Chapter Text
“I don’t know why I’m doing this.” Goro Akechi says, feeling like the world’s biggest punching bag. A clipboard hits him over the head. Tae Takemi scowls at him.
“So melodramatic, you kids. Will you stop being so testy for five minutes?” She tsks, leaning back in her chair. “I’m just doing a regular check up, as requested by your boyfriend. He did it too, y’know.”
At the mention of his boyfriend, Goro flinches; if anything, Goro becomes more prickly. He looks at his hands, covered by gloves. Protection. He knows Akira is outside, sitting as close to the door as possible and eavesdropping.
“Yeah, but that’s not all this is, is it?” He hisses back, cradling his left hand like it’s been scorched by fire. “It’s because of the bond.”
Takemi narrows her eyes, leaning forward to glare back at him. After a few minutes, Goro breaks eye contact, lips pursed. Takemi smiles in satisfaction, and prepares a needle.
“Look, kid, All I was told is that you might have some health issues, what with disappearing for 2 years?” Tae mocks slightly, holding up her hand to ask Goro for his. Reluctantly, he gives it to her, and she rubs his skin with the disinfectant. “Akira just wants to know if you’re okay.”
Two years. Two years after Maruki had messed with the space time continuum so bad, it left Goro in a hopeless limbo between life and death that he’d only escaped either out of sheer luck or the grace of a fickle god.
Goro’s brain is going into overdrive, eyebrows furrowed to distract himself as Tae draws the ichor from his veins. He remembers the day they’d found out they were soulmates. On the way back from their late night fight at mementos, when Akira had reached out to grab Goro’s ungloved hand to prevent him from falling over when the train jerked to a stop. He hadn’t expected to feel the buzz, electricity coursing through his body as pulses of warmth ran through him, filling him from head to toe. He looked over to Akira, expecting to see the same bewilderment, but all he found was a huge smile and elation in his eyes that could threaten to eat Goro alive with no hope to survive. It had to be a mistake, a sick joke the universe decided to play just to spit in his face.
But it didn’t matter. Goro’s plans had to remain unchanged. This was all he knew. Even when they were holding hands and kissing each other senseless, or lying in bed, bodies pressed tight against each other, pinkies hooked together to feel their bond thrumming under their skin. It couldn’t last. If Akira were truly his soulmate, he’d understand.
When Goro was walking toward the fated room, gun heavy in his hand, he remembered the boy with tousled hair and fair skin that sat beside him, arm lazily slung over his shoulder while they both sat in silence reading. Goro almost regretted shooting him between the eyes.
It didn’t look like the face of a man that understood.
He has nightmares, regrets, and he wished for his core to stop trembling at the thought of lazy smiles and the taste of coffee on his lips. And then suddenly, Akira’s not dead, he’s pleading with Goro; he's reaching for his hand. Goro doesn’t remember much, too caught up in his madness; but then just before the nothingness hit him, there was sorrow, regret. He bleeds out just inches away from Akira, wanting to feel the thrum beneath his skin again, just beyond the closed bulkhead door. He doesn’t deserve it, he never had.
“Kid? You alright?” Tae waves her hand in front of Goro’s face, startling him out of his reverie. He looks around quickly, spots the blood in the tube, and the plaster stuck on his arm. It was already over. “You don’t have an issue with needles like Akira does, do you?”
“Akira has an issue with needles?” Goro asks instead, eyebrows furrowing. Before Tae can respond, the door opens behind her, and Akira enters the room with a tight lipped frown.
“Dr. Takemi.” Akira nods at her as a greeting, and she nods back. She leans back in her seat and rolls it over to the computer. After a few clicks, she turns back to Akira, motioning her pen in Goro’s direction.
“I’ll send the test results to the lab; I’ll have it back to you in about a week,” she explains. He nods again, holding his hand out to help Goro off the examination bed. Goro narrows his eyes at Akira, pulling down his sleeve.
“You have an issue with needles?” Goro snaps, and Akira’s shoulders go tense. When he doesn’t respond, Goro scowls at him, pushing himself off the bed and walks out the door, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ to Tae as he walks out. The sun has already begun to set, casting the whole of Yongen Jaya a orange hue.
Akira doesn’t immediately follow after him, most likely to talk to the doctor about his stupid test or something. Goro violently shoves his hands in the pocket of his jacket, doing his best to hold in the shiver that passes through his core as the early signs of winter send a chill down his spine as he walks towards Leblanc. He concentrates on his anger instead, face flushing in humiliation. Of course Akira never told him. Why would he? He’s probably the reason he has the fear in the first place.
“I’ve been afraid of needles since I was a kid.” Akira, who still retains his ability to read Goro’s mind, says under his breath. Goro finally looks up to see him walking beside Goro, matching his hurried pace. Goro doesn’t respond, instead shoving open the door to Leblanc with more force than necessary. Akira, right behind him, catches the door right before it smashes into the wall. “I cried at the sight of blood and I was small, so to prank me, some kids would hold me down, prick my skin with sharp things they could find until they went too far, and it broke skin. I got infected so bad I had a fever. It’s not your fault.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He hates that he can't just tell if he's telling the truth, or making up an elaborate lie to satiate him. Either option makes Goro feel sick, like he’s about to vomit. Sojiro knocks gently on the counter to get their attention, and the both of them suddenly remember that they have an audience. Sojiro simply points upwards at the attic, face remaining perfectly neutral.
Goro quickly heads up the stairs, Akira following close behind. Absolutely incensed, Goro shells off his jacket and throws it at Akira, who lets it hit him. The jacket slides off of him and it falls onto the floor with a low thud. Unfazed, he starts to approach him, as though Goro was a startled animal. He realises he must look absolutely crazed, if Akira’s looking at him like that.
Like he actually cares.
“It’s not your-”
“Shut up!” Blood rushes in his ears, and he shoves Akira, who stumbles back a few feet. “It was my fault! You don’t think I knew what they did to you in there?”
Goro's lip trembles and he stomps forward to shove Akira again. This time Akira’s ready, and he stands his ground this time, grabbing hold of Goro’s arm before it makes contact with his chest. Goro flinches, and tugs his arms out of Akira’s grip. “You don’t think I had a say in what they did to you? You never told me- You never told me- ! And I let them-!”
“Goro-” Akira reaches his hand to caress Goro’s cheek, but he lurches backwards violently. He can’t breathe. He can’t BREATHE---
“Stop TRYING TO TOUCH ME!” Goro screams, and he feels the temperature of the room drop. Akira’s hand drops to his side, tilts his head downward, as though he’s been scolded. Goro’s drops to his knees, the panic slowly ebbing away as he tries to pull air back into his lungs. Akira doesn’t move from where he stands, as if shocked silent. “I hate it.”
“Boys.” Sojiro’s gruff voice rings out from the bottom of the staircase. No doubt, Akira’s guardian overheard his outburst. “I’m closing up early. I’ll leave the keys downstairs.”
It hasn’t been the same. Not since Maruki fucked it all up. Now they’re broken, now he’s broken, far beyond repair.
Sojiro doesn’t wait for a reply that doesn’t come, because they can hear the door opening and closing downstairs. Goro waits for the ringing in his ears to stop, and when it finally does, he looks up to see that Akira’s moved across the room. Akira’s hand, palm facing him, gently outstretched toward him, a kind, sad smile on his face. Goro's heart skips a beat. He lets out a shaky breath, removes his glove, and holds his hand out to lace it together with Akira’s.
Nothing.
There’s a barely perceptible twitch at Akira’s mouth, and Goro takes his hand back, and there’s a cold empty feeling where there should have been nothing but the hum of a soulbond.
“I should go.” Goro whispers, but his body is sluggish.
“I thought you didn’t care about fate.” Akira grunts, and moves to cup Goro’s face. This time, Goro lets him, but it’s cold, cold, cold, cold, “You're under no one's thumb now.”
“You’re right,” Goro nuzzles into Akira’s hand, before his eyes flicker to bore directly into Akira’s. “But you’re still disappointed, aren’t you?”
Akira doesn’t reply. Goro Akechi is tired.
“I thought so.” Goro stands up, and he feels like his head’s been stuffed full of cotton. He slowly makes his way down the stairs, and Akira must be talking, but he can’t hear anything past his disappointment.
His life is like a loose bit of string. Even after they’ve finally grown bored of him, let him live his life by his own rules, they plop him back on earth on a random street in the boonies, in a catatonic state while the world moved on without him. They make sure to cut out his heart too, leaving him to bleed everywhere and all over the only other person he’s ever cared about. He didn’t deserve it anyway, he supposes.
“Akira-senpai?”
The both of them freeze at the sight of Sumire, standing by the door. Sumire was here. Why was she here? Her eyes fall on Goro, and widens in surprise.
“Akechi-san?” She calls out, and Goro does his best to give her his trademark condescending smirk, even if he feels his insides twisting itself into knots.
“Surprise.” He deadpans, and she gulped, straightening her posture. “Finally back from the states, yes? You’ve been away for two years now?”
“Ah- yes! My coach gave me the okay to head back home for a few days. I saw that Leblanc’s lights were still on,” She shuffles through her bag, before pulling out a little keychain of a palm tree. “I was thinking I could drop by and give Akira-senpai his souvenir- ah, I didn’t get you anything, Akechi-san- I mean, I didn’t even know you were alive-”
“It’s okay.” Akira finally cuts in before Sumire swallows her tongue trying to talk to Goro. He sidesteps Goro to stand in front of her, but he turns back to face Goro. “Stay, please.”
Akira says it with such yearning in his veins that Goro is rooted to the ground, and he nods his head, not trusting himself to speak. Maybe he could stay here. Maybe Akira actually wants him here. Akira had the power to defy fate- perhaps it might fix their broken one.
“Here you go senpai. I hope I wasn’t inter- AH!” Sumire suddenly yelps, and the souvenir clatters to the ground. Both Akira and her are frozen, staring at each other in disbelief, their hands flung backwards.
“You- Senpai... we have…? We... didn’t before-” She starts.
The spell Akira puts on Goro dissipates completely and cold harsh reality washes over him.
Goro gives them a weak smile, a faint echo of his television smiles, and he hates that his eyes are filling with tears.
“Who were we kidding?”
Akira doesn’t stop him as Goro walks out into the cold, body numb, but not from the cold. His head hurts, and he doesn’t know where he’s going; he just needs to get away from him. His soulmate, who has a perfectly good new one, gifted to him in as neat of a bow as the one tying Sumire's hair up
Back in Leblanc, Sumire is trying to get Akira’s attention, but he just continues to stare after Goro. The world was falling apart underneath him. Goro Akechi has always been a star, ready to burn out and take everything with him, and Akira's still hopelessly trapped in his orbit.