Chapter Text
The amount of pain the human mind was capable of enduring without shutting down on the spot could truly be staggering at times.
The physical shell could go through the worst ordeals known to mankind, one leg torn apart, ten nails pried away, an arm twisted at an impossible angle, and the mind would still be able to function – although its level of tolerance greatly varied from person to person. The weakest could faint from a bleeding scratch. The toughest could have one of their eyes sliced off only to see their strength of mind rewarded with a cruel, inflexible awareness that would accompany them through a journey of pain; the sweet relief of unconsciousness being but a mere luxury.
Unfortunately, Akechi Goro was part of the second category of those people.
The pain was intolerable, a sensation of extreme heat aimed at his side like a white-hot blade had pierced his skin and was now lodged there. It seemed as though every last fiber of his being was on fire, protesting against the intrusion and responding furiously in kind. But no matter how much blood he spat through a series of sputters, no matter how even the smallest of his fading movements caused a jolt of agony throughout his body, no matter how nauseous he felt, his mind simply refused to give in. He couldn’t faint… couldn’t escape the pain.
Despite himself, Goro found himself give a brief cough of a chuckle. Even in death, he was unlucky – just like he had been unlucky in life.
He would have laughed some more if it didn’t jostle his gushing wound so badly. A sad, pathetic laugh, befitting those who finally resigned themselves to their fate.
Perhaps in an attempt to distract him from the pain or the bite of a great chill fast approaching, his efficient mind suddenly supplied him with several images of his most recent past, each more vivid than the last. Like flipping the pages of a picture book, those images flashed in his mind’s eye, memories he knew would haunt him until his very last, imminent moment. The confrontation with the Phantom Thieves. Losing the upper hand, then finding himself collapse. Being held at gunpoint by his cognitive self. The look of utter dementia in his eyes. The rise of the partition wall. And then…
The torture.
Because this is how it felt like. The torturous stab of the bullet piercing his flesh and remaining there, the torturous metallic smell of blood overwhelming his senses to the point of gagging, the torturous cold layer of sweat dripping through every single pore…
The torturous truth of the fate Shidou had had in store for him.
Goro’s shoulders shook once. Whether with a sob or laughter, the jury was still out.
His heart ached.
It was completely different from the pain of his wound. It was as though a powerful grip had grabbed his heart, twisting it in all directions, tightening around it like a deadly vice.
He wanted to die already.
Some people would call the slight delay to his death a miracle. The fact that his own bullet went cleanly through his double’s forehead. The fact that no Shadow came for him afterward. The fact that the entire Palace seemed to vanish into thin air all around him, reclaimed by its real world counterpart – which turned out to be the Diet Building's basement.
He was more than ready to call this miracle a curse. This way, he wouldn’t feel pain anymore. He wouldn’t feel… anything.
He would be fine with that.
But even though the last ounces of his strength were fading, even though the cold was becoming as unbearable as the pain was starting to remiss, even though his mind was becoming cluttered with white fog, his awareness would remain intact. It refused to back down.
Perhaps because a part of him, very deep down, knew he didn’t truly want to close his eyes just yet. Perhaps because it knew he was lying to himself, no matter how much he thought otherwise. Perhaps because it knew he could never find peace in the eternal darkness if he left the world so soon.
He still had unfinished business to take care of. There was something very important he had to do.
He couldn’t die there. Someone had to help him, anyone.
And if nobody came, then he would have to help himself. Like he had done his entire life.
Slowly, laboriously, Goro dragged his exhausted body to the end of the room where awaited a flight of stairs. He didn’t bother trying to stand up and walk – he knew he would only crumple in a heap again. Each meter passed felt like a veritable ton was tied to his limbs and hindering his movements. Even so, he soon reached the base of the stairs, although he could feel whatever little color left in his face drain away instantly; crawling on flat ground was one thing, climbing a steep one was another. It wasn’t that tall, perhaps twenty to thirty steps in total, but a regular flight of stairs had never seemed so much like a small mountain to him than in that very moment.
It felt like it took him an eternity to reach the middle steps. Panting in exhaustion, Goro allowed himself a moment’s respite and threw a glance over his shoulder at the progress he had already made, only for the expected endorphins to come in the form of a leaping heart instead. The staircase was covered in blood, crimson swipes against pure white marble.
Swallowing with difficulty, Goro picked up the pace… as much as his broken body would allow it, that is. But when he reached the landing was also the moment he reached his limit – his face dropped to the floor, cheek pressed against the cold surface, his heavy breathing the sole source of sound in the otherwise silent room.
He wasn’t going to make it.
He knew, in that instant, that this door would be the last thing he saw. His short life would end right there in this very room, isolated from all, forgotten by the world.
Something warm stung his eyes. Even in those circumstances, he found the strength to blink it away.
But then, a distant, regular thump rang out, and Goro’s eyes opened wide.
He pricked up his ears, trying to focus and make out that sound, so long as his suddenly hammering heart didn’t drown it out… but his efforts eventually paid off. Those were the sounds of footsteps; footsteps that were coming in his direction. A few paces away… Only a couple… And then, an abrupt stop.
Breath held, lips apart, Goro watched as the door before him creaked open, the thin stream of light it set free widening into a large rectangle upon the threshold. A silhouette broke its perfection, standing tall in the doorframe and towering to their full height over him. Immediately, Goro’s instinct took over, but all he managed to rasp was a weak…
“A-Ah… Please… H… elp…”
By way of answer, the figure took a step forward. It was Shidou.
He was gazing down at him, features unfathomable behind those glasses, chin held high but eyes focused only downwards. Like he was looking at a little patch of dirt.
Goro froze. He felt his heart collapse in his chest.
Whatever combativity, whatever will to live still sustained him winked out like a feeble flame caught in a high wind.
He knew it was over. Shidou had come to personally witness that the job was complete. His powerful omniscience and remarkable fixation to see things done properly probably led him to this time and place, guiding him to the final loose end he would need to tie with that frightening, almost supernatural instinct of his.
“W… Well… Are you… happy now…?”
The icy grip of fear upon his core at Shidou’s sight was short-lived. It had gone as fast as it came, replaced nearly instantaneously by defiance – a tiny shred, certainly, matching his imminent death, but still fueled by a very alive spite.
“After all… This is… This is what you wanted… You wanted this… all along…”
Shidou kept silent. Where Goro glared deadly daggers, his face remained entirely motionless.
“Well… Congrat… Congratulations, then…” Goro continued, his shoulders quivering with mirthless laughter. “You did it… You won…”
There were thousands more things he burned to say, spit, yell at him – but at last, his mind succumbed. Goro had yearned for it only moments before… but now, he could have screamed in frustration at this terrible timing if his strength had allowed it, screamed the regrets burdening his heart and die relatively peacefully knowing he managed to pry them all out. Just so he could at least witness anything but this infuriating nothingness permeate that monster of a man’s features.
This was as far as his entire thoughts would go. His head swayed from side to side, disoriented by the sudden blur covering his vision. He tried to speak, mumble anything, and while his lips moved, no sound came out except a quiet exhale of exhaustion.
His heavy eyelids had fluttered close long before his face touched the hard floor. But if he hadn't fainted just yet, he would have definitely noticed… He would have noticed the furrow creasing this cold, impenetrable gaze.
Only Shidou knew what it meant.