Chapter Text
Goro wakes up in a small room.
His back hurts, the small tufts of grass doing very little to soften the hardness of the ground digging into his spine. He sits up quickly. The last thing he remembers is whispering a quiet good night to Joker before curling up comfortably in the blanket and burrowing into the warm mattress. But now he is cold, a chilly breeze biting at his cheeks, and he doesn’t know how he ended up here.
“Robin Hood?” he hears a voice tentatively call out.
Goro startles, and his eyes widen when he sees who it is.
It’s a boy around his age. He has messy black hair and a worried expression on his face similar to Goro’s, though he quickly puts on a wobbly grin as he approaches hesitantly. The sweatshirt that he’s wearing is a little too big on him and his jeans look worn out.
He looks exactly like a small version of Joker.
“Joker-san?” Goro asks hopefully, taking a step forward.
The boy shakes his head, a certain disappointment washing over his face. Goro feels his own heart plummet. “You look just like Robin Hood,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”
Goro shakes his head. “It’s okay. You look like Joker-san too.” He peeks up tentatively at the other boy. He’s a stranger, but he doesn’t seem untrustworthy. The only other kids Goro’s age always make fun of him for having a mom who is a pro-sti-tute or a dad who hates his existence. But this black-haired boy looks more embarrassed than anything. “I-I’m Goro. What’s your name?”
The boy blinks at him. “Akira,” he says softly, so softly that Goro has to strain his ears just to hear it.
“Akira,” Goro repeats. He remembers that Joker’s teammates had called him that before. So there must be a connection. He doesn’t know why Joker suddenly looks the same age as him, or why he’s so quiet and hesitant now, but Goro knows that there’s no way anyone related to Joker could be a bad guy. “D-do you know where we are?”
Akira shakes his head, and the two of them look around. They’re in a small section of what looks like a maze, tall bushes blocking on all sides. There’s nothing else there except for a slight opening in the bushes in front of them.
“I was in the cafe place with Joker-san last night,” Goro explains. It had been fun. The two of them had made a small tower out of all the empty bottles from the weird vending machine drinks. Mona accidentally knocked it down right before they could finish, and he had giggled at the look of horror on Joker’s face. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
“I don’t know either,” Akira says, kicking the dirt. “Robin Hood and I just came back from Me-men-tos and then I woke up here.”
“What’s Me-men-tos?” Goro asks curiously.
Akira perks up a little at that. “It’s this weird place with monsters,” he explains, his eyes shining. “But it isn’t scary! Robin Hood is really powerful and cool, and he defeats all the monsters so easily!” He makes a slightly pinched face, mimes the swinging of a sword, and then calls, “Persona!”
Goro’s eyes almost bulge out of his head.
“Joker-san has Personas too!” Goro says excitedly. “H-he has so many of them! And they’re all cool and do different things. He fights monsters too!”
Akira stares at him in wonder. “Does he wear a mask too?”
“Yes!”
They look at each other, and then break out in identical smiles. Goro thinks that if Akira knows someone with the same powers as Joker (though Goro doubts that they’re as cool as Joker), then maybe they can be friends.
It’s the first time he’s thought this way about someone his age.
“Robin Hood is my friend,” Akira says proudly, but then looks down and adds quietly “my b-best friend.”
Goro blinks. Akira’s amazing, to be best friends with someone who knows how to use Personas. Joker has so many cool friends and he doesn’t need someone like Goro. “Joker-san is my hero,” he says simply.
“Hero,” Akira mouths, looking awestruck. “That’s so cool.”
Goro bobs his head eagerly. “He is.”
Akira gives him a small smile. “D-do you want to be friends, Goro?”
Goro stares at him. He remembers the last time someone asked to be his friend, the feeling of hope and happiness blossoming in his heart. He remembers being asked to hang out at the arcade after school, using up the last of his saved money to ride the train there. He remembers waiting at the arcade for hours by himself, excitement and enthusiasm dwindling, before taking the train home in the dark and crying into his mom’s arms.
But Akira is staring at his shoes like he expects his offer to be rejected. It’s a look that Goro has worn many times. When he asks his mom if she can spend more time with him instead of her friends. When he asks his teachers if he can have a few extra days to finish the assignment because he can’t afford to buy the books to read at home. When he asks the neighborhood kids if he can join in their playing only to be laughed and scoffed at for even suggestion such a thing.
Goro wonders if he looked as small as Akira does now.
“Yes,” Goro says, reaching forward to take Akira’s small hand in his own. It’s warm. “If you’re okay with someone like me being your friend.”
Akira beams at him, and Goro feels a warmth sit lightly in his heart. It’s not unlike the feeling he gets whenever Joker smiles in his direction. “Of course!”
Akira is the same age as him, Goro learns. He’s from the countryside and he also doesn’t have many friends. His parents aren’t home that often, so he often goes home to an empty house and makes his own dinners and goes to sleep alone.
He hates that house, he tells Goro.
In return, Goro tells him a little bit about his mom. How she loves him a lot, but sometimes on her bad days she gets mad at him for asking too much. She’s really busy too, and Goro dreads the days when she stays out too late with her friends and he has to crawl under the blankets by himself.
Akira is a good listener. He doesn’t talk when Goro is speaking, unlike his classmates who don’t care about anything he has to say. He giggles when Goro says something funny, frowns when Goro says something sad, and even squeezes Goro’s hand when he mentions the neighborhood kids bullying him on his way back from school.
“We’re pretty similar,” Akira says once Goro finishes his story. Goro nods. It’s not entirely the same, but he didn’t expect to meet someone who understands what he’s going through. “That must be why we’re friends!”
Friends. The word still makes him feel warm and happy. Unlike his mom’s friends, Akira doesn’t make him want to cry, or do weird things in exchange for more food on the table. Akira is simply there, a presence next to Goro that reminds him that he’s not alone.
Somehow, the simple act of existing is enough to make him feel comfortable.
“What’s that?” Goro asks, pointing to the little pocket thing strapped to Akira’s pants. It looks kind of like a pencil pouch.
Akira blinks, and then he beams and whips something out so fast. Goro’s eyes widen as Akira twirls around a small gun before grasping it firmly with both hands and pointing it in the opposite direction.
“Bang,” Akira says, narrowing his eyes and cocking the gun back as if to fire it. But then he turns back to Goro, smiling and putting the gun away carefully. “Cool, huh?”
Goro stares at him, dumbstruck. “W-was that real?” he asks, eyes darting over to the gun holder.
“Yep,” Akira says, though he looks a little bashful at the look of wonder Goro is giving him. “Robin Hood bought it for me and taught me how to use it. It’s only for monsters, though.”
Akira is so cool. He knows how to fight like all those cool superheroes in movies, and he’s trustworthy enough that this Robin Hood was willing to teach him how to use a gun.
Goro wishes Joker had taught him something like that too. He wants to be able to protect himself, protect his mom, protect Joker, protect even Akira. But instead, he had been escorted out of that white place with all the monsters, and Joker hadn’t taken him back ever since.
Does that mean that Joker thought he was too incompetent to learn how to fight? Or did he consider it a waste of time to teach someone like Goro? He doesn’t know which one hurts more.
Akira notices his frown and quickly reaches for him. “I-I’m sorry,” Akira says, grabbing his hand. “Did I scare you?”
“No, that was really cool,” Goro says. When Akira simply looks at him in confusion, he continues “I just wish I knew how to do something like that too.”
“When we meet up with Robin Hood and your Joker-san again, maybe we can ask if you can learn too,” Akira says excitedly. “And then we can fight together!”
Goro sighs. “I don’t think Joker-san wants me to know how to fight,” he mumbles. “He knows I’m useless and can’t do anything right.”
Akira’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “I don’t think he thinks that way. I don’t think that way either!” He moves close and forces Goro to look at him. “You’re so smart! When you were talking about all the books you’ve read and all the things you’ve learned, I was really jealous of how much you know.”
Goro stares at him. “You were jealous of me?”
“Yes.” Akira’s head bobs earnestly. “I wish I was as smart as you. You’re amazing, Goro.” He suddenly looks up and points. “Look!”
There’s a branching path in the maze. Goro peers both ways curiously. The left path has a winding spiral of metal stairs, leading up to a place so high that Goro can’t see even if he cranes his neck up. The right path leads into a hallway, grass walls giving way to cold and dark concrete walls.
Akira bounces on the balls of his feet. “Which way do you think we should go?”
“You can choose,” Goro says. Both ways look very scary to him, and he wishes that this grassy maze area had extended forever.
“No, you should choose,” Akira says, giving Goro a big grin. “You’re the smart one here! I believe in you.”
Goro doesn’t know how he’s supposed to determine which way is the correct path with the utter lack of clues. But Akira’s still smiling at him expectantly, and he really doesn’t want to let him down. Not after the other boy had placed his faith in him.
Goro tucks his fingers under his chin in the thinking pose he had seen the older version of him do in a dream, and Akira’s grin gets even wider. “I think we should go up,” Goro says. “If Joker-san and your Robin Hood are here, they’re so strong that they might be all the way at the top already.”
“Good thinking!” Akira says. “Left it is, then.”
Halfway up the stairs, the two of them are panting enough for Goro to regret his decision. Once they reach the top, the metal stairs behind them magically disappear, and Goro suddenly feels the prick of goosebumps rising on his arms.
“Where are we?” Akira asks, looking around. It’s a bright and colorful place with a lot of pretty fruit trees, but Goro can’t help but think that everything around them looks very fake.
He opens his mouth to answer when there’s the sound of beating wings.
Goro whirls around, praying that it’s Arsene, the persona followed by a familiar gentle smile, the swish of a long tailcoat, a cool and heroic silhouette casting a grand shadow.
It’s not.
It’s not Joker who approaches them. It’s one of those monster things, large wings flapping as it looms closer, a snarl on its face as it raises its sword menacingly.
Goro wants to run. But where? The stairs behind them had disappeared, and he can see nothing but endless rows of trees as far as he can see. This… this must have been the wrong choice. Akira had trusted him and Goro had betrayed him. He should have picked the right path. He should have been smart enough to know not to go up the stairs.
But it’s too late for regrets. It’s always too late.
Goro lets out an involuntary squeak, and Akira throws himself between Goro and the monster, whipping out a small dagger out of thin air.
“It’s okay, Goro,” Akira says. His hands are shaking, but there is no hesitation on his face. “I’ll protect you.”
“No, don’t—“ Goro whimpers, but Akira either does not hear him or chooses to ignore him. He lets out a yell and charges forward, both hands gripping the dagger tightly. The monster’s sword comes swinging down and Goro watches in amazement as Akira rolls out of the way and then sinks the dagger into the monster’s knee.
The monster staggers backwards and lets out a loud roar. Goro stares, wide-eyed. The way Akira wields his weapons and attacks reminds him so much of Joker that he almost forgets that the other boy is also only seven years old.
Akira catches him looking and gives him a big grin.
The smile is quickly wiped off his face by a look of terror. “Goro, watch out!” Akira yells.
Goro whirls around to see the monster standing right behind him, sword poised and raised, ready to strike.
“No,” he whispers, stumbling backwards. He trips over his own feet and falls to the ground uselessly. The monster does not stop advancing. “P-please, I don’t want to die.”
The monster doesn’t listen to him and raises its sword again. Goro can feel tears sliding down his cheeks and he quickly squeezes his eyes shut. His hands won’t stop shaking. He wants his mom. He wants Joker.
The pain never comes.
Instead, Goro hears a shattering scream that he’s sure will stay with him for the rest of his life.
He opens his eyes just in time to see Akira collapse to the ground in front of him. Akira, who had jumped in front of Goro and protected him with his own body. Akira, who is curled up into himself and letting out painful sounding wheezes.
The monster’s sword is red.
“No!” Goro yells, and his fears completely evaporate as he dashes over to the other boy’s side. The front of Akira’s shirt is completely red and his skin feels cold, much colder than humans should ever be. There is a glazed look in his eyes. “Akira! Akira!!”
The only response he gets is a pained moan.
“I’m sorry,” Goro sobs, clutching onto Akira’s body. “I’m sorry! This is all my fault! I was the one who decided to go this way, and you got hurt saving me. Please… please don’t die. Don’t leave me alone.”
Akira whimpers. He doesn’t seem to have heard Goro at all, and his eyes are focused on something far away. “H-hurts,” he mumbles, and then lets out a weak sounding cough. “Robin Hood, help me. It hurts so much…”
Goro watches in horror as Akira’s eyes slowly drift shut, and then the other boy doesn’t move again.
Goro lets out a loud wail and buries his face into Akira’s bloody chest. The monster advances again, sword raised, yellow eyes glowing ominously.
The last thing Goro hears is “You’re not the one I’m looking for” before his mind goes completely blank.
Goro wakes up in a small room.
His back hurts, the small tufts of grass doing very little to soften the hardness of the ground digging into his spine. He sits up quickly, the nightmare of what just transpired playing on repeat in the back of his eyelids.
The blood on his hands. The cooling body under his fingertips. The paleness of a face that had once smiled so happily at him.
Goro wants to cry.
“Robin Hood?” he hears a voice tentatively call out.
Goro whirls around so fast that he startles the other boy.
“Hi,” the boy says, giving a hesitant smile and a small wave.
Goro stares at him uncomprehendingly. “A-Akira?”
The boy who had died in Goro’s arms blinks. “How do you know my name?”