Chapter Text
On the morning of January 8th, Akira wakes up once more to a perfect reality. Once more, he resolves to break it.
Downstairs, Morgana avoids his eyes from one of the counter seats, and Futaba shrinks further into her booth. He keeps his eyes straight ahead as he leaves Leblanc, waving off Sojiro’s calls not to cause any trouble.
He’s already talked to all of his friends in an attempt to break them out of their false realities. If none of them break out of it by tomorrow, he will have to face Maruki’s palace and save Sumire alone.
If he had the option, he would have already called someone else. The only person who can match his abilities, who can predict his next move before he can think of it himself. If he closes his eyes he can envision the two of them tearing that palace apart and righting this upended world.
But that’s out of the question, isn’t it? Akechi’s in jail, had put himself there for Akira’s sake, and all Akira wants to do is to break in there and perform one more heist.
Instead, he takes a train to Kichijoji.
He settles at a familiar spot right outside Penguin Sniper’s entrance to people watch. There used to be so much he could pick up from being an observer; arguing couples, salarymen that rushed through the crowd, painfully awkward families. Now, he’s met with the same expression on every person’s face; wide and unmoving smiles, the laughter lines missing from around their eyes. Looking at anyone for too long feels like something is crawling under his skin. Still, he scans the streets, desperately hoping for a crack in the facade.
Instead, he hears his name being called. “Akira, over here!”
And… that can’t be.
But he whips his head towards the voice’s direction, and there he is. Goro Akechi in the flesh, bundled up in a trench coat and a red scarf, an unfamiliar woman’s arm looped around his own. He’s waving his free hand at Akira, a carefree smile on his face.
His first thought is, this is a trap. This is some kind of illusion from Maruki’s reality to get my guard down, but I know better. I can’t fall for it.
His second thought is, god, I’ve missed him so much. I have to go to him. I have to touch him and make sure he’s real.
So he goes over and envelops Akechi in his arms.
He doesn’t know what to expect. For him to be pushed away, maybe. But instead Akechi laughs, bright and lovely, and hugs him back one-handed. Beside him, the woman giggles, though her hand remains tucked into the crook of Akechi’s other elbow.
“You–” Akira begins, chokes on the word, tries again, “you’re here again. How are you here?”
“Hm?” At this, Akechi gently pulls him away, eyebrows knitted in concern as his hand moves to Akira’s cheek. “What do you mean? I told you yesterday that I had plans to go shopping with Mother here, didn’t I?”
Akira’s blood runs cold in his veins.
“R-Right,” he says with a nervous laugh, taking Akechi’s hand and pulling it away from his cheek. “Sorry, I guess I forgot. It’s been a tiring morning. I haven’t been in my right mind today.”
“You do look a bit unwell, Akira,” the woman pipes up - Akechi’s mother, he realizes. Now that he’s looking at her, he can see the resemblance. Lovely honey brown hair that tumbles past her shoulders, maroon eyes, lithe frame. She’s quite short, though. “Sojiro isn’t overworking you, is he? I’d have to talk to him otherwise.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, um, Akechi-san,” he says, stumbling at her name. “It’s not Sojiro’s fault, promise. I’m just groggy, I think? I didn’t have my morning coffee.”
Akechi hasn’t let go of his hand. Instead he smiles and laces their fingers together. Akira reminds himself to breathe. “Maybe it’s a sign for you to join us?” he asks, voice playful. “We were just thinking of getting breakfast at Miel et Crepes. If you could stomach the inferior coffee, of course.”
He shouldn’t say yes. What he should do is let go of Akechi’s hand and force him out of his false reality, just like he had to all of the other Thieves, and pray that he finds him in Odaiba tomorrow.
He tightens his grip on Akechi’s hand. “If you miss me that much, I suppose,” he says.
Akechi laughs again. “Fool,” he says, fondness seeping into his tone. Akira’s never heard anything like it. “I’d always look for your company.”
They end up at Miel et Crepes, as promised.
Akira can’t figure out how to act as they all sit down, watching quietly as Akechi and his mother check out the menus. He doesn’t want to stray too far from how Akechi remembers him in this reality - but that’s difficult to manage when he has no idea what that may be.
Thankfully, Akechi doesn’t seem to have caught on. He meets Akira’s gaze when he lifts his head up from the menu and, miraculously, blushes when he realizes Akira’s been looking at him.
“Sorry,” Akira says. His cheeks are warming, too.
“It’s alright.” Akechi reaches out to cover Akira’s hand with his own; Akira stares at it, dumbfounded. “Though I suppose the sooner we get some coffee for you, the better. I will say, it’s rather unlike you not to pester Sakura-san into making you a cup.”
“Ah–” The truth is he can’t stomach being around a human Morgana for too long, but he can’t exactly say that. He swerves the other direction. “Well, you did tell me you’d be here, right? Maybe bumping into you was my plan all along.”
“Oh, Akira, you don’t have to go through all of that,” Akechi’s mother pipes up. He wishes he could ask for her name. “Goro’s missed you, you know. Especially the past few weeks, with the holidays and everything. If you told him you wanted to come, he would have said yes.”
“Mother.” Akechi nudges her with his elbow, face cherry red.
“Oh, come now.” She waves him away with a laugh. “It’s nothing Akira hasn’t heard before.”
This is, in fact, something he’s never heard before. And fuck it, he’s already playing along. So he leans in closer, resting his chin on the palm of his free hand and ignoring Akechi’s glare. “I’m listening.”
Akechi’s mother brightens, and she leans in too, as if she’s about to share a secret. “You should have seen him on Christmas Eve. He’s a sweet boy, of course, couldn’t leave his mother alone on such a special night. But he did keep glancing at his phone… almost as if he was waiting for someone to message him.”
All at once, he feels as if he was plunged into cold water.
If they get their hands on the perpetrator, there’ll be no need for him to turn himself in, no?
“Maybe I should have,” he says quietly, flicking his gaze over to Akechi, whose glare softens as their eyes meet. “Don’t know why I didn’t.”
“You didn’t have to, really,” Akechi reassures him. “I’m sure Sakura-san appreciated the company.”
“And you were with us last Christmas Eve, so we figured we shouldn’t keep hogging you every year.” Akechi’s mother giggles.
And - that makes no sense. “Last year?”
“Mhm. Goro and I couldn’t go back home for the holidays so you decided to come to us. You don’t remember?”
“I - no, of course I remember.” Akira shakes off the vertigo and gives Akechi’s mother a smile. “I had a lot of fun. It was worth the trip.”
Akechi’s mother smiles, leaning back against her seat. “And now here you are. I could barely pry you two apart when you were younger, and you’re still so attached at the hip now. The years will continue to come and go, but I suppose not everything has to change, hm?”
He doesn’t know what to say, so he looks at Akechi. Akechi, looking more relaxed than he’s ever seen, whose smiles come so naturally in this fake world when he used to struggle, whose fingers are intertwining with his on the table like nothing can pull them apart.
He remembers hushed confessions in the bathhouse, a longing wish in the engine room before everything went to hell.
He understands everything, all of a sudden.
“No,” he finally says. “I suppose not.”
He picks up the menu with one hand. Akechi leans into his space to read with him.
After breakfast, they end up in the streets of Kichijoji again, going from shop to shop as Akechi and his mother check off items on their shopping list.
It’s… nice. Akira stays quiet for the most part, listening to the pair as they playfully argue about which shirt to buy or what flavor of bread bun to get. More often than not, Akechi turns to Akira during these arguments, expecting him to take his side without question. Akira does, because Akechi always lights the room up with his smile after.
Morning bleeds into the afternoon, and he knows that his time to snap Akechi back to reality is running out. He keeps walking.
“Oh, hold on a moment,” Akechi says, stopping in front of the stationery store. It’s strangely packed with people, for some reason - Akira wouldn’t be surprised if it was a result of another wish. “Do you mind if we take a detour? I’m out of ink.”
“It’s pretty crowded in there, isn’t it?” his mother asks. “Maybe we can come back another time?”
“The line isn’t that long. And I miss using my fountain pen.” Akechi sends Akira another one of his smiles, the one that makes Akira agree to anything he says. “You two can just stay here if you don’t want to deal with the crowd. I’ll be quick, I promise.”
Leaving no room for argument, Akechi heads into the store, and Akira loses sight of him in the crowd.
Akechi’s mother shakes her head. “How I raised the most stubborn boy in the world, I’ll never know.”
Akira laughs. “You think he got it from you, Akechi-san?”
“Impossible. I have the patience of a saint to deal with him all his life.” Akechi’s mother flickers her gaze at him. “And why the formality? I’ve known you for years by now, Akira. You know you can just call me Miho.”
He grins. “Sorry, Miho-san. It won’t happen again.”
“That’s better.” Miho leans against the store window, eyes kind as she looks him over. “Well, I suppose the timing is as good as any. I wanted to talk to you anyways.”
“Uh oh. Am I in trouble?”
“No, not at all. The opposite, really. I just wanted to thank you for staying with Goro all these years.”
He gulps. Not for the first time, he wishes he had all of the memories that she and Akechi have. “I - of course. Yeah, no problem.”
“He adores you, I’m sure you know,” Miho continues. “And to know that you’ve been there through so much of his life, through thick and thin… it means a lot to him, and to me.”
“That makes me really happy. Ake - Goro, he… he means the world to me.” He thinks of Goro again, the real one, calculating eyes and fake smiles and a cold voice that can turn raspy and mournful. “I’m glad I can make him happy. I always want him to be happy.”
Miho looks at him, fondness written all over her face. “If that’s what you want, then trust me. You do more than enough.”
Akira’s breath shakes on the exhale. Goro finally stumbles out of the store, two small shopping bags in hand.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Then he tosses one of the bags right towards Akira, who stumbles to catch it.
“Uh, are you giving me pen ink?”
Goro rolls his eyes. “Just open it.”
He does. Inside is a familiar looking fountain pen, its body a brilliant shade of red. He takes it out of the bag just to feel the weight of it.
“Now you can write in your diary with something that isn’t from the 100-yen shop.” Goro blushes again. “And it matches the pen you gave me.”
Warmth bursts in Akira’s chest. “I love it. Thank you.”
Goro lights up again, and Akira basks in it. “You’re welcome.”
He can’t bring himself to say goodbye.
But the sun is setting, and with it, Maruki’s deadline looms even closer. Even if none of the other Phantom Thieves show up tomorrow, he at least wants Goro by his side.
But if he wants that, Akira first has to break his heart.
“Akira, are you alright?” Miho asks gently, stopping in front of him. She reaches up to brush his bangs away and places the back of her hand against his forehead. “You’ve been out of sorts all day. I’m worried about you.”
You’re not real. You’re not alive. If everything goes right, then today will be the last day Goro will ever see you again.
Before he can say anything, Goro jumps in to rescue him. “He does feel a bit warm. Maybe it’s time for you to get some rest, Akira. If you’d like, I can take you home? Mother won’t mind.”
“Oh, I’d hate to cut your day short like that–”
“Goro’s right,” Miho cuts him off, an impish smile on her face. “I don’t mind. We’re just about done with these errands, anyway, and I can finish up by myself.” She wriggles her hand from Goro’s elbow and nudges him towards Akira, pushing them a few inches closer. “Go on. I know you’ve been looking for some alone time together.”
“Mother.” Goro sighs, but his smile is soft when he turns to face Akira. “Well, what do you say? If you’d really rather go by yourself…”
This is his last chance. “It’s okay. You can come.” He reaches out and laces their fingers together, turning to Miho with a smile. “I’ll send Goro back soon, Miho-san.”
“Take your time,” Miho chirps, waving as the pair walk off. Goro rolls his eyes and tugs Akira along.
Akira doesn’t know what to expect from Goro as they walk to the station. Do they talk often when they’re alone together? Or do they always have this strange, comfortable yet unnerving silence between them? He almost wishes for the real Goro to reveal himself now that they’re alone and berate him for choosing to indulge in this reality. He wants the real Goro back, period.
So this is it, then.
They arrive at Leblanc with not a single word uttered between them. The sun is setting when they finally stop outside the door; Akira peeks through the window and sees Wakaba animatedly chatting with Sojiro by the counter.
“I know you’re not sick, by the way,” Goro mumbles.
Akira whips his head to look at him. “Huh?”
“Something’s going on with you. I just can’t figure out what.” Sharp maroon eyes scan him up and down. “This has never happened before. I pride myself on being able to read you like a book, you know.”
Akira’s sure he is. He’s sure that this Goro knows this reality’s version of Akira inside and out, attached at the hip, best friends and rivals and everything they both clearly want to be. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be like that,” Goro snaps. “Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what I can do to help.”
And - it’s now or never, isn’t it? If he doesn’t break Goro out of this reality now, he might never be able to. He takes a deep breath.
“Tell me something,” Akira says. “Are you happy?”
“Huh?” The question seems to knock Goro off-kilter. “Today? Well… yes, I’d say so. It was nice to spend the day with you.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I mean - are you living a happy life?” He chokes up on the last word, keeps going. “With me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Goro asks. “You’re one of the most important people in my life. You know that.”
“And has it always been that way?” Akira asks quietly.
“Of course it–” suddenly Goro winces, a hand coming up to clutch at his head with a groan. He shakes his head. “I…”
He can’t stop now. “What about your mom?” Akira pushes on. “Was she this happy when you were younger, too? Do you remember?”
For a minute, there is only silence. Akira can only hear Goro’s own breathing, growing ragged as he fights the pounding in his head.
“...No.” Goro finally says. His voice is barely above a whisper. “But it was fine - we struggled, we did, and she did what she had to do. But we crawled out of it eventually–”
“How?” Akira asks. He hates every word that comes out of his mouth. “How did things get better? Can something that lucky really happen?”
“I don’t know,” Goro finally snaps. His eyes look wild when he looks up, but there’s no anger in his gaze. Instead, he looks devastated. “Akira, what is going on? What the fuck are you doing?”
That’s when his heart breaks. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, pulling Goro’s trembling body into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. You should go back - your mother’s waiting for you.”
After a moment, he finally pulls away. Goro doesn’t say a word, but Akira sees a flicker of his old self already - in the way he huddles into himself, in the spark in his eyes when he glares at him.
“Think about what I said,” Akira says. “Please.” Then he turns and opens the door to Leblanc, stepping in and letting it shut behind him.
When he arrives in Odaiba the next day, Goro is there.
His glare is sharp, paralyzing, and everything Akira needed to see.