I can eat fine, the dentist says my tooth is secure."
Akira arrives back with a tray, setting down their drinks, and handing over a box of painkillers and antibiotics, which he takes with a sigh. “Remind me again why I can’t have magical medicine?”
Makoto clears her throat. “Because you’ve had so much of it already,” she reminds him sternly.
Goro sends her a piercing look, but takes his normal medicine with a glass of water anyway. It’s true, with the injuries he sustained in both the city hall and the underground, the doctor commented he should barely be able to move. He’s had as much as his body can take, the rest he’ll have to heal on his own.
The coffee is a good relief after the bitterness of tablets, even if it takes him a few tries to sip comfortably around his swollen lip.
“I’m starving, can we please eat, why bring all this stuff just to stare at it?” Futaba whines, and Ann laughs before deciding to take the lead in sharing everything out.
Goro knows there must be a purpose to this meeting, but has been somewhat out of the loop on reality the past few days. He lets the quiet wash over, content to let their conversation lull him into calmness as he carefully eats and drinks with them.
The moment arrives as Futaba finishes her food and looks around. “So. We gonna talk about what we’ve found?”
Goro appreciates her cutting straight to the point, and it’s clear she’s eager to share.
“Alright, you can start then,” Akira says.
Goro turns to him, frowning. “Are you having a mission debrief?” he says.
Akira grins. “Yup. And I’m not getting up again, so you’re stuck here,” he says, arm moving slowly around Goro’s back, giving him a chance to resist if unwelcome.
It’s not though, and Goro just sighs, leaning into it, and Futaba pulls her computer from somewhere, almost knocking her plate over, Ann removing it quickly before something spills.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything about Akira,” Futaba says without looking up, although Goro knows it’s directed at him. “We couldn’t risk anyone knowing he was alive until Shido was found.”
She does raise her eyes then, Akira squeezing Goro tighter. The group looks on with clear guilt, but Goro understands. He would have done the same.
“It’s alright. I know how much of a risk all aspects of this plan were,” he says.
Futaba looks a little unconvinced, but lets it lie. Akira kisses his temple, the casual intimacy of it sending his thoughts off kilter, only returning once voices begin anew.
“The Council has finally started to work out how corrupt Shido was; as we’d all guessed he was using his magic to control powerful individuals, and from there, using legal means to turn over the system. A long game, but effective,” Futaba says.
Goro knew this to an extent, but it’s good to actually hear it said.
“There’s a bunch of stuff they’ll have to get through, and a lot of sentences and punishments to overturn, but I may have leaked some specific data to help speed up certain cases,” Futaba says, looking over her computer to meet eyes with Akira.
“Thanks, although I don’t mind that much, nothing really left in the city for me anymore,” he says, and Goro feels his face heat frustratingly as Akira’s head tips in his direction.
“Would be nice to get my drivers licence though. It’s weird how many things you can’t do with a banishment,” Akira says conversationally, and Goro’s hatred of a dead man surges momentarily.
“My sister said they retrieved what was left of Shido’s body, but are keeping it quiet on precisely what happened. Although I’m sure there will be some heavy investigations into what he may have been communing with," Makoto adds.
Goro frowns, looking between them all. As the quiet persists, Ryuji groans. “Come on, you gotta tell us what that was. Nothing we’ve faced has been like that,” he says.
Haru sighs. “It’s unclear precisely, and I’m sure whoever is looking into it will not be a public body,” she says. “But Shido fused himself with another being. Physically and magically. It may have even been something he did before this, which would explain why his power was so vast. No one person should have access to those gifts.”
“Fused? To what?” Goro asks, recalling the way Shido had seemed pieced together by something else, that voice speaking in multiple tones.
“A god? Demon? Some sort of super powered entity? Not sure really. None of us have ever seen anything like it,” Futaba says.
“You all seem unconcerned that the bastard managed to do that, and we all nearly died in the process,” Goro says.
Akira shifts next to him, moving closer. “I wouldn’t say that. But, as Haru says, whoever is looking into it isn’t a public body and we don’t want to end up on their radar. At least, not us as individuals.”
Yusuke turns to Makoto then. “Did your sister manage to cover our tracks?”
“Well, as far as she’s aware, yes. They’ve been interviewing her officers for days, and there’s no mention of the Phantom Thieves. I would assume by now, we’re safe.”
“But we’re keeping a low profile,” Akira adds sternly, and the others all nod.
Haru leans forward. “The magic of this city appears to be changing. It’s something I’d noticed before, but it seems that whatever Shido did actually influenced the power of people in his vicinity. Years and years of dedication to a god had shifted power to its advantage. We should see a change in many people soon.”
Goro thinks of the darkness hovering over people, the lies and deceit, Shido’s obsession with control and power. If they did break those chains, that would slowly have made a difference. Goro feels his lips pull up slightly; it feels good, the golden shine of the justice card in an otherwise dim world.
“How do you just...become a god? That thing was hideous,” Ann says with a shudder.
“There’s all sorts of rituals out there, promising more power and influence. Looks like he found one which did so, for a price. But Shido fully embraced it as a last resort. We’re lucky in a way, that he tried to activate Goro’s curse. He was half dead when he became that thing, making it easier for us to take down,” Makoto says.
“Would have rather he not decided to do that,” Akira says, and tips his head slightly against Goro’s.
We really need to talk about this, Goro thinks, and therefore bucks Akira off, who gives him a sad face which absolutely doesn’t work. He can’t say he’s looking forward to whatever needs airing between them, but this in-between stage is far worse than any discussion on feelings will be. Plus he’s tired and still in muted pain, there’s only so much hesitancy he can take.
“Me too. But hey, today is meant to be a celebration!” Ann announces, immediately changing the tone, everyone reeling themselves back from that day in the tunnels.
“Hell yeah! Although we should go out for a real one. When we’re not laying low,” Ryuji says, having caught Akira’s eye.
“I agree. It would be good to eat at the hotel we visited for Futaba’s birthday,” Yusuke says.
“Dude, you just want an all you can eat buffet,” Ryuji says with a sigh.
“Are you saying you don’t? Their strawberry cake is so good, Goro you need to try the desserts,” Ann says, immediately regaling him with tales of cakes so fantastically explained they both decide it’s time to break out the cake Haru baked.
Goro is yawning soon after that, and even Akira’s coffee can’t keep him from almost dozing into his hand, which may have something to do with the swift exit of the group. He can’t say he’s paying much attention, waving goodbyes before the world suddenly shrinks to just him and Akira.
“You should go lie down,” Akira says.
Goro shakes his head. “You can’t possibly clear this on your own,” he says.
“Can and will. Please, you’ll crack your tooth again if you fall while sweeping."
Goro tries to protest, but yawns once more, which does nothing for his argument, so while grumbling under his breath, he makes his way slowly up the stairs. He’s utterly fed up with being so weak; at least now he can walk unaided, even if he can feel Akira watching him, just in case he topples back down.
By the time he’s ready for bed, he’s barely able to stay awake. He collapses into Akira’s sheets, immediately shooing away the treacherous voice that’s upset the bedding no longer smells of him. Goro was too hurt to protest when he’d first stayed in Akira’s bed, the other taking a spare futon, and now Akira is too stubborn to switch.
Goro turns out the light, glad at least today he’s managed to make it to the evening rather than falling asleep when it’s still light outside, his exhaustion just being kept at bay by the thoughts circling through his mind.
At some point, he’ll need to ask questions and make decisions. Is anyone looking for him, since he’s still listed as missing? His apartment in this town is probably being watched, so where is he going to live, and what does he want to do?
Why is Akira alive?
The second question has floated through his mind since the hazy, half conscious state in the tunnel. He passed out somewhere on the drive, and woke up in Akira’s apartment, the doctor on standby to tell him he needs to take it easy, and which medication he was allowed. He’d mostly spent the next couple of days sleeping until he went to the dentist today, finally able to stand long enough to get his tooth fixed.
There hadn’t been much time in there for him to be conscious enough to ask questions, but Akira’s been a constant, close presence at his side. It’s been strange if nice, in a dim way that Goro’s been able to process, but the shock of going from shooting him to seeing him while hurt beyond belief has meant everything feels constantly in motion. Goro’s not sure what will occur the next time he wakes up, part of him waiting for the next disaster.
But he’s barely recovered from the curse backfire, and his energy has to focus on one thing at a time. So he rolls over, facing the window, a small amount of twilight leaking through the curtains, letting his body give in to sleep.
It only lasts a while though. It’s an odd sensation, knowing you’re asleep, but still being trapped in a place of warped visions. Nothing truly has form in this nightmare; bright reds swirling, feather-like objects swarming in a dark background until it becomes too much to breathe. A sense of loss, a sense of falling, a sense of being trapped, throwing himself against the wall of a cage while a multitude of voices laugh and laugh-
He startles awake, inhaling as he does, immediately registering that his throat is clogged, a tickling sensation sending it into convulsions. Goro surges up, doubling over and coughing, as a series of feathers fly out of his throat, scattering on the sheets before him.
He’s so busy removing the sticky remnants from his throat it takes him a few moments to realise there’s a hand on his back, soothing but firm in its touch, grounding back in the real world. He coughs until he’s both sure his throat is clear, and he finds in him the strength to face Akira.
Akira must have turned on a lamp at some point, as there’s a glow to the room, the light enabling him to see the atrocious mess of Akira’s hair, utterly wild and unkept. Combined with the still half-asleep look in his eyes, blinking even as he appraises Goro, it’s utterly disarming and adorable at the same moment.
“Fuck, sorry about your sheets,” he says, the first thing he can think of now they’re stained with wet feathers.
Akira just gives him a kind smile. “They wash. Let me get you some water,” he says.
He gets up slowly, possibly unsure if Goro’s finished coughing, but swiftly heads down the stairs as Goro starts collecting all the disgusting feathers together. He grimaces, wondering if he’s stuck like this forever. It makes no sense, but then again, none of this magic really has. Feathers cannot work against a heart, after all.
Akira comes back all too soon, Goro’s thoughts still tumbling, but he takes the water gratefully, and Akira hands him a box of tissues to dispose of the feathers. He sits on the edge of the bed.
“It was just a nightmare, I don’t need you pitying me,” he says with a huff.
Akira frowns. “I’m not. You’ve been through something terrible, it’s natural you’d have them. Making sure you’re okay isn’t pity.”
Goro can’t look at him, isn’t sure how to take care without being a burden. He doesn't come up with an answer and eventually Akira sighs.
“Do you think you can sleep?” he says.
Goro nods; the nightmare wasn’t that bad, he’s more concerned by the feathers, but he doesn’t feel like voicing either. “I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep,” he says.
“Not a problem, I tend to wake up in the night away,” Akira says, waving the concern away.
“Can’t help being on that shitty futon, we should swap seeing as I woke you,” Goro says.
“My futon is not shitty thank you, and you’re still injured. I’m fine where I am,” Akira says.
Goro glances towards the futon, looking at the lumpy thread bare sight, before catching Akira’s mussed and tired look again.
“We can share, but if you snore I am kicking you out of bed, Akira,” he says, feeling his cheeks heat, but unable to relegate Akira to the floor again, especially after waking him up.
Akira’s face blooms into a smile. “I promise I don’t.”
Goro shuffles over; the bed is a double, perfectly equipped to handle two people and yet he suddenly feels as if it’s shrunk; Akira’s presence so vast it takes up every inch of his senses. He swallows hard, mouth dry even after all the water, as Akira breathes out, clearly relaxing.
“Sleep well, Goro,” he says, voice already tinged with slumber.
Something about the tone clearly sets Goro off, as he yawns and turns over slowly, not able to sleep on his back but finding it harder than usual to get comfortable with his injuries. It works though, as he must fall back to sleep, as when he next opens his eyes, the change in light declares it’s morning.
He’s reluctant to get up, having no real reason to. Plus he’s so comfortable, warm and drifting, dozing on and off as his body repairs the lingering damage. But eventually, the hum of voices causes him to open his eyes fully, and he realises he’s alone in the room. His stomach dips, and he groans, annoyed he’s missing Akira sleeping next to him despite being anxious about it the night before.
Love is perplexing but mostly just incredibly annoying.
He stares at the ceiling for a moment, the hum of voices washing over, the smell of coffee starting to drift. He hasn’t really thought of that particular realisation since Akira miraculously appeared, stealing the show once more. It doesn’t rock him, not in the way it used to, but it does squirm under his skin in newness and confusion.
Goro sits up slowly, the action easier than previous days. He needs to talk to Akira, they can’t go on like this.
So he gets up, changes and slowly makes his way down the stairs. He can tell his leg is getting better, but he still has to take everything slowly, his weight not evenly distributed. The café appears to have no customers yet despite it being mid morning, but that seems to be a pattern.
He can’t see Akira as he makes it down the last step, assuming him to be in the small kitchen, but he does see another older man behind the counter, causing Goro to freeze and the man to chuckle.
“Ah, so there you are,” he says, and Goro stays fixed by the stairs, unsure what’s happening until Akira appears.
“Oh you’re awake, come sit down, Goro,” he says.
Goro’s eyes flicker to the man, and Akira looks over, then laughs softly, tugging at his hair. “Sorry, this is Sojiro, he owns the cafe.”
“Sit down, you shouldn’t be standing for long periods,” Sojiro says, pointing to the middle booth.
Goro would normally argue that, despite Tae telling him the same, he should probably get used to walking, but something about Sojiro’s demeanour makes him reluctant to argue. He shuffles over and sits, only for Akira to come over with a cup of coffee.
“I’m making curry,” he says, then rushes back off, presumably to attend to it, leaving Goro’s senses to wake up.
A familiar bottle of antibiotics is placed in front of him, and he looks up to see Sojiro, who also hands him a glass of water.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Kid’s trying to do three things at once in there,” he says with fond exasperation that makes Goro’s heart twinge.
He takes his tablets in silence, and Sojiro nods. “Futaba told me about your injuries, but looks like you’re already doing well.”
“Futaba?” he says, confused.
“I’m her guardian, not that she needs one now. Technically was his too. Old habits die hard," Sojiro replies.
Goro will have to take his word on that. “I see. For some reason I assumed Akira owned the café.”
That gains him a laugh. “Akira runs it nowadays, mostly. I’m too old for all that.”
Goro begs to differ, but doesn’t think it’s his place. Akira, though, walks out carrying two plates, pushing one across to Goro.
“Are you sure you don’t want one, boss?” he asks.
Sojiro shakes his head. “No, have your breakfast. I need to collect the beans order so I’ll be back this afternoon.”
Akira hums in acknowledgment, and the two start talking about coffee as Sojiro pulls on his coat and hat, Goro watching the steam rise from the food, until the door closes with a ring of the bell.
“Sorry, you could have started! Go ahead,” Akira says, rushing back over, and gesturing Goro towards his food.
Goro smiles, and does so. He doesn’t really have an appetite, but knows the food is doing him good, and as usual Akira’s creations are delicious. He makes it halfway through before he needs to slow down, but is determined to actually finish a meal now his tooth will let him.
“So that’s your guardian?” he says.
Akira blinks, then laughs. “Yes, although primarily Futaba’s. You remember the deck I showed you? It used to be his, but Sojiro stopped divining years ago.”
“To own a coffee shop?” Goro says.
Akira shrugs. “I can see the appeal.”
Goro finishes his food slowly, mind spinning back to yesterday’s thoughts of the future. He places down his spoon once done, staring at Akira for a moment before beginning. “Why didn’t I kill you?”
Akira slowly pushes his plate away, as if having to give himself some space. “Well, you did. In a way.”
Goro’s stomach rebels against his meal instantly, his mind of course conjuring Akira’s body in perfect detail, the gun still in his hand. Goro swallows, focuses on the room, and looks to the clearly alive and breathing Akira, currently nervously avoiding eye contact as his hand rests in the back of his hair.
After a moment he looks at Goro. “Remember when you came here and I was...a bit worse for wear?”
“Covered in cuts and bruises after going out on your own like an idiot?” Goro says, smiling brightly as he does.
“Yeah, that,” Akira says, grinning back. His smile dims though, and he leans forward. “I’d been practising something. I didn’t want to get anyone else involved in my power experiments, so I used to do them on my own. Can only get better with training,” he says, shrugging.
He holds Goro’s gaze. “I can make doubles of myself. Well, one convincing one, another that barely moves, and none of them can talk. That’s what you killed. I was on the roof, seeing through its eyes, guiding it. I got a hell of a headache when you shot it, but that’s all. So you did kill me. But you also didn’t.”
Goro blinks. Opens his mouth, shuts it again, his mind utterly blank. He’s not sure what he’s going to do; yell, cry, or curse at Akira even if it’s not really his fault, but what he doesn’t expect is for the laugh to escape. He claps a hand over his mouth, but now he’s started, he can’t stop. Akira looks stunned as his hand muffles his laughter, until Goro decides it’s pointless and just lets it fly, having to bend double, staring at the table as his stomach aches from laughing so hard.
Akira looks concerned as he tries to gulp in air, hiccupping a few times. Eventually he shakes his head, sitting back on the booth, letting his head lull back.
“Of course you’d manage to cheat death and fate in the same moment. Of course you would,” he says, not without a hint of anger.
Akira tenses a little, but says nothing for now, and Goro lets the silence calm him, mellow him out. He can’t exactly work out what he’s angry at; not Akira, that he’s sure of, just...everything that led him to this point; tired, hurt and so fed up of all the twists and turns.
But, Akira is alive, despite it all. That doesn’t make everything okay, not by a longshot. Yet it is a beacon of something akin to hope, allaying the pain which has circled, both muted and harsh, around Goro’s heart for the past few days. It gives him a lifeline, a way out. As more than anything, Goro is tired of this constant burden of past hurts, raw wounds reopening with the slightest movement.
“What do you mean by cheating fate?” Akira asks, Goro realising he’s been sitting in silence for some time.
He stands slowly, deciding that just sitting and talking is leading to too much emotional disturbances, it’s better to show him. Akira frowns as Goro moves slowly around the table.
“I need my wallet,” he says, and then turns towards the stairs.
He feels Akira get up and follow, once again gritting his teeth in the frustration it takes him far longer to get up the stairs than he’d like. He’s secretly glad Akira is following rather than waiting for him to come down, it’s faster this way.
Goro walks over to his bag, digs out the wallet and flips it open. Akira hovers, then sits on the couch, looking at him in a confused yet patient way that Goro’s starting to think of as sweet. He tries not to.
The paper is still folded, giving no hint to its content as the red text is unable to bleed through like normal ink, so he quickly swipes it, and holds it out to Akira.
“That’s...your prophecy,” he says slowly.
“Yes. Read it,” Goro says, lifting his hand a little for emphasis.
Akira is still looking cautious. “Are you...sure?”
Goro scoffs. “I thought you didn’t believe in fate?”
Akira rolls his eyes. “Fine, if you’re sure.”
He takes the paper. Goro tenses, heart thudding so loud it must be audible three houses away, it’s so consuming. But this is easier, so much easier than actually saying the words aloud, confession or declaring, whatever sickening sentiment needs to be expelled in these situations. His palms are clammy, he wants to sit down, and Akira’s still staring at the paper as if it’s an essay and not one line of text.
Slowly, he looks up. “I don’t understand.”
“What?” Goro says, impressed his voice stays level and he doesn’t throttle Akira for making this harder.
Akira looks between the prophecy and Goro, not meeting his eyes. “Um, I just...I think I need clarification on what you-”
Goro is going to scream, so instead just snatches the paper back, red in the face and so done with this idiot who has lost the ability to read words overnight, and flicks the paper upwards, realising he’s going to have to read it for him. Which is better he thinks, than making up some grand gesture but still not ideal.
Except, the words are not what he expects. Goro stills, staring at the same red text in the same flowing script on the same piece of card. However, now it reads:
A heart cannot be stolen if it is freely given.
“What the hell?” he says at the paper.
He drops it, letting it flutter to the ground and picks up his wallet once more. He starts searching through; he must have misplaced his actual prophecy, these things don’t just change.
“Uh, Goro, what’s going on?” Akira asks, as Goro starts throwing receipts on the floor.
“I must have the wrong thing,” he mutters, distracted, only to find an old set of directions he’d written on a scrap of card remarkably like his prophecy.
“You had the wrong prophecy?” Akira asks. Goro understands the question but is getting far too annoyed seeing as there’s no sign of it amongst his credit cards.
“Yes, seeing as mine said I’d kill my first love, this isn’t actually my prophecy,” he spits, and throws his licence on the floor for good measure.
Goro’s too distracted in trying to see if his wallet possibly has a hole in it; considering all the moving around he may need to check his bag, that he’s surprised when Akira’s hands suddenly close over his.
He looks up sharply to meet grey-silver eyes, spark and wildness, a thrill going through him in the same way it did in that alleyway with Joker so long ago. Akira is once again so close to him that Goro can see every inch of his smile as it blooms, attention on finding the card lost.
“Did you just say you love me?” he says.
Fuck, is Goro’s actual response to that, but he doesn’t say it, instead swallows before clearing his throat.
“I simply read my prophecy,” he says.
Akira leans closer. “Your old prophecy, you have a new one, Goro. You changed your fate, I told you it was possible,” he says, laughing almost delightedly.
Love is being alive, Goro has realised and the sound of such joy is enough to remind him that he has, in fact, kissed this man before and it seems ridiculous to waste another second not doing so.
“We did,” he says, and then leans forward, Akira meeting him as he does.
It’s less fire than the first kiss, but no less deep, more so if possible. Goro is torn between wanting to back Akira up against a wall again, consume him whole and feel that way he leans in to each touch, and to simply exist in the softness of this second kiss. He drops his wallet in favour of keeping his hands on Akira’s back, pulling him closer and leading their kiss as Akira sighs and clings to his shoulders as if even with such sweet touches he feels he’ll drift away.
Goro really doesn’t have the coordination or energy to lean into heavier needs, so the kiss breaks before too long, and Akira leans back, hands around Goro’s neck, so bright with kiss-red lips and flushed cheeks. Akira leans in, forehead touching Goro’s, causing his eyes to flutter shut.
“I love you,” he says, almost breathes into the small space between them. Goro’s chest expands then contracts, but Akira thankfully doesn’t wait for a reply. “I wish you’d said something sooner,” he says.
Goro pulls away, and shakes his head. “Despite your insistence that you can change fate, I didn’t want to run the risk of killing you. Even if apparently I was too far gone,” he says bitterly.
“That’s why you left last time,” Akira confirms.
Goro squeezes his waist, suddenly feeling tired. “I thought it was too early, that I could prevent it. Turns out it was too late.”
“I’m just so irresistible,” Akira says solemnly, and Goro pokes him in the ribs, making him shriek and duck away. Ticklish, good to know.
Akira’s expression changes suddenly. “Let me check something,” he says, and walks over to one of the drawers, rooting around while Goro watches, fingers twitching to hold now he has a taste for it.
Akira turns, holding up a small card, then brings it down to his eyeline. He blinks, then chuckles, shaking his head. Goro frowns, as he walks back and hands it over.
“Here. I can’t remember what mine used to say, but I’m sure it’s not this.”
Goro takes it, glancing once at Akira before looking back at the card. Like Goro’s it’s in red, but the writing is different, smaller and with less loops, stark against the gleaming card.
Your mask is the price for a treasure you cannot steal.
“Joker is dead. But I’m not, and neither are you. Seems like a fair trade,” he says.
“You are insufferable,” Goro says, and Akira grins.
“But you love me,” he says.
Goro chokes on air, and Akira laughs, taking his hand gently, and walking backwards. “Come on, let’s lie down,” he says.
“I just got up,” Goro says, annoyed at the coddling.
“Well I’ve been up for hours so I need a nap, and I want a cuddle,” Akira says as if this is a perfectly reasonable thing to voice.
Turns out wanting a cuddle involves Goro laying on his back while Akira snuggles in, content against his chest. It takes Goro a long few minutes to remember how to breathe normally again, the closeness so odd even as his senses sigh in relief at touch.
“What made you check yours?” Goro asks.
Akira hums into his chest, before looking upward. Goro glances down and he smiles. “Something Haru said this morning. Ever since I was banished, I’ve been...outside of fate, I think. As if Shido knocked it off course by banishing me. We reset that, so it looks like I have a new fate. Not that I’m going to get a reading. I prefer not knowing,” he says.
Distractedly, Goro’s hand runs through Akira’s hair, who signs and cuddles in further. “Makes no sense that mine changed too, if you can’t remember your original reading.”
“It was tied to Shido, or that god. We killed both, so we get a different fate. Maybe, this stuff is always up to interpretation,” Akira says, yawning.
“Are you always this tired?” he says.
Akira yawns again. “Yeah. You’re not the only one who has trouble sleeping,” he says, voice soft.
Goro’s hand stills in his hair, and Akira quickly rises up, looking concerned. “Sorry, I didn’t-”
“It’s fine. I’d prefer to know...things that upset you,” he says stiffly.
Akira’s small smile is as stunning as his full blown grin, and he leans in to kiss the corner of Goro’s mouth.
“You can learn whatever you want. The Phantom Thieves seem to have run their course, I’m dead, and you’re still missing. We can do whatever we like. Start again, a new fate, if you like,” he says, sounding hopeful, excited even.
Goro smiles, reaching up to push his hair back, it falling at ridiculous angles, obscuring those eyes he likes so much. It occurs to him that Akira’s been running on fumes himself, fighting to free the world and himself. If anyone deserves time to do what they want, at the pace they want, it’s him.
“Well, there are a few things from my old fate I liked,” Goro says. It’s a calculated risk, but he thinks it should pan out.
Akira’s eyebrows rise. “I hope it’s not the killing me part.”
“No, but meeting my two of cups wasn’t terrible,” he says, smirking for effect.
Akira stutters, turns a blinding shade of red so quickly that Goro laughs and pulls him close, kissing him before his mind can catch up. Unfortunately Akira ends up pushing too hard on his chest, and he hisses, Akira breaking away worriedly.
“I’m fine, stop panicking. Stupid fucking curse,” he says.
Akira kisses his cheek, then goes back to his original position, ear against his chest.
“You know, the feathers might be permanent. Curses tend to leave a mark, no matter what,” Akira says.
Goro grimaces. “A heart full of feathers. I hope you're happy with your prize,” he says.
He feels Akira smile against him. “My greatest treasure,” he says, curling a hand in Goro’s shirt.
“Shut up and go to sleep,” Goro replies, and Akira makes a soft noise in reply.
He waits a beat, then wets his lips. “I love you,” he says, quiet and rough.
Akira curls further in, catlike and ever so warm. “Love you too, Goro,” he slurs, falling almost instantly to sleep.
Goro smiles at the ceiling, hand curling into Akira’s hair protectively. A new town, a new fate, a new future. Outside of the constraints he’s had over him his whole life, free to be who he wants.
A future for both him and Akira, where they get to live. And that is worth more than any tarot card could promise him.