Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They don’t have the money to do a reading when he’s born; at least that’s what Goro’s mother says when he asks the first time. It’s not so uncommon where he is, the two of them scraping together a life in an unaligned town, far from the city. There are other children in the school with no fate either, but the ones who do seem to stand taller, wear it like a badge of honor, a path only they can see. 

Some of them started lives far away, in better, brighter lands where fate readings were easy and almost mandatory. Some scraped together what little they had to make sure their child had a chance, could escape from this place without prosperity. But there aren't many diviners who pass through, and those who do charge fees that are too high for most to consider. 

What his mother does have is an old pack of tarot, which she pulls out from a locked drawer one day when he’s six years old. 

“It’s our little secret, okay?” she whispers, kissing the top of his head and winking. He’s too young to know it’s not normal to have cards, to be able to produce them with just a key. 

“I don’t know how to read properly, so I can’t show your fate. But let’s see what you get when you pull a card,” she says with a laugh, and he remembers how bright it sounded as he reached with small hands. 

“Whichever one you want, honey,” she says, soft and encouraging, and he lifts a hand to the pack, still thinking there might be a right answer despite her words. 

There’s a lot of cards, but Goro picks one carefully, deciding that a card near the bottom of the pile is best. She helps him release it until it’s in his hands, holding it face down until she nods. He turns it over, blinking at the unfamiliar script, the strange images that look nothing like the storybooks he’s used to. 

He traces the card, frayed and crinkled with time and usage, enthralled by what he sees. A woman sits, her dress shades of red, gold and blue, in her left hand a sword pointing upwards and to the right a set of scales, perfectly balanced. Light shines from either side like sunbeams, a metal crown on her head, and finally above, a small knight on a horse rides at the centre of the illumination. 

The outside edge of the card is framed in silver twists that glitter as he moves it in the light. In the top bracket is a ‘V’ and three long lines, while a single word curves along the bottom. The memory of this particular card sticks in his mind forever and no matter how many decks he sees, this will always be his true version.

Goro peers at it, and just as they do whenever he picks up something with words on it, his mother puts her finger at the first letter. 

“Shall we try sounds? What’s this?” she asks. 

“Jay,” he replies, and she nods. 

“That’s right, now let’s do the rest,” she says, as they go through each letter and she pulls out the sounds until they can echo, unused before in his mouth. 

“Justice,” he manages on the second try and she kisses the side of his head. 

“Well done. It means to be fair. And usually represents a considerate person,” she says, a smile in her voice and Goro isn’t really sure what most of that means, but she is happy with him, and that’s all he wants in life, really. 

“Shall we do another?” she asks, and he nods, excited as she takes the card back and shuffles the deck. 

This time he pulls a card from near the top, and she laughs in surprise when it’s Justice again. But the laughter stops at the third, fourth, and even fifth time. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks when she falls quiet, and she quickly shakes her head. 

“No, of course not honey. These things...we’ll see how it goes as you get older,” she concludes, putting the cards away again. 

Goro frowns, hating the phrase ‘older,’ some magical time when he’ll know more, see more, but shown things kept hidden. His mother doesn’t often say it, but all the other adults do, so he doesn’t pay much mind to why this might be a warning sign. 

In the years that pass, Goro always picks the Justice card. Once he throws the entire deck on the floor, and Justice is the only card that lands face up. After that, he doesn’t use it again, a little too unnerved at the results. 

He learns that divining is a rare power, and the use of cards outside of certain people is strictly forbidden, but laws seem to matter less in this small, unlicenced part of town. Many things happen that shouldn’t, and that idea of fairness first explained so long ago seeps deep inside him. 

It’s not fair when someone breaks into their home and steals their heater. It’s not fair when he coughs so hard he spits blood and there’s no one who can give him medicine or magic without a hefty price. It’s not fair that he can see the lights of the city burn and shine when their whole town’s supply of electricity is cut for six days after a crime no one living here committed. 

Goro wonders if there really is any justice. If there is such an entity with her sword and scales, weighing an outcome. Growing up it feels like that sword is pointed against his neck, the scales already pulled against him, and everyone he knows shunned and lost. 

Then, he turns twelve. And his mother dies. 

That seems to be the most unfair thing of all. She is all he has in this small slice of the world, and one day that’s ripped away. They tell him she died peacefully, something in her brain just stopped working. Goro can never remember the last thing he said to her, or her to him; that conversation is lost in a haze of a Tuesday morning when he’d left for school. It hurts and it haunts, but he barely has to think about it because all of a sudden he’s completely and utterly on his own. 

He’s too old to be taken in by anyone, too young to stand on his own feet. He’s clever, but schooling can only take you so far, and Goro spends exactly one week in an orphanage before he leaves in the dead of night with a split lip and tears which never fall. 

This town though, is made up of people who slipped through the gaps, a whole world opening up to him as another closes. It’s not exactly easy going, and a few times Goro wonders if the cold will truly stop him from waking up in the morning, but it takes less than three weeks for him to find an out. 

The bars are easy places to make money in various ways, so like many others, he tries to find work. It doesn’t work, to begin with, but one day as he’s waiting, he watches a group play cards. Something about the man in the blue coat has him disgruntled, his senses telling him to watch out. And as he does, he sees it. 

“Card counting,” he mutters to himself. Or he thinks to himself, as the woman who’d been standing nearby looks down. 

“Which one?” she asks, voice stiff and with an edge, and Goro gestures his chin towards the man in the coat. 

The woman watches the game for a few minutes, then storms over, the ensuing shouting and rage putting even Goro on edge with its tone. After the game is ended and the man removed, she turns to him with an appraising look. 

And that is how Goro Akechi gets his first job. 

There’s no real law enforcement in this type of world, but there is a code of conduct. And despite his age, Goro is good at finding out those who subvert the system. In a world where everything is starving for scraps, there’s a strange level of respect that he’s never seen before; and those who exploit that are treated with a contempt that he’s always felt whenever he was left wanting. 

It fuels and burns that frustration, gives him an outlet that both pays and soothes. That figure of Justice burns into his mind every day, and he knows this must be what the card had leaned towards. Fulfilling a role in the place he’s landed, ensuring that the result, no matter what way the scales are tipped, is fair. 

He’s seventeen when city police arrive. 

Goro has never seen anything so blinding and so strange. In this world of unseen laws, they blaze in, with guns and questions, looking for a man no one here has ever seen. A murderer, they say, who ran here, and they will stop at nothing to find him. 

By the time Goro hears about it, they’ve already ransacked several establishments, and he arrives to find a tense standoff where several people have been roughly arrested. Goro stops, surveying the scene, and spots exactly what he’s looking for. 

He marches forward, avoiding the officers, who too ignore him-- not a good sign-- and beelines for the woman talking on her phone. She wears a suit rather than a uniform, a tailored look. She frowns when he approaches but doesn’t seem concerned, hanging up as he stands before her. 

She seems...odd. A strangeness hangs over her, clouded, lost. She could go either way, he thinks, and that gives him an angle. 

“Hello, I was wondering if I could see your arrest warrant,” he says, adding a smile to the end of the sentence. 

She’s clearly caught off guard, crossing her arms. “Excuse me?” she says, and Goro can feel his urge to smirk flare. 

“You must have one to be able to enter the property, correct? For these particular individuals?” he says, gesturing to the people who are now all staring at him with rapt attention. Several people nearby have phones out and the air crackles with a little magic. 

“We’re here on a manhunt,” she says with a frustrated sigh, and Goro nods. 

“Oh, I’m aware. But if you wish to arrest these individuals you'll need probable cause for entering the building, and a specific warrant for their arrest. And considering you’re looking in the wrong part of town, I would say...you don’t have it,” he adds, tapping his chin. 

She stares at him, eyes narrowing, before stepping forward. 

“If you have any information-” 

Goro holds up his hand. “I don’t, and please do forgive the assumption. But this is the south side of town. From here, the only way out is into a no man's land, followed by a guarded border into the next town. There’s no crossing point. The capital is to the east, and if someone were to infiltrate, they would head north. There is a crossing point there, and it’s where the sewer system evacuates,” Goro says, the people around whispering as he finishes. 

“That is...even if someone were to come here. And if they were, then you’re clearly looking in the wrong place. Which is why I’m curious as to how you arrested these people,” he finishes. 

She stares at him, and he stares at her. Collectively, they hold their breaths, and for a second something about her almost seems to click; a change that he cannot truly see simply knows occurred in some sense. 

“Let them go,” she calls, turning briefly to the officers, who give her affronted looks, but she is turning back to him. 

“What’s your name?” she asks. 

“Goro Akechi. It’s nice to meet you…?” he says, holding out his hand. 

This time she doesn’t hesitate and simply takes it. “Sae Nijima, I’m with the public prosecution office. You mentioned a sewage system,” she says, and he nods. 

He doesn’t question why a prosecutor is here, even though his mind wonders. “It empties in the northeast part of town. The plant is nearby, you can’t miss it. It’s not guarded, simply off-putting by itself,” he says with a slight laugh. 

She nods seriously. “I hope you’re telling the truth,” she says. 

He doesn’t bother answering, and she turns away, giving orders in a manner that’s impressive, even to Goro’s mistrustful eye. He isn’t sure whether she will follow his advice; they already caused much damage clearly from simply deciding they wanted to ruin an area in a town they deem unfit to their city standards. But she had, in the end, listened to reason. Perhaps, he thinks to himself as he watched her leave, there is hope for the wider justice system.

He stays to help see that the people disturbed by the raid are fine enough to go about their business. There’s not much he can do to help clean up, his part he feels is done, and the level of gratefulness is a little too much. He manages to detach himself quickly though, until a voice calls to him. 

“Wait, please!” 

He turns, sees a girl slightly older than him run forward, her blonde hair falling across her face. 

“Let me pay you back, for what you did. They were about to destroy my stall, and it’s my only income,” she explains, smiling. 

He shakes his head. “There’s no need, I didn’t do much,” he says, but she steps forward. 

“You did though. I was divining when they showed up, and couldn’t find my certification, my fingers were shaking too much. They would have destroyed it and...probably worse,” she says, wincing. 

She’s probably right, he knows. Using divination without permission is punished heavily. Still, he is surprised she practices here. 

“I didn’t know we had a registered diviner in this part of town,” he remarks and her face falls for a second. 

“Oh yes, I recently arrived, just last month,” she explains. There’s clearly more to it then that, but secrets here are kept for a reason. 

“Well, not exactly a warm welcome I’m afraid, but hopefully it won’t happen again,” he says, hoping the conversation will come to a natural close. 

Unfortunately, she continues to be stubborn. “Please, really, I’d like to do even a small thing to thank you. Would you like a reading?” she says, eyes lighting up. 

Goro shakes his head. “Truly, it’s fine. I’ve never had one, so-” 

“Wait, never? You didn’t have a fate reading when you were born?” she says and he sighs. 

“No, I live here, where would I get one?” he snaps back, absolutely fed up, composure fraying. She doesn't seem deterred, though. If anything, she seems even more determined. 

“Then I insist. Everyone should see their fate,” she says, and Goro resigns himself to following her back the way he came. 

Really, it feels like a bother, although there is a small hint of curiosity there. He’s never really thought about getting a reading done, still too expensive even now, and really, what good would knowing his fate do? He’s lived this long without it, he can continue as such. 

Chihaya, as she introduces herself, takes him back to one of the shops, the front now boarded up, but inside relatively unscathed. 

“Please, sit down. I’ll just collect my things,” she says, and Goro does, watching as she moves to the back of the room, collecting several items before returning. 

She carefully spreads a dark cloth over the table, and Goro inwardly sighs at the dramatics, keeping his face neutral. She then places down a candle, a small metal bowl, a vial of clear liquid and a scrap of paper. Finally, the only object he recognises follows before she sits, a pack of tarot cards. 

“Okay, do you know anything about a fate reading?” she says. 

“I can’t say I do,” he replies, a little more intrigued now at the strange setup. 

“That’s fine. It’s split into two parts: a card reading and foresight prophecy. I’ll guide you through the first, but the final part is for you alone. Let’s start with the cards,” she says, and cuts the deck carefully before laying out her spread. 

The first card turned over, is Justice. Goro does laugh then, and she looks up, frowning. 

“Apologies, I have...an affinity with that card,” he says. 

She doesn’t ask how he knows it, for which he’s grateful for, simply hums, focused. “I can see why. Justice is clearly crucial to you, and to your life. You already struck me as a firm person, which this sometimes indicates, but Justice almost frames this whole reading with it’s position.” 

She begins to turn over the others, and Goro finds himself absorbed as the other six cards are revealed: The Falling Tower, Seven of Coins, Two of Cups, The Hanged Man, Four of Swords, The Wheel of Fortune. 

“Oh. This is...” she trails off, looks up at him, then clears her throat as she meets his gaze. 

It sends a chill down his spine, the way she looks at him, the way the cards seem to take a sudden weight in the room they had not previously possessed. Goro knows magic exists, has seen it and knows why divination is so highly prized and controlled. Or so he thought. But now he truly can feel the whims of fate in a way he was unprepared for as he stepped into this room. 

“The cards themselves each have meaning, but brought together it seems your fate is somewhat turbulent. You have a dramatic change on the horizon, but followed by success. Then again your life will take another turn, with more uncertainty that will take you time to recover from. And ultimately you are at the hands of fate. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone who is so wrapped up in fate before. Oh, but Two of Cups, I always love it when someone pulls that,” she says with a smile, her whole expression changing. 

Goro is still a little lost in the amount of terrible changes he’s going to go through that he doesn’t respond immediately, and Chihaya points down at the Two of Cups, right in the centre of his reading. 

“It’s a love card, one of the strongest. So you’ll meet someone who cares for you deeply,” she says with a smile.

Goro smiles back although his stomach does turn somewhat, but in a way which he cannot tell whether is hopeful or despondent. Love is not a word he’s had much use for, and he cannot imagine ever finding someone who would care in this world where things are not kind, nor gives him the space to think of frivolous things like love. 

Still. It’s not to say he doesn’t wish for it. At his innermost, Goro knows something was scooped out long ago which gapes and bleeds, longing to find a way to knit itself back together. He just doesn’t imagine it’s possible, that someone could ever find a way to withstand his edges. And he doesn’t want to pin his hopes on tarot readings. 

“Well, that’s the cards. The next part is all yours,” she says, and pushes the bowl, vial and paper to him. 

“Put the liquid in the bowl, then tear the paper in half. One will dissolve, one will stay. The one which stays when you take it out, will bear a message for you. Only you will ever be able to read it. It’s normally given to children on their tenth birthday,” she adds, and Goro sighs but does as bid. 

Strangely, it does work. The two pieces of paper flutter to the water, and the rightmost one immediately begins to dissolve. Once it’s vanished, he carefully picks up the remaining one, starting a little that as soon as it touches the air, it becomes tough, almost as if covered in glass. And before his eyes, a curversive script in dark red blooms.

As it does, he feels his heartbeat stop, for just a second, sound muffled, the words taking up all of time as his fate slips into place. 

“I hope the words guide you, along with the cards,” Chihaya says, although she sounds as if from another world with how distance and lost they float through. For stark and bloody before him are the words: 

You will kill your first love.

The Two of Cups no longer seems so wonderful. 

Time moves, and Goro tries not to think of the reading. Fate, he thinks, is a twisted thing. Only the rich enough are blessed with it’s guidance, and to him at least, fate cannot be set in stone. That would make every decision pointless, the guilty always doomed to downfall, and no point in a system of rehabilitation. That is not justice, and Goro does not believe in it. 

He’s also not going to kill his first love. That he is sure of. 

So he puts it out of his mind, which is easier when a few weeks later, the news is full of the escaped murderer being caught, on a trail leading through their city sewer systems. Goro prides himself in being the reason for that, not that he is given any credit. The legal system though has its own red tape, so as the evidence and trial slowly pushes forward, Goro continues in his way, doing what he does to keep his corner of the world as fair as can be.

He has to say though, he is not expecting the call from Detective Niijima, almost a year later. 

“You were instrumental in the case. Without your tip, we wouldn’t have thought to check the sewers,” she says. 

No, but you would have arrested half the town on invented crimes , he thinks to himself, but does not say. 

“It’s not a problem, simply doing my duty to help justice prevail,” he says, staring daggers at the wall of his small room while his voice stays airy. 

“Still, my superiors are impressed, as am I. We’ve been collecting the evidence over time, and that man will be sentenced heavily. I had to inform them how we knew about the sewage system, so of course your name came up. They would like to meet you,” she says. 

Goro stills. “Meet me?” he asks, curiosity winning out. 

She laughs, and through the line at least it seems genuine. “It’s rare to find someone your age with such talent. The head of the city council would like to speak to you as well,” she says, and something in her tone tells him there is probably little choice in the matter. 

He’s never been to the city before. 

At first the lights and size is simply too much for his mind to comprehend. Everything is new and structured, not held together with community grit and prayer. People walk everywhere, have public transport which is clean and reliable, and on each corner there’s food for sale, so many things he’s never heard of. 

It’s not that far from where he’s grown up, but it could be an entirely different planet. He has to crane his neck to see the top of buildings, the noise of traffic, music from shops and advertisements almost causing him to cover his ears. It’s just so much in all sense. 

They have so much here. In a place claimed and aligned to a city council with high magic, governed and controlled to some specification he is not privy to due to being an outsider. They have everything, and he grew up with nothing on their doorstep. It’s sickening. 

Goro stomachs his way through a series of meetings with various officials, who praise him in a way usually reserved for small children, all amazed and applauding him for being only eighteen. Sae is the only person to truly give him any time of day, actually explaining the process of the evidence bank they brought against the perpetrator, not mincing her words or dumbing anything down. It’s fascinating really, and he’s sorry when she takes him to his final meeting with the head of the city council. 

They drive there, Sae using a force car, and Goro continues to stare out at the flurry of activity. It’s as the car turns towards the town council building that a huge screen on a sky scraper suddenly changes from the news. Goro’s breath hitches at the change, as a crimson background fills the screen, with black and white mixed letters blaring ‘We’ll steal your heart!’ appear. 

“Them again. Well, I wonder where they hit,” Sae mutters. 

“Them?” Goro asks, eyes trained on the screen as they drive by. 

“The Phantom Thieves. They don’t operate here, but in surrounding areas they’re pretty busy. Not our problem,” she adds, and the words vanish as they drive past. 

She walks him into the building, saying goodbye at reception. 

“I hope we see each other again. You’d make a good detective,” she says, and he laughs. 

“It is intriguing, and thank you for showing me the ropes. Goodbye, Nijima-san,” he says, bowing. 

He’s sent to wait outside the office in the city council, a large, historical building that’s bigger than any place in his hometown. People pass him by with no mind, all busy and caught up in their own lives. He watches them race and panic through, a strange tightness brewing in his chest simply from observation. There’s so much tension here, it almost makes his shoulders ache. 

“Goro Akechi. You can go in now.” 

He nods in thanks to the receptionist, then walks through the double doors and into a sizable office. It is the cliche image of success if Goro has ever seen it; wide windows observing the city, various certifications hanging on the walls. The man turns as the door clicks shut, wearing an expensive looking suit, square framed glasses framing sharp eyes. 

And all around him is a void. 

Goro’s never felt anything like that before. The essence of others has always twinged either to whether they’re deceptive or not, but this man reeks of injustice. Everything about him is a lie, and Goro’s fingers twitch with a need to grab something and run. But he can’t, so he simply bows low. 

“Thank you for seeing me, Masayoshi Shido,” he says, proud nothing in his voice quivers. 

“Ah yes, Goro Akechi. You were hard to track down, but eventually I found you,” he says, walking away from the window and rounding the desk. 

“Found me?” he says, unsure and growing ever more concerned as Shido smiles at him. 

“Yes. And already disrupting my well laid plans,” he says, and then leaning back on the desk, flicks his hand in Goro’s direction. 

His throat constricts. Goro chokes as he suddenly cannot breathe, mouth opening and closing, hands coming up to his throat, absurdly trying to find some invisible tightening torque, scrapping at his flesh in panic. His vision dulls for a moment, and his throat convulses, before suddenly the air rushes back and he’s left gasping. 

He thinks his legs should give way but he doesn’t move, can’t move he realises, other than simply to pant for air, throat and chest raw and aching as Shido continues to stare at him. 

“Disappointing. No power, or anything worth developing. Perhaps some perception gift, you are smart at least. But your mother was exceptional, and you hold none of our talents. A shame I didn’t find you when I did her,” he says, pushing off the desk and moving closer. 

“Found her,” Goro says, voice a razor edge of hatred he didn’t know could exist so quickly at the implication. 

Shido laughs softly. “It was her own fault for leaving, she knew what would happen. Such a waste of a gift, and none in you. And yet still you managed to get in my way,” he says, and Goro hears the tension in his voice, and cannot help but smile a little as it clicks into place. 

“You needed an excuse to raid the town,” he says and Shido nods. 

“I did, and thanks to my...son, those efforts were thwarted,” he says. 

“I’m not your son,” he hisses, a childish retort and Shido’s eyebrow twitches. 

“An association I also do not want, but blood is blood. And does make this easier,” he says. 

Goro watches as Shido pulls a long black feather from nowhere, and then impossibly, plunges it into his chest. 

He screams. The feather slips in, seeping hurt with each brush, burning and cauterising as it slides inside, pain radiating outwards to every part of him. His agony is violently loud, and Shido smiles as if enjoying how much this is destroying him, and Goro feels that hatred swell and crest despite the fact he is utterly helpless. 

“You will never devise to work against me. If you do again, this will pierce your heart,” he says, slow and careful, dragging out every syllable. But as soon as the sentence is closed, the pain stops, and all the magic released. Goro finds himself sprawled on the ground, clutching at his vaguely aching chest. 

“Since you like playing detective so much, I’ll have you on the force. But working for me of course, you heard what happens if you try to cross me,” Shido says, as Goro stumbles to his feet. 

“You can’t force me to do anything,” he hisses and Shido sighs. 

“I can, and I did. Would you like to test the curse?” he says. 

Goro grits his teeth, reality sinking in, sudden and deep. Death or obedience, he has no choice. Shido seems to see it hit, for he smiles and takes a seat. 

“There’ll be a car outside. You can collect your belongings and return tomorrow, I’ll have an apartment set up. Best to keep an eye on you. Now get out of my sight,” he says. 

Numbly, Goro does so, storming out of the room and the hideous building, into the street and inhaling deeply. He clutches his hand to his chest, although there is nothing there to feel. Across the street, a screen lights up with that same message from before: 'steal your heart' beaconing even him from this distance. 

“I wish you would,” he whispers, a moment of weakness lost on the wind, at these Phantom Thieves, whatever they may be. 

That would be better after all. To take his heart, one pierced with a crow’s feather that could kill him, or the one that will kill the first person he loves. Death or murder, neither choice is one he wants to make. He’d be better off without a heart at all. 

A car pulls up, and Goro stares at the door for a moment, wondering. Then he steps forward, and opens the door, sliding inside and accepting his fate. 

Chapter Text

“Akechi, you’ve managed to keep this city safe once again. How does it feel to be a beacon of hope?” 

Goro’s smile hurts, and he wants to rip the microphone from the man's hands, the sting of the lights aching his tired eyes.

“While that’s flattering, all I’m doing is my job. We caught the criminal in the act, and people can sleep easy now. That’s all I care about,” he says. 

A few people audibly coo in the audience and he swallows. The weight of the makeup dries out his skin, and the lights once again feel like too much. This interview is exactly the same as the one prior, and the one last week. There’s nothing to be gained from answering such vapid questions. 

“You really are too modest, Akechi. Can I ask one final question?” the interviewer says, and the time up signal is more welcome than ever. 

“Certainly,” he says, the interest in his voice real this time with the prospect of finality.

“What do you think of the Phantom Thieves?” 

Well that is unexpected, and for a moment, Goro is stunned, mind whirring to the times he’s stared at those messages over the past year, how his chest lifts just slightly when he sees evidence of their proclamations, always bold and loud. 

“Well, I can’t comment much. They don’t operate in this city, so I’m afraid they’re out of my jurisdiction. I have too much work to be doing, but I know my colleagues in other places are doing all they can to investigate,” he says. 

It looks as if the interviewer wants to press, but thankfully a signal from the showrunner states that time is up. It’s the usual wrap of pleasantries and then Goro is free, or as free as he’ll ever be in this cage he prowls day by day. 

Working with a leash is hideous. There’s only so much he can do, and every second of his day he’s watched. He knows this with the regularity in which Shido contacts him, comments on his activities and work. A stark reminder he is trapped and baited, nothing he can do but obey. 

It’s a mockery of the Justice card which apparently hangs over his life. There is only one kind of justice here, the one dictated from above, Shido’s own brand of give and take, which Goro delivers without complaint. At least, not in person. Inside, he rages and screams, finds himself taking out his energy by working too long and late, cycling for miles on end and climbing until his fingers ache. 

Anything to stop him from retaliating. That is a death sentence, the feather in his heart able to activate at any moment, should the spell be true. And that he doesn’t doubt. For the first few months, he could barely sleep in fear he’d not awaken, that Shido would steal his life like he’d stolen his breath before. 

But he didn’t, and Goro grew to know that it is much easier for him to control the workings of the system, and keep his previous sins quiet, with him alive. Here, he can dictate who goes free and who serves time for certain crimes. Not everything Goro does is hindered by Shido’s ideals, and he is at times actually able to do some real work. He is, by all accounts, good at what he does, successful as a detective. But all of it comes back to Shido, no matter how hard he tries to distance himself. 

“You really should take some time off,” Sae says as he returns to the office after the interview. 

“So should you,” he replies and she glares, which causes him to smile. Despite his initial hesitancy, that cloud of doubt around her has cleared somewhat. He thinks that’s partly to do with the city; all decisions made here are part of some corrupted plan, no matter what choice they make. Much like the fate readings, there is little one person can do to make a difference here. 

“At least go home for the day, there’s nothing else to tie up here. And if you don’t take leave soon, you’ll be forced to. Company policy,” she says, and he rolls his eyes but gives in to the first request, shutting down his computer and waving goodbye. 

A break would be nice, he thinks as he arrives home, his apartment no more than a few stops on the train, but equally, what would he do? The starkness of his apartment greets him, and he grimaces, thinking what a week to sit here, alone would feel like. This place is simply where he sleeps, it’s not a home as most would define it. 

Even if he did wish to travel, he’s almost certain Shido wouldn’t allow it. Over the past year, he’s spent as much time as he can learning about the curse he’s under. It’s not an easy task, trying to do so around Shido’s influence, but it seems similar spells are affected by distance. That also would account for Shido only being able to target his mother after he found her, assuming that was what occurred. How far this extends to, Goro isn’t sure yet. Perhaps he could leave the city, but probably not travel across the world. 

It’s almost not worth contemplating, but if Sae is going to force him to take leave, he probably should try and do something, other than sleep for a whole day. With a sigh, Goro clicks on the TV, the sound filling the silence as he goes to the fridge, searching for something to put in the microwave for dinner. 

“Many speculate that the Phantom Thieves will soon move to the capital city, although so far, there’s been no sign of their presence, just the messages. But online, people have been begging for their appearance…”

Goro moves back onto the room, caught by the sounds. The report flashes up messages on something called the ‘Phan-site’ a place where one can apparently request the help of these mysterious thieves who steal hearts. 

The microwave pings and Goro retrieves his meal before settling back to watch the programme, where they’ve moved on to interviewing those who requested aid  and received it. Goro is sceptical of this, but also can’t stop watching, for despite the myriad of claims, there is something genuine about the Phantom Thieves. 

He’s looked into them, unable to forget about them since first seeing the message on the same night his own heart was cursed for the second time. That idle wish to see if they could fulfil such a claim has dimmed, but upon finding out more, he can’t say he isn’t intrigued. 

They seem to be their own brand of justice, much as he once was in his hometown. They operate in areas not aligned to Shido’s magic, and all of it is power based. They’ve been credited with the mundane to the almost impossible: finding lost animals, scaring off stalkers, and destroying a mafia ring. And of course, the magical elements; exorcising haunted residences, removing curses and changing hearts. 

The last two are the most interesting to him. This heart stealing is apparently to do with changing emotions, and a cursed painting was restored to its normal state after nearly a decade. Although they aren’t the same as what’s occurred with him, he wonders if it’s possible to take the feather from his heart. 

Then, he could destroy Shido. 

It’s all he thinks about some days. Stewing in vengeance, his dreams sometimes focused only on choking the life out of that man, just in the same way he’d done to him. But while under his control, there’s little he can do. Even so, he’s been compiling his own evidence against him, as secretly as he can. Shido may even know; how much he watches and what he watches are still up for debate, but Goro knows he believes he is untouchable. Or at least, while Goro is cursed, he is. 

It won’t be forever. Goro will make sure of that. And at least this focus on demise and work means there’s almost zero chance of his first fate coming into play. Goro doesn’t even have friends, let alone a chance at finding romance, of all things. The notion seems laughable now, he cannot imagine a time where he can feel anything other than consumed in disgust and contempt, with the small fleeting euphoria of true justice served when it happens. 

He’s brought from his thoughts by his phone ringing, abandons his dinner and freezes at the name which flashes. Inhaling, wondering strangely if Shido can actually read minds, not that such power has even been proven, he answers. 

“Good evening,” he says, making sure the mockery drips with every too sweet sounding syllable. 

“You’re off the Yamamoto case, I’m handing it over to a different department.” 

Goro sits straighter, leaning forward. “I can’t, he’s going to trial on Tuesday, all of the evidence-”

“Is now none of your concern. I have better uses for his skills, you’re done with this case,” Shido says, then the lines goes silent. 

Goro brings his phone down slowly, hand clenching it until pain streaks through. The man had threatened and falsely duped people out of incredible sums of money. He belonged behind bars, but once again, corruption breeds corruption. Goro drops the phone and tips forward, dropping his head forward, not sure if he wants to scream or laugh until his head splits at the seams. 

“The Phantom Thieves saved me. I wouldn’t have a home without them. And all I did was send a message. They’re truly heroes.”

Goro looks up at the young woman on the screen, stares at the camera enraptured in whatever vision she has of these mysterious individuals. 

“Heroes. No such thing,” Goro mutters back at her as she smiles, bright and happy, standing outside her apartment block in a place he doesn’t recognize, an emotion he doesn’t understand blooming from her. 

It makes him angry, and before he’s even acknowledged it, he’s pulled up the site on his phone. He scoffs at the chaotic branding, exactly as bold and garish as the public signs. He scrolls through comments and debates until he finds the ‘requests’ section. 

“Just a message,” he mutters, clicking and let’s his fingers type without much thought to begin with, then erases it and starts again. It takes longer than he would have liked, his frantic attitude becoming more considerate. 

This is a ridiculous idea. But his mental faculties are slipping away; day by day he’s burning to the quick, unable to fight back against a foe so insidious and manipulative that there is no way to cut through his web, no matter which sharp instrument he chooses. 

The worst, and most likely eventuality, is this message gets ignored and Goro wakes up to another day of the same, over and over until something shifts. So with that in mind, he surveys the message: 

I request the aid of the Phantom Thieves to steal my cursed heart. If you can do as your messages proclaims, this should be an easy feat. For the good of myself and another, I present you this challenge, if you think you can manage it. 

He sends it, wondering for a second if he should have posed it as a challenge more than an ask, but honestly, he doesn’t think they can actually do it. There’s a lot of magic in this world, Goro can attest to that. But if hearts could truly be stolen, it would have happened by now. 

Sae is about as happy with the news as Goro is, once she’s informed by her superiors that their case will not go to trial. She’s fuming so badly Goro eventually decides he’s better going out for coffee, their combined irate moods causing too much friction in the office. 

He’s just about set up in a café across the street, coffee placed before him and laptop connected when his phone chimes. He almost doesn’t check it, doesn’t think his composure can take any more of Shido’s news, but when he looks over, he catches sight of an unknown number on his phone before the screen goes dark. 

When he unlocks his phone, he almost drops it as the text appears. 

A detective asking us to steal his heart? That’s unexpected. If you are serious, then you’ll need to meet us in person.

Goro stares at the message, before quickly tapping into the network in order to trace the number. Predictably, there is nothing, not even a sense that this number may have been used before. He looks around, as if to check no one else can see, while he responds. 

So you know who I am. How can I be sure this isn’t a set up?

The response is almost immediate. 

We have no reason to set you up. But, you’ll only know if you come. Didn’t you say you wanted a challenge?

Goro actually laughs softly at that, he had walked into it with the previous message. But he should be on his guard; they know him from just a contact, and he has no clue who they might be. He is rarely at such a disadvantage, but in this, his hands are tied. 

He replies in agreement, and simply receives an address and a time next Wednesday. Of course, it is out of the city, in the nearest town to the south, which Goro will now have to investigate fully. 

It also means he has to request leave, which he does when he returns to the office. Sae looks surprised but pleased, her whole mood seeming calmer in his absence. 

“It seems like you took my advice. A good time too, I think,” she says as she signs his paperwork. 

“I think so. A chance to leave the city,” he says. 

Sae is actually a helpful resource when he mentions where he’ll be travelling to, as her younger sister is at university just outside the town. Her recommendations ensure he books a hotel and a car, but other than that, he leaves his plans free. He plans to arrive the night before the meeting with the Thieves, and to stay two days longer. Just in case. 

As his work is suddenly quiet, he spends the remaining days researching what he can about the Phantom Thieves and their meeting place. The address turns out to be an old art gallery, a small place that has been closed for two years, since the owner was revealed to be stealing work from his students. 

Goro looks into the incident, and immediately sees it to be similar to the mafia case. It seems the Thieves have particular places they haunt, or locations that have some meaning. Who they are though, is still a mystery, even though it seems they’ve been operating for a few years. The ‘steal your heart’ rhetoric only seems to have been widespread in the last year, oddly just after Goro arrived, meaning they gained traction, or spread their focus. 

Although the number of Thieves seems to be up for debate, three seems to be the minimum, while seven is the maximum. All other information seems speculative, although one name floats up more than once: Joker, the supposed leader of the group. 

Goro finds a strange anticipation growing when he gets ready for his trip. He actually has to buy a suitcase for it, having never needed to travel before, and it’s possibly a pathetic amount of glee which he gains from the purchase. 

Of course, Shido attempts to ruin the mood by calling before his departure. 

“I hear you’re going out of town,” he says, as Goro packs the last of his things, smoothing out the sweater packed at the top of his suitcase. 

“Yes, leave is apparently mandatory. I thought it would seem odd if I didn’t try and get out of the city,” he says, casual as he can. 

“I don’t care about your little holiday. You have a job to do, and a promise to keep. As long as you do that, I have no interest in the rest of your life. When you return, I have a job for you. The files will be on your desk,” he says, and ends the call. 

He hates how the ‘no interest in your life’ rings around his head. Goro still isn’t even sure Shido is actually his father, as his mother had been extremely closed lipped about such subjects. But there would be no other reason why Shido would go to such lengths if he didn’t have such a reason. Still, the pure dislike and disinterest cuts deep.

It doesn't really matter; Shido will pay for what he’s done, and Goro will see to that. Somehow. If he can just remove this curse, then he’ll be able to step up and reveal to the world exactly what Shido is like. 

Driving out of the city is freeing, almost as if he can feel Shido’s power drain away as he drives towards his destination. Most towns are aligned to a group of individuals, an actual council rather than Shido’s puppetry. Plus Goro can tell that some of his influence is reaching into the towns to the West, absorbing them slowly into his domain. Magic rules, and Shido’s power is terrifying, but no one is invincible. Goro has to believe that, or there is no point in trying. 

The town is different from what he’s used to. Quieter, people stare a little in the more suburban area he first drives through, but as he moves towards the centre, it becomes more lively. The town is known mainly for the university which Sae’s sister attends, and it is smaller than he imagined. He notices that there are a fair few shops and buildings abandoned, for sale signs up. It seems the place is either on the up or down, and he’s unsure which. 

The hotel is comfortable, though, and Goro is asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. He wakes up late, and spends the day trying to read and relax, but all he can think of is the meeting later. It’s a type of nervous energy, unsure of exactly what he might be facing, elated but suspicious. 

He sets up a few safeguards; he cannot imagine this meeting will take more than two hours, so in the event he does not turn it off, an alert will be sent to Sae with the location of the meeting point, and the conversation with the Phantom Thieves. Not fool proof, but hopefully enough in a true emergency. 

He arrives at the old gallery slightly early. There’d been no further instruction, and the street is otherwise deserted. He’d hoped there’d be some kind of indication so he didn’t have to hang around in an unfamiliar place of...dubious conditions. 

His phone buzzes in the pocket of his trench coat, and he takes it out to see the message go inside from the same unknown number. Goro sighs, looking up at the abandoned building. It looks fairly safe, at least not  going to collapse on him, but this theatre is starting to get more frustrating than useful. 

But he came all the way here, so Goro marches to the door, unsurprised when the handle turns under his attention. The room is dimly lit, lamps stowed at the other end, wood creaking under his feet as he steps inside. The door clicks shut and he immediately feels trapped, but pushes through anyway. He’s comfortable enough he can handle himself, should there be any issue. 

The Phantom Thieves have never killed anyone. Dealt with some unsavoury, even dangerous characters, and achieved some impossible feats. But their body count is zero. Even if this goes array, Goro cannot see himself being in any real danger. 

“Welcome! We’re through here, please come this way,” says a surprisingly kind voice from the opposite end of the room, and a person steps from the shadows. 

She stands before the lamps, dressed in a rather strange, almost costume-like attire, and a highwayman comes to mind as Goro steps forward, able to see her clearer. She smiles, mask moving slightly, and gestures to him. 

“Just through here. Oh, we won’t hurt you, we just want to talk,” she says and Goro gives her a searching look. She can’t be much older than he, and he can sense no ill intent, or even a lie about her. The niceness is real. It immediately puts him on edge. 

“Isn’t that what someone would say if they were wanting to lull someone into a false sense of security?” he says. 

“Ah well...I suppose. But that really is not our intention. I’m Noir, pleased to meet you Akechi,” she says, if she genuinely is. 

“Likewise...Noir,” he says, and just as he steps up to meet her, she stands in his way. 

Her eyes behind the mask seem to flash red, just once, and he feels the room pressurize then release. It all happens so swifty, and she’s turning on her heel, ushering him into the room beyond, that Goro isn’t sure what she did or how. But whatever it is, he is immediately on guard. She’s...rather terrifying. 

As soon as he steps into the room, his ears block and his head rings for a moment, and as soon as the world rights his hand dives to his pocket, pulling out his phone. As expected, it’s dead. 

“Do you really think we’d let you record this?” 

He looks up to see another woman before him, arms crossed and clear suspicion in her voice as she glares through a metal mask. 

“Not my intention, and while I do understand your need for caution, what about my assurance of safety?” he asks, and she glares harder. 

“As if you haven’t already set up your own precautions,” she replies and he smiles back, something about her attitude extremely annoying. 

A soft laugh echoes, and the woman straightens, before looking behind. Goro cranes his neck but can’t quite see the voice. 

“I think we can let the detective speak, Queen. It’s no fun without a bit of danger,” says the voice, deeply rumbling across the room. 

The tone causes Goro to pause, something about the laughter drawn in every syllable, mocking or actual humour he isn’t sure. Queen sighs heavily, and walks forward, allowing him to see the rest of the space. It must have been a studio at some point, canvases still stacked, paintings filed away and even one or two covered as if ready to display. Goro wonders if this place is actually in use, but doesn’t have time to think further when faced with the man at the desk. 

Well, not truly at the desk, but sitting on it. Goro’s not sure how to approach that, the casualness of the actions off putting. He plasters a smile on his face and follows Queen though until he is just before the man. 

This most certainly is Joker; the white mask and grin radiating an aura of control over the room, as if he knows exactly what will happen, how this will go. It bothers Goro, again that sense that he’s missing something. He is so used to being the person one step ahead, and this entire experience is leaving him in the dark in a way he’s not used to. 

But the only way to gain the upper hand is to learn more. So, he steels himself against these frustrations enough to greet their leader. 

“You must Joker. Your reputation precedes you,” he says, using the same voice he does to greet TV executives and to his surprise, that grin turns sharp. 

“And you are the ace detective from the capital who asked us to steal his heart,” he replies, with what is most certainly a hint of mockery. 

Goro coughs, exceptionally aware of the way his whole body heats with sudden embarrassment. The wording of the statement now seems childish when faced with those who read it, but he can’t change the past. 

“Is that not what you do? Forgive me, you don’t seem to act in the city,” he says, wondering if they’ll take the bait. 

Joker pushes himself off the desk, standing fully. He’s slightly shorter than Goro, but it’s hard to truly tell in the long dark coat, which seems to give him more presence. It looks oddly fitting, despite its absurdity. 

“It’s more of a threat than a service. I can’t say I’ve had many cute guys asking me to steal their heart,” he says.

Queen coughs and Noir laughs quietly into her hand. Goro opens his mouth and no sound comes out, completely stunned. 

“Joker, please,” Queen mutters and Joker shakes his head. 

“Really, people don’t normally ask us to steal their hearts.  But I suppose there’s maybe something we can help with. If you truly are cursed,” he says. 

“He is,” Noir says, and Goro turns to stare at her. She smiles again, his instincts confirming that she’s one to be wary of. 

“And it’s by the same person,” she adds. 

At that, Joker turns to his companion. “You’re sure?” he says, voice taking on a slightly heightened edge, as Queen looks back at him, her whole presence changing. 

“Absolutely. I know Shido’s curse mark by now,” she adds, and Goro steps backwards without thought. 

Joker though, turns back to him, gesturing with one hand to the side. 

“Calm down, I know what you’re thinking. We didn’t set you up. In fact, this is almost too good,” he says, peering at Goro for a second. 

Goro stares back. But, like his companions, Goro can’t get a read on him. They must either be fully just in their resolve, or simply able to shield themselves from him. Not that he knows if this is possible, these limited powers are hardly things to explore, but if Shido can’t hide his true nature, Goro is not sure anyone can. 

“Perhaps it’s fate,” Joker mutters, so soft that Goro isn’t sure he even heard correctly, but then takes another step forward. 

“We are in the business of stealing hearts. And if Shido has cursed you then, perhaps we can find a way to help each other,” he says, coming closer, that smile softer yet bright in the same instant. 

“I wasn’t aware this was a business transaction,” Goro says, keeping himself rigid. 

Up close, he can see a slight tint of red to Joker’s eyes, a radiation of the same kind of power Noir and Queen possess. Goro doesn’t think he’s doing it deliberately, but it flows in waves; Goro can feel it beat at his head, and he knows that he’s facing someone special. 

Something that Goro will never be. 

It smarts a little, the fact that he needs this level of help, that he can’t simply enact his revenge and burn Shido screaming to the ground. But before him is a person who could even the playing field, set Goro free enough to aid him in his quest. 

“Can’t do something for nothing, but you know that, detective. I can steal your heart, if you help me get into the city,” he says. 

Goro blinks. “That’s it? You want me to get you...you’re banished,” he says, exhaling as it fits into place. 

“Through no fault of my own,” Joker adds. 

Goro laughs. “Banishment is a powerful spell, you must have done something to get that brand,” he says. 

The tension which fills the room is curious, and Joker’s bravado pauses for a second. Noir shifts, looks as if she’s about to take a step forward, when Joker’s gaze meets his own. There’s something there that Goro cannot identify, but knows, intrinsically, as if it's part of him too, flashing between them as their own bond. He swallows hard, thar hot flush pouring through again. 

“If you know Shido, then you can imagine that what I did wasn’t deserving,” he says, quiet and almost for Goro alone. 

Goro’s hands shake in his gloves. He thinks about that office, that moment when the feather knife pierced his chest. He can’t be the only one, and it seems he isn’t. This person before him has a hefty price on his head too. 

Maybe Joker can understand him. But really, does it matter? If he’s able to remove the curse then Goro is free to exact his revenge, and free from whatever fate his apparent first love would fall to. Understanding is not part of that, but maybe feigning it will help keep Joker on his side. 

“I can’t remove a banishment. It’s a powerful spell,” he says instead. 

“You don’t need to. You just need to give me permission to enter the city. You’re part of the police force, you can gain a charm which will nullify any effects,” he says. 

Goro thinks on this. He’s never had to use this before, and doesn’t know if he can request something like that without suspicion. But, if anyone can do it, it’s him and he’s sure he’ll be able to work out how. 

“And what will you do, once you have the ability to enter the city?” he asks. 

“That’s not your concern,” Queen snaps and Goro glares at her. 

“It is if I’m procuring the means by which you get in, which could be traced right back to me. I’m not taking the fall for any plans you may have,” he states, and she bristles, but Joker steps over, blocking his view of her. 

“It is a big ask, I’m aware of that. But so is removing the curse put on you by the most powerful man in the country. Do you know why curses are so revolting to most people? They’re almost impossible to remove, there’s a high chance you’ll die, we’ll die and we’ll take out the town in the process. Especially if it’s by Shido,” he says, matter-of-fact, and making Goro clench his teeth. 

In truth, he didn’t know that. But it makes sense, Shido is nothing if not thorough when it comes to protecting himself. 

“I can guarantee though, that we’ll make sure it’s not traced back to you. I promise. But if you are willing, we can make a deal. Your heart for entrance to the city. Seems pretty fair,” he says, giving Goro that winning smile, which is enticing in itself, much to his chagrin. 

He doesn’t though, give an answer. He lets his thoughts swirl for a moment, weighs out if the scales do truly balance on this deal. The answer comes to him, and he shakes his head. 

“I can’t accept without knowing what it is you’ll do, or what you do in general, actually. I’m sorry. The risk to myself is too great. But thank you for your time,” he says. 

He turns, unsure if they’ll simply let him leave, and is unsurprised when his wrist is grabbed. Even so, he is surprised by the softness of it, a hold he could tear out of, just an ask to stay. 

“What if I could show you what we do?” 

Goro spins slowly, meeting Joker’s eyes through the mask. There’s a sense of delight in that expression, which Goro is not expecting. He’s also not expecting the instant rush and want; to know exactly how this mysterious group operates, who no one has been able to catch. 

“Show me?” he asks, and Joker nods once. 

“We have a mission tomorrow evening. Let’s call it a trial run for our deal. It will convince you that what we do in the city is important, and you can convince us you’re trustworthy enough to risk breaking this curse,” he says. 

“Um, Joker is that really a good plan?” Noir says quietly. 

“It’s a terrible plan,” Queen adds, but Goro cannot help but grin. 

“You truly believe you can convince me?” he says, unable to keep the doubt from his voice. 

“Absolutely,” Joker says, no hint of concern, as Queen mutters darkly in the corner. 

Goro really does find the confident air both off putting and enticing. He wants to prove this person wrong, this man he’s just met, wants to see him have to eat his words and yet...if he could truly do as he says, it would be to Goro’s benefit, he can’t deny it. It simply makes his skin itch to see someone so sure they will win, when he has spent his whole life so far just about staying afloat. 

“Alright then. Prove yourself,” he says. 

Joker smiles, and Goro has the distinct feeling he’s been caught. And oddly, he’s almost happy about that. 

Chapter Text

Goro doesn’t know what to do with himself the next day, but somehow he keeps occupied. He’s not used to free time, and after the initial irritation that he has to wait until the evening to go on this ‘mission,’ he finds himself actually revelling in a day without responsibility. 

Perhaps it’s because he simply can’t do anything; his hotel connection won’t be secure so he’s unwilling to try and work, plus part of him wonders if his phone is being tracked by the Thieves, even if everything has been in working order since he left the old art gallery. 

He picks up a weathered and particularly terrible looking mystery novel from a used bookstore, and settles down in a café to read it. Despite the ridiculousness of the story, the whole experience is pleasant, and he ends up buying the second in the series on his way back past the store. 

As he relaxes, he considers what occurred the night before. In the daylight, he is a little bit perturbed at how easily the Phantom Thieves’ leader could entrap him, drag him along into his wake, just as Goro supposes, he did with the others. 

His presence is intriguing, and something about the bravado makes Goro want to prove him wrong, and it’s a strange sensation to receive from a person he’s just met. But there’s no doubt they could be useful, and a bargain between them, should the Thieves actually manage to convince Goro this evening, could be fruitful. 

At this point, Goro knows he will do almost anything to destroy Shido. This isn’t the most desperate course of action, but it has dangers in itself. If the Thieves can remove his curse, Goro will be so much closer to his goals, and closer to freedom. 

He knows that whatever their leader wants to do in the city, it must involve stealing a heart, or causing some sort of disruption. But does he really care about that? The answer is in all honesty, not really, especially seeing as no one has ever come to serious misfortune, that he’s aware of. His concern is that by allowing someone with banishment into the city, his own aims, even his life, will be compromised. By seeing how they operate, he’ll at least be able to judge if he thinks they’re good enough to pull it off. 

And well, he cannot deny he’s curious. 

This time, he meets them near the edge of town. Goro walks there, a little unsure once again if he’s in the right place. There’s not much here; most of the town proper finishing a few streets back, this end simply left for ruin. It reminds him of home once more, and another stab at his gut for Shido and the city’s selfishness, taking resources for their own greed while other areas are laid to ruin. 

A movement from the corner of his eye gives him pause, and there’s a faint rush of air before Joker is standing right before him smirking. 

“Good evening detective, you’re right on time.” 

Goro hates how he’s a little in awe of that. Hates how his heart rate picks up just slightly at the appearance. 

“Good evening, Joker. What a dramatic entrance,” he says through his teeth and Joker laughs. 

“Is there any other way to enter? We’re just through here,” he says, turning to the right and walking down an alley. 

Goro hesitates for just a moment before following, wondering if he really should go tailing this mysterious man he only met last night through an alley, but he has little choice. It turns out it’s only a small way, as he follows Joker out and in front of what once was an underground station. 

Outside there are four other figures, all of whom look up at their approach. He recognises Noir, who smiles at him, but the other three are new. A tall woman in red crosses her arms, eyes watching them with interest, and a man with a skull mask glares in their direction. 

“Hey, you really think this is a good idea?” he asks, looking at Goro as he speaks. 

“Oh don’t worry Skull, I’ll be here the whole time,” says the final figure, shorter than the rest, grinning widely behind a headset that looks as if it’s been plucked from a science fiction movie. 

Joker moves to his team and Goro follows behind, keeping a few paces away. 

“We head off as planned, any final questions?” he says, addressing them all. 

Goro sees Skull shoot him a glance over Joker’s shoulder, but shakes his head. Joker nods, then turns back to face Goro as the other three move off slowly. 

“Enjoy the show. Oracle here will make sure you get a good seat,” he says, gesturing to the red-head who grins, then jogs forward towards the chained up entrance to the underground station. 

Goro frowns. “What?” he asks, entirely confused. 

“Just stay with Oracle, and you’ll be fine. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon,” he says, and winks at Goro, whose mouth falls open in shock, but he doesn’t have time to process it before Oracle is calling to him. 

“Would you get over here? I don’t have time to deal with your flirting,” she yells from the door of the station which she’s somehow managed to open. 

“I was not flirting with him,” Goro mutters, and Oracle stares at him through her headset but says nothing at all. He feels judged despite it. 

He clambers through the half opened door, amazed she managed to unchain it, but the familiarity suggests that it may never have been truly chained at all. Goro grimaces as he trips over debris, and Oracle tuts as he gingerly moves forward, the light from outside not enough to give him any idea of where to stand. It doesn’t help when she moves forward and shuts the door, the whole place plunged into darkness. 

Goro’s heartbeat rockets, and a sudden knowledge that he’s absolutely messed up; going into a dark abandoned place with strangers, putting his trust in a shady group he doesn’t know, how could he be so stupid, he-

The whole room suddenly illuminates turquoise, his eyes stinging from the onslaught of brightness. Goro has to close them and blink the world into being, realisation slowly forming as Oracle stands in the middle of what looks to be a series of screens. Goro steps closer, dodging out of the way of the translucent creations, mindful that he could literally step through a screen and he isn’t sure what would occur then. 

“Now, you wanna see, so sit...right there. Don’t be shy, you can watch. But if you disturb me, I’ll kill you,” she says, flashing him a smile and pointing to what looks like a pile of rubble near the centre of her circle. 

Goro does what he’s bid, the usual need to snark back consumed by the awe of seeing what he can only assume is her power. It’s truly tremendous, as he settles himself, making sure his coat covers all of his sitting space so as to not get dirty anywhere. 

The screens as his mind refers to them, each show one of the Thieves. A series of numbers fly rapidly back and forth, and Goro can guess they’re probably vital signs or similar. Oracle seems to be completely hooked up into them, focusing on their dash through streets. 

“This is...your power?” Goro asks, wincing slightly at the stupid question. 

“Hehe, pretty neat huh? But I’ll tell you more later, if you wanna see them in action, they’re about to go in,” she says, pointing to Joker’s screen, where he’s poised in what looks like a window frame. 

“Breaking and entering, how noble,” Goro says, and Oracle huffs. 

“Sure, I guess, I mean the guy’s been stalking and threatening his girlfriend so much she’s terrified for her life, but let’s focus on that,” she says. 

“Did she not call the police?” Goro asks, knowing if such a case were to cross his desk he wouldn’t let it lie. 

“Guy has too many friends, she wouldn’t dare. Nope, she’s run out of options. That’s what we’re here for. Capturing the ones who slip through the net. Though from your record, you’d know a little about that,” she says, turning to meet his gaze through the googles. 

Goro says nothing, just stares her down until she turns back to the screens. 

“Okay, all good to go. Make sure you look cool Joker, you have an audience today,” she says with a laugh, and Goro sees that smile grow on the screen. 

He feels the blush rise, the thought of someone trying to impress him of all people. Pathetic , his mind whispers, and Goro mentally pulls himself together. He’s not that desperate for attention. 

The man in the house is clearly startled, looking up from his computer to stare at the four intruders. Goro braces himself, expecting the attack, but to his surprise, they start talking. Well, hardly nicely, but Noir steps in, laying out his crimes while the guy acts as if his girlfriend deserves it, the word ‘slut’ echoing in Goro’s ears. 

“Creep,” Oracle mutters, and Goro nods, enraptured to find out what happens next. 

Of course, words only work for so long, but Goro notices they wait until their target makes the first move. Clever, he thinks, as the man’s eyes flash blue and he sends out what looks like a wave towards the group. 

“Ouch, not good, Skull, getting hit first time,” Oracle mutters as Skulls falls to the floor clutching his head and shaking. Goro winces, and Oracle spares him a glance. 

“Some sort of physical attack, he should bounce back but in the-yes, go Panther!” she suddenly screams, and Goro jumps, eye flicking up to see the woman in red block the target’s escape path with a wall of fire. 

“Impressive,” he murmurs, once again in awe of the magic their people possess. He feels those tendrils of jealousy spin up as he watches Joker dodge another of those attacks, block a second with an invisible wall, then tap Skull on the shoulder, clearly healing whatever ailed him. 

So much power. If Goro had been blessed that way, he wouldn’t be in this mess. Instead, he has barely a flicker and a feather knife poised inside him ready to kill. Do they even know what they have? He thinks as Joker smiles, almost deliberately straight at them, seeming as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

Goro has to turn away for a moment, so caught up in his own spiralling that he misses the fight clearly reaching a pinch point, for once his mind is clearer, he looks up to see the target on their knees, and apologizing. 

“What?” Goro says, standing to his feet and walking towards the scene, Oracle letting him. 

“Changing hearts. Pretty cool, huh?” she says. 

“I don’t understand,” Goro says, feeling as if he’s completely missed a crucial part of the fight if only for a second. 

“Are you sure you don’t? A little bit of power, whether magical or otherwise, makes people think they can do what they want. We remind them they can’t,” she says, as the team start backing away. 

“That’s it? You really think that will work for everyone,” he says, scoffing a little. 

No conversation or show of power will stop Shido. Next to him, Oracle’s screens start vanishing, until there’s just one left. She turns to him, the glow backlighting her in an eerie manner, her tone suddenly serious. 

“No, not everyone. But the majority of people are just a little drunk on the small power they have when others steal everything else. So what we do is enough. Come on, they’ll be back in a minute,” she says, turning away. 

Goro mulls the words over, turning them piece by piece when Oracle spins back and grins. 

“Oh, and there’s a little bit of magic involved too. But I’ll let Joker explain that, if he thinks you’re worthy,” she says, then plunges them back into darkness with a manic grin. 

He scrambles forward, following Oracles laughter until she opens the door, allowing the streetlight to spill in. She clearly gains enjoyment from seeing him struggle and he glares at her in lieu of any response. 

She pulls out her phone and taps at it, and he wonders if she’s their source of information; all of them seem to know him, unsurprising seeing as this meeting must have been shared, but a few comments spring to him as they wait for the others to arrive. It doesn’t take long, strangely, Joker makes his way over to Goro immediately, grinning all the while. 

“Well? Have fun?” he asks, as if he’s just collecting Goro from some sort of activity.

“He seemed impressed, you can stop fishing for compliments,” Oracle says, elbowing him then yelping as Joker ruffles her hair. 

It’s affectionate, sweet even, if Goro’s thoughts can stretch that far, and the general jubilation between the team of a job well done leaves him feeling a sudden chill in the night air. As if sensing this, Joker declares he’ll see Goro closer to the town centre, and the others wave him off, vanishing in the night. 

“You really don’t have to, I did manage to get here all by myself,” Goro says as they fall in step. 

“What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you wander the streets alone at night?” Joker says grabbing his chest as if offended. 

Goro isn’t taken by the dramatics. Not at all, he reminds himself. He sighs heavily instead of composing a reply, and just lets his mind cogitate the happenings of the evening. 

“You’re leaving tomorrow, right?” Joker asks as he leads them down an alleyway. Goro blinks, the brighter lights on the populated part of town already blinking ahead. Joker really does know this place well, very much like Goro did in his own hometown. 

“Yes, that’s correct,” he replies, and Joker turns, backlit by the electric lights. 

“Then I need to know about our deal,” he says, the seriousness of his tone deepening his voice, the hairs on Goro’s neck standing up. 

“What will happen to tonight's target?” he asks, stepping forward, just to gain some ground. 

“Depends on him. Hopefully he repents. That’s what he truly wanted, when we left,” Joker says. 

“How can you tell what someone truly wants?” Goro asks, and Joker smiles his signature grin again. 

“Part of my power. I can help reveal the truth in people’s hearts. A little more complicated than that, but it will do for now,” he says. 

Which explains what Oracle meant by magical involvement. An odd power certainly, similar he supposes to his own tiny sparks that can on occasion sense deception. But he’s gained nothing from any of the Thieves, despite the fact they’re clearly lying just by existing in these forms. Goro’s power is weak, but Shido’s own vile heart had been clear as crystal. If the Thieves were of similar ilk, he’d know. 

And they’re strong. All of them. He assumes there is still another of their number he has not met, and each one so far has truly redefined his perception of power. They are his best chance, and Goro doesn’t have many options. 

“Fine. I’ll find a way to get you into the city, if you remove my curse,” he says. 

“It’s a deal,” Joker says, reaching out a red-gloved hand. 

Goro doesn’t hesitate, never does once his mind is made up. He grips Joker’s hand in return, momentarily paused by the surge of warmth which seems to hum through where their gloved hands meet, one that such simple touch should not warrant.

They don’t actually shake, Goro realises after a second, Joker simply clasping his hand, eyes boring into his. They are such an unusual colour, too light to be darkness, too dark to be blue, a constant in between which is familiar, like falling out of a dream to waking, and Goro’s hand is still consumed with warmth. 

The coldness once he’s released is a shock, but Goro steels himself, knowing that their handshake has gone on long enough. He puts his hand in his pocket though, trying to capture some of the warmth. 

“It may take some time to get you what you need without suspicion,” Goro says, and Joker nods. 

“I thought it would, don’t worry. It will take us some time to plan,” he says. 

Goro tilts his head curiously. “I assume you still won’t enlighten me into what you plan on doing in the city?” he tries. 

“Not just yet. But...maybe in future. We’ll see how this goes,” Joker says. 

Goro is a little taken aback, and Joker laughs. “Breaking a curse isn’t easy work, we’ll need to stay in touch. And if you so happen to want to know more, then maybe we can see to that,” he says. 

Goro isn’t sure what to make of that offer, isn’t sure he actually wants to be embroiled too deeply in their plans. 

“If you can’t enter the city, then how will we stay in touch?” he asks. 

“Aww, do you miss me already? Don’t worry, detective, I have a plan. Now, get home safe,” Joker says, moving past Goro with just a light touch to his shoulder, which blooms warmth in the same scalding way the handshake had. 

Goro moves forward a few steps, knowing their conversation is at an end. Once he’s almost out of the alley, he turns, but of course Joker is long gone. Nevertheless, Goro feels eyes on him the entire way back to the hotel, although he does not manage to catch a glimpse of his watcher. 

Going back to life before meeting the Thieves is odd. Goro acts the same as he did before, his old routine never changing and yet, it is suddenly not enough. Of course it makes sense; he’s had the first lead in years, he should be wanting to dive straight into it. But the ferocity with which he wants to be away from the city and seeing the Thieves in action is a shock. 

He wants to see the extent of their powers, catalogue and understand so he can see who he is putting his bet behind. Wants to learn about this supposed heart changing power of Joker’s, his mind already unsure if it’s usage is justified, of what Oracle can really see with those screens. 

A far cry from the person he was so long ago, not caught up in fate or magic. But needs change, and now his aims can only be met by that type of power. 

On a whim after his first mundane day back at the office, he shuffles his mother’s deck, a rare defiance he performs despite the feather. He shuffles the cards, closes his eyes and cuts the deck. Sure enough, once he opens them, Justice stares back. 

“It seems fate really is sealed,” he mutters to himself. 

The reading flares in his mind. It does marry up with his life so far. The dramatic turn followed by success. He is good at his job, known well and meets all the markers of a promising career that one usually attributes. 

The next, is the Two of Cups. 

Goro laughs quietly to himself, the sounds bouncing mockingly around his ever more empty apartment. He has no time for romance, and has never found a single person who even came close to pique his interest. No, this is where fate ends, not that he’s put much stock in this element of it before.

He moves onto quietly researching how one would get a banished person into the city. It turns out to not be that hard, there’s a general catch all token charm which can grant entrance for those who are banished along with several other magical effects, including curses, soulbound, and those belonging to a list of obscure magical creatures Goro didn’t even know were real until now. 

It makes it easier, the problem is receiving one of these won’t go unnoticed. Goro will need to come up with a reason to have one, which will need to be signed off by his superior, with the name of the person tied to the token. 

He takes down all the information anyway, wondering if there is a way round it or a way to mimic something similar that may be of help. A week after his trip, Goro is almost starting to think it was all in his head, though. The world has settled into drudgery, and there's no communication from Joker, assuming he was the initiator in the first place. Goro doesn’t dare email the inbox again for fear of looking desperate, but in some sense he is. 

“New caseload. And, I’m sorry,” Sae says on a Wednesday morning almost two weeks after his holiday. 

Goro looks up and frowns as she hands over the set of files, flicking through them. The first three are the usual type of cases, nothing of interest and all barely worth his attention. The second to last is one that may have more potential, an ongoing tax evasion case which has some serious ramifications, but Goro has a sneaking suspicion this may get pulled. The final one though-

“I hope you got a taste for that town. My sister does seem fond of it at least. I really did try and argue against you having to go there physically, but it seems the local police force were adamant on having someone there in person,” Sae says, genuinely apologetic. 

I have a plan . That tone echoes and Goro blinks down at his assignment, unsure whether to laugh or rip the paper in half at how frustratingly well Joker has managed this. 

“There’s no one else who can take it? Really, I’ll have to spend so much time communing,” Goro says, not having to fake the frustration is his tone, so used to expelling it at work. 

“At least they’ve offered to put you up there. So your weekly trip will be at least hopefully more fruitful. And no, I’m sorry. Really, I did say we couldn’t spare you for half a week, but...you know what it’s like,” Sae says, sitting down in her own chair with a sigh. 

Goro looks through the papers again, not really reading it, feigning his way through emotions he thinks he would have if this were not a part of a greater good. 

“Very well then,” he mutters, making a show of slamming the files down on his desk. 

Sae sighs, and pauses for a moment. “I’ll speak to Makoto. My sister, that is. I think it would be helpful to know someone in town. At least she can show you a few sights on your first week,” she says. 

Goro fixes a smile on his face, and laughs. “Oh no, that’s fine, I really don’t need someone to look after me,” he says. 

“It’s not a problem, plus it will help me know she's actually doing as well as she says. And wouldn’t it be good to actually spend time with someone your own age for once,” Sae says, pulling out her phone as she looks over him with a critical eye. 

“I’m not a child,” he says, a little ice in his tone at her meddling, but Sae gives him a look over her phone in pure doubt of his statement, and he resigns himself to an extremely awkward encounter. 

He is though, impressed and a little excited with the ease of his secondment. It seems the police in their town had requested aid from the city regarding a series of burglaries, compounded by a request from a former billionaire’s daughter. Clearly the fact her father is awaiting trial for breaking several types of contract and employment law doesn’t seem to bother Shido, for he’s signed off on Goro going. Whatever the reason, it works enough to get him spending three days each week in the vicinity of the Phantom Thieves starting next week. 

He keeps up a good act of seeming frustrated, or at least he thinks so. Sae gives his number to her sister Makoto, who agrees to meet him on Sunday morning. He’s staying in a small apartment this time, close to the station and a few stops away from where he’ll need to meet the local police tomorrow, so all in all, convenient. 

Makoto Nijima is and is not what he expects. She recognises him, as she pushes herself off the wall to greet him. 

“Goro Akechi? It’s nice to meet you,” she says, in a tone that strikes him as familiar, and oddly combative despite the slight smile on her face. 

“Yes, thank you for meeting me, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble,” he says, using his most pleasant voice to try and defuse some tension. 

Makoto shakes her head slowly. “It’s no trouble, I don’t mind. Do you drink coffee? A friend of mine works in a shop nearby that I thought of showing you,” she says, and Goro nods. 

“Lead the way,” he says, and she does, striding off with a confidence so very much like her sister it makes him smile. 

“Your sister mentioned your studying here?” he says, and she nods, smiling in a way he thinks is true. 

“Yes, the university is just outside town, sort of in a world of its own. But it’s easier living here. I’m studying law,” she adds, and Goro makes enough small talk which thankfully Makoto seems to be receptive enough despite the slightly cold demeanour. 

She leads him off the main roads to a quaint backstreets area locals milling around even in the early hour. Goro looks around with interest at the second hand shop they pass, noting how this feels oddly homey, a little stream of connection to the odds and ends shops he knew growing up. 

Makoto leads them to the left and stops under the shaded canopy of a café called ‘Leblanc,’ the interior dark despite the open sign displayed. Makoto spares him a quick glance over her shoulder before she opens the door. 

“We’re here, Akira,” he hears her call, and Goro follows slowly, a little stunned at her familiarity despite mentioning that her friend worked there. 

He understands upon entering, the café being utterly deserted apart from one barista, slowly pouring water over coffee, who Makoto strides up to on entering. Goro closes the door carefully as she sits at the bar, and makes his way over, taking a seat a little away from her. There’s a strangeness brewing in the air, heavy and waiting to break, Goro looking between the two. 

“Hi, what can I get you?” the barista says, dark unruly hair blocking his gaze as he focuses on the coffee before him. 

“Just a house blend, thank you,” Goro says, still uneasy. 

He slowly finishes his pour, placing the kettle down, then turns to face Goro. 

“Coming right up,” he says, and even through the glasses, Goro cannot mistake those eyes or that smirk. 

“Joker?” he says, honestly a little shocked that they’d arranged this so swiftly. 

Joker blinks, but his smile grows. “Wow, honestly surprised you recognised me, doesn’t usually happen,” he says. 

“Really? It was obvious once I saw your face,” he says. 

“And you say I’m the interesting one, really that’s a rare talent you have. Oh, and it’s Akira Kurusu,” he adds, and Goro nods, flushing a little. 

“Apologies Kurusu,” Goro says, as he turns to retrieve a cup. 

“Please call me Akira, we’re far past formalities now,” he calls, and Makoto next to him sighs heavily. 

He turns and looks at her, slightly frustrated at himself he didn’t notice sooner. 

“Queen,” he says, and she nods, relaxing a little. 

“That’s right. Haru, who you’ll meet on your job tomorrow, is Noir. We managed to pull this all together rather quickly, so I hope you’ll meet your end of the bargain,” she says. 

“Hey, he’s been here two minutes, let him breathe. Also don’t you have class?” Akira says, as he releases beans from a chosen container. 

Makoto stands, brushing herself off. “I do. I’ll be around later,” she says. 

“Thank you for meeting me,” Goro says. 

She seems startled at that, but nods. “You’re welcome,” she says, then waves to Akira before taking her leave. 

Goro turns back to Akira, who adds the beans to the grinder, essentially preventing conversation for the next few minutes as the smell of fresh coffee fills the air. He adds a little cream without asking to Goro’s slight annoyance, even if he would have preferred it that way, then slides it over. 

“Made special, just for you,” Akira says, a little of that Joker personality seeping through. 

Goro takes a sip. It’s good, extremely good actually, and he’s more than impressed. Not that he wants to tell Akira how much he enjoys it, feels as if the man already has far too much of an edge over him. 

However, when he looks up, Akira just seems to be waiting, as if expecting some sort of feedback, and Goro doesn’t have the heart to leave him wanting. 

“This is very good,” he says, and almost wants to kick himself for the lack of finesse. But Akira smiles, so it seems to have done the trick, his look contagious as Goro smiles too, taking another sip. 

“I am surprised you’re keen to introduce yourself in person,” he says at last, as Akira rests against the counter before him. 

“The others weren’t all for it, if I’m honest. But it just makes sense. It’s easier for us to keep up our normal lives if we can fit you in, rather than having to meet in constant secrecy. Plus, you are taking a significant risk for us,” he adds. 

“I thought removing a curse was a worse risk,” Goro says. 

“It is, but a different type. Plus, for that you have to put trust in us for that to work, so we need to bridge that,” Akira says. 

“I do?” Goro asks, a small spike of concern appearing. He doesn’t have many people he truly trusts in this world. They have a deal, and trust can be extended in a transactional manner. He’s not sure he’s capable of that any more. 

Akira studies him, those eyes muted somewhat in the sheen on his glasses, a different type of mask, but one all the same. 

“As I said when we met, a curse is a particularly violent spell. But to be so, it also has to come with a lot of parameters. We need to know them, so we can break or circumvent them. So you’d need to tell us exactly why you’re cursed, and how. And I can tell that’s not going to be something you want to talk about. Let alone the process of removing it,” Akira says. 

Goro exhales, his heartbeat having increased with each word Akira pieced together. He’d have to reveal all about his history with Shido, his own past...there’s not anything there to be ashamed of, it’s just not something he wants others to know. 

His weakness. His failings. All of them bared to save him from death. He almost doesn’t know which is worse. 

“As I said, it will take time,” Akira replies softly, and Goro jumps a little as he leans forward to fill his cup, and adding the same amount of cream once more. 

A kindness, oddly touching in a way that unexpected gestures are, hitting harder than they would on others. Goro has to swallow hard before managing to take a sip, fingers shaking a little clasped in his lap. Akira watches, intensely almost, and Goro strangely feels exposed despite his expertise in remaining hidden. 

He decides to leave the topic for now, move onto something else. 

“I am surprised by your effective planning. When I first saw the assignment and how perfectly it matched our goals, it almost felt like a stroke of fate,” he says with a chuckle, an attempt at lightening the mood. 

He thinks it works as Akira joins in the laugh, but then speaks. “Just some connections and a good hacker. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if there even is such a thing as fate,” he says. 

Goro puts the cup down. “No such thing as fate? Surely you don’t believe that. Nearly everyone’s life is governed by fate in this world,” he says. 

Akira leans back against the wall and looks at Goro. “If everything were set in stone, there would be no need for us to make choices. Nothing we do would matter, and I don’t believe that’s true. It would also mean no one would need to take responsibility for their actions. All they did was because of fate,” he says. 

Goro finds himself locked in place as Akira talks. He’s never out rightly dismissed fate, but all of Akira’s thoughts make sense. If fate were all that mattered, his curse would be irrefutable, and Goro does not want that to be his end. 

And yet, the cards have been right about his life so far. But will the rest of his fortune come true? Goro finds himself shaking his head to remove the curling crimson words of death forever cemented in his mind. 

“When we met, you wondered if it was fate,” Goro reminds him. 

Akira steps forward, smiling almost shyly. “There are some things that seem...almost too good to be true. But, even if some events are more likely, you can always change things. Nothing is set in stone. At least, that’s what I believe,” he says. 

“A good belief, if you are powerful enough to change things. Not everyone has that luxury,” Goro says bitterly. 

His thoughts curdle as his words hang in the air. Akira frowns, something almost like pity in his face, and Goro cannot stand it. The reminder of his weakness makes his stomach churn, the coffee he’s been given now seeming to have a side effect of reminding him exactly of how lost he is, tired in fate and magic he cannot fight. 

And here stands Akira, rejecting fate that the whole world believes in, representing the Justice card more than Goro ever can despite his want to. He has everything Goro wishes he could have, and he’s making coffee in the back corner streets of nowhere, and changing the hearts of deadbeats. 

Goro stands, the searing boil of jealousy slipping through. “I must go now, I have to set up a few things for work,” he says, measuring his voice carefully. 

“R-right. Oh, it’s on the house. And please, come back anytime. Not just when there’s an update,” Akira adds, scrambling around the counter to see him out, which is almost the antithesis of Joker’s practiced moves. 

“Hang on, Akechi, one second,” he calls as Goro reaches the door. 

Goro waits, although he doesn’t know why, and Akira ducks back behind the counter, and then to Goro’s surprise comes back with a deck of tarot. 

“You have cards?” he says in shock, and Akira grins. 

“They aren’t mine, I’m just borrowing them. Anyway, watch,” he says, and Goro does as he cuts the deck and flips over the card. 

Which is blank. 

Just a bold, bright red with a white patterning edging it, strong tarot hues that are unusual in itself. It looks almost like a template card, but before he can study it further Akira shuffles again, and pulls it a second time. Then a third. 

“A blank deck?” Goro says, sounding as tired as he feels. 

“Nope. Take a look, spread them out,” he says. 

Goro does, rolling his eyes when Justice tips over first, but spreads the whole deck on the bar. Not a single card is blank. 

“I mean it when I say fate can be changed. I wasn’t always able to do that. But I can now. I had a reading as a kid, sure, but now nothing I do makes a mark on fate. So, no matter what’s happened to you Akechi, you can change your fate. We can change fate together.” 

Goro stares at Akira, his breathing loud in his ears, and growing louder ever still. Akira looks back, mouth slightly parted, cheeks slightly pink as if he’s just run a mile, the power and depth of his voice and his meaning still swirling around them. Commanding. Enticing. True. 

And Goro flees. 

He doesn’t respond, and Akira doesn’t say anything else as he opens the door and steps into the day, letting the world blink him for a moment in contrast to the dark hues of the café. He inhales once, then moves off quickly, walking back to his apartment. 

But no matter how fast he goes, the memory of the empty red, white and black cards haunts his every step. 

Chapter Text

Working with Haru is strange but enjoyable. Although, Goro must admit, it also doesn’t truly feel like work as he’s not doing his usual job. He’s more of a consultant, helping the community by giving his input where he can regarding local issues. He’s not sure how long they’ll be able to keep this up, but it actually makes him feel useful, which Goro didn’t realise he’d been missing so much. 

“Funding is a problem in this area, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Haru says on his first morning, as he looks through the local caseloads, which are very familiar to him. 

“I can see that. Unemployment is higher here than in neighbouring towns,” he adds, and she nods. 

“Yes. I hope in the next six months to re-open the restaurant which was shut down after my father was arrested last year, but it’s been a slow process,” she says. 

“I recall the case,” Goro says, looking for her reaction. 

She turns to him, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t work on it, I was too new at the time, but it seems he confessed to the charges,” he says, and Haru nods. 

“I’m the first to admit my father did some terrible things. But I’m almost certain they were not his original intent. Along the way, he became someone he wasn’t,” she says, looking out of the window. 

Goro hesitates, putting the unsaid together. “And I would assume Shido has something to do with that,” he says. 

Haru turns to him and nods. “Yes. My powers allow me to see magical signatures, and Shido’s started appearing in my father’s work until it consumed almost everything,” she says. 

“So that’s how you identified the curse,” Goro says, and the light in her eyes dims. 

“Yes. I am sorry that you’ve experienced it. I know well what it’s like to be harmed by his greed, but to curse an actual person...that is particularly evil,” she says, that bite and power echoing in her voice, and Goro hopes he’s never on the receiving end of her wrath.

He spends time with all the Thieves in the weeks that pass. Makoto actually warms to him, asking first about her sister, seeing as he knows firsthand how Sae never takes enough holiday, so Makoto is the one always visiting. 

She also tells him about her classes, which interests him more than he’d assumed. Goro walked into this life of a detective almost blindly, in all senses purely out of necessity. However, Makoto is deliberately taking a similar path and knows much more about the law in theory than he does through osmosis. There’s only so much he can be exposed to in his sheltered role, and considering they do not see eye to eye, it sparks off lively debates. 

He is, at first, a little worried about seeing Akira again. It takes him a week before he musters the courage and goes to Leblanc again, the echoes of their conversation still haunting his steps, especially his abrupt departure. He is a little embarrassed, mostly as Akira’s presence, those damn eyes, had caused the initial turbulence of their last meeting. 

But of course, Goro has to go back if he wants this to work, so he turns up the second week of his stay, and Akira is there, just as before. Luckily this time there are other customers, so there is little chance of having to dive right back into their previous conversation. Thankfully this seems to aid him, as they slip into a more neutral ground, no more discussion on changing fate together. 

Ann, or Panther as she is called as a Thief, is the biggest shock. He meets her one day when she stops by to see Haru, wearing an extremely fancy-looking outfit for the time of day. 

“I bring sugar! Oh, hi Akechi, we haven’t met properly yet, I’m Ann Takamaki, but call me Ann,” she says, smiling brightly. 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, as Haru appears. 

“Oh wow, you look incredible, I can’t wait to see the pictures,” she says, and Ann smiles even more. 

“Thanks! I have pastries, they had loads leftover and I...overestimated how many I took,” she says, and Haru laughs. 

“Thank you, Ann. Akechi, would you like one?” she asks, and seeing as there’s little to do at the moment, he gets up to inspect the variety of snacks on offer. When he picks the strawberry shortcake, Ann nods. 

“That one was my favourite. I actually know the café where this comes from, if you like it we can go!” she says, and he’s a little amazed at her enthusiasm, but ends up agreeing to go next week when she’s doing a modelling shoot nearby. 

Ryuji still finds him suspicious, which is fine by Goro. The friendliness of Akira, Haru, and Ann is enough to already drain him, not used to having to be so social outside of work. He doesn’t see Oracle again in his first three weeks of splitting his time with the Thieves and his job, but at the end of his normal working week, he receives a message from the unknown number once more. 

How often do you eat cup ramen? Honestly, it can’t taste that good.

He looks between the cup ramen at his desk and the phone, peering up at his colleagues, who all seem to be in their own world, before typing out a response. 

Oracle? Are you spying on me?

He takes another bite of his ramen just for good measure, until his phone buzzes again. 

The city police network has zero protections, I could do this in my sleep. So. Your lunch is terrible. Again. 

Goro closes his eyes and massages a brewing headache at his temples, before gaining the strength to reply. 

Is there something I can help you with?

You’re no fun. Akira wants to talk to you on Monday, so come to Leblanc after work. And try and eat an actual lunch!

Goro buries the need to snark back at being told how to eat by a mysterious hacker, whom he’s met once, and just casts his mind forward to the week ahead. It will be almost two months since his first arrival, which is probably why they’re wanting to move it forward. Goro feels guilt seep; he’s been too absorbed in his fake work and even spent an entire day on Tuesday being dragged to various places with Ann. 

They made a deal, for a specific reason, and Goro has to deliver. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have any further information. He’s looked into the charm again, so he’s confident he knows of it in theory, but he has no further ideas of how they can get it tied to Akira. But perhaps those more versed in magic may be able to help. 

His stomach turns though as he remembers the second part of their deal. The curse. Goro truly does want it removed, but he’s still not keen on discussing everything with them. Plus, part of him wonders if he recalls the incident correctly. As much as it pains him to admit it, he’s still haunted by the day, wakes up shaking with memories of the air taken from his lungs, gasping into the dark. 

So it’s with some buried trepidation he enters Leblanc on Monday, only to be greeted with a cheer. 

“The detective arrives! Good we can eat,” says a girl who is unmistakable Oracle, sitting at the bar in an oversized hoodie and waving frantically at Akira who is ignoring her in favour of staring at Goro. 

Akira's smile tips up, and Goro’s mouth pulls on its own to match as he walks forward. 

“Alright, Futaba calm down. Yusuke’s not even here yet,” Akira says, again not looking at her, but gesturing toward a particular chair at the centre of the bar where he’d like Goro to sit. 

And Goro goes, firstly because there’s not many other choices, and secondly because his body seems unable to disobey Akira, and that should worry him deeply. 

“Akira’s making curry as I told him about the cup ramen,” Futaba adds and Goro sighs heavily. 

“You really should eat a proper lunch,” Akira says, but with a smirk that Goro returns with a narrowing of his eyes, before Akira turns and goes back to the kitchen. 

As he does, the café door opens, and Goro turns just as Futaba mutters ‘finally’ under her breath. The man who enters is lugging a huge canvas with him and manages to hit the booth nearest the door, gasping in horror as he does. 

“Inari, don’t break the café, you can’t afford to pay for the repairs,” Futaba calls, just as Akira comes running out of the kitchen. 

“Everything okay, Yusuke?” he says, walking to the other end of the bar while Yusuke checks the canvas and breathes a sigh of relief. 

“The painting is fine, thank you for your concern, Akira. That could have been a tragedy,” he says solemnly as he stands. 

“Right, well, curry is nearly done. This is Goro Akechi, who we mentioned before,” Akira says, turning towards Goro. 

“Ah yes, I watched you on television after Akira informed me of your participation in this plan. You have an exceptional jawline,” Yusuke says as he takes a seat next to Goro. 

“I...thank you?” Goro says and Futaba and chokes on his other side, thrown completely off by the bizarreness of the statement. 

“Please don’t flirt with him, Akira’s already got that covered,” Futaba says. 

There’s a crash from the kitchen. Futaba starts laughing and Goro’s ears begin to heat up. Flirting? That’s impossible and ludicrous, but even as he thinks it, he remembers the few quips as Joker, the softness of Akira’s smile, the promises of help and fate…

“I was not flirting, it’s an objective statement. Akechi has a wonderful profile,” he says. 

“I don’t see it,” Futaba drawls, and Goro whips around to face her, the grin on her face that same manic smile he recalls from when Oracle left him in the dark train station, but he’s interrupted by a plate being placed in front of him. 

“I didn’t actually check if you like curry, I’m sorry. If not, I can make you something else,” Akira says. 

Goro stares at the steaming plate, his appetite appearing with a vengeance along with an almost painful stirring, leaving him stalled and quiet, blinking at the full plate. He’s not had home-cooked food in years, and never this much of it. His eyes burn, and he hopes his shaky inhalation isn’t noticed as he swallows and looks up, Akira seeming almost nervous as he waits for a reply. 

“I like curry, thank you very much,” he manages, impressed at the steadiness of his voice. 

Akira just nods, nerves gone, then retreats to serve the other two. 

“See what I mean? Special treatment,” Futaba mutters, and to Goro’s dismay Yusuke hums thoughtfully, but both say nothing more as their own food is brought over. 

Akechi doesn’t know why he’s surprised Akira can cook, but he is, utterly and completely. Perhaps as he assumed all people his age were just as terrible as he in the kitchen, but he’s impressed beyond measure at the skill and care in the dish. Just the right balance of flavours, the perfect amount of rice to oppose the sauce...it’s one of the best meals he’s had in a long time. 

“I think I like the one you made last week a little better,” Futaba says, and Goro has an overwhelming urge to steal her food for daring to criticise. 

“That’s because you like it sweeter, I deliberately changed it,” Akira says, and Futaba looks over at Goro once before grinning and returning to her food. 

Was that because of me? Goro thinks, but doesn’t dare contemplate it further, a dangerous thought that it is, combined with the most recent conversations. They all eat in relative silence after that, and Goro is warm and full by the time they’re done. 

“Thank you, Akira. You’re a good cook,” he says, as Akira clears the table for them. 

“You’re welcome, it’s just practice. I had a good teacher,” he says, before coming back to lean on the counter, surveying them all. 

The atmosphere instantly changes, an air of seriousness as Akira looks between them and nods once. 

“I think I have a plan for the charm,” he says. 

“Oooh, I wondered what this might be about,” Futaba says, the high stool lurching dangerously as she tips forward, so much so that Goro’s arm almost flies out to steady her. 

“Ah, this is the charm which can nullify banishment?” Yusuke asks, and Akira nods. 

“Akechi, you said you’d looked into it? Have you seen it in person?” he says, and next to him, Futaba hums. 

“Not a real one, no, but it’s a standard-issue written charm. The paper itself is enchanted, and will grant the signatory up to twelve hours protection in the standard form. Any longer requires special permissions, so I believe that will be all I can potentially get you,” he says. 

“We can get in and out in twelve hours,” Akira says, but both Futaba and Yusuke seem concerned. 

“Really? I was hoping we’d get a day,” Futaba says. 

“Shido himself would need to sign off on twenty-four hours, but twelve is easier. It does though, need to be signed off by-”

“That doesn’t matter. We won’t need a real one. We’ll make a copy,” Akira says. 

Silence falls between them, Goro just as stunned as the others, before his mind catches up and fear he’s not accustomed to feeling spirals through. 

“That’s a stupid idea, you’ll get yourself killed,” he hisses, leaning forward towards Akira, who just smirks in such a Joker-like way it makes Goro want to bang his head on the counter to knock some sense into him. 

“Not with Yusuke’s power, I won’t,” he says, and Goro slowly turns to Yusuke, whose eyes are glancing far away, clearly considering. 

“I’m not sure, Akira. That’s really risky. I’m pretty sure the punishment for faking official documents like that is life in jail,” Futaba says, pulling back into herself as she speaks. 

“If you’re lucky, you’ll probably be dead before you make it to trial,” Goro says, and Futaba winces, causing Akira to glare at him. 

“I can do it.” 

All three turn to stare at Yusuke, who nods determinedly. 

“I need a very clear visual though to make a replica of the spell. But if given one, I can do it,” he says. 

“I knew you could. Now, we just need Akechi to get a good look at the charm,” Akira says, and all eyes swivel to him. 

Goro looks between them. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow. How is me looking at the charm going to help?” he says, still a little stuck on how happy they are to try and fake a dangerous document. 

“Ah, I should explain my power. I am able to create spells or magical items after seeing them once. I don’t need to see them myself, I can also, if permitted, see impressions from the minds of others,” he says, fanning his arms out as he speaks. 

“Basically, if you look at the form hard enough, Inari can get it out of your brain,” Futaba says. 

“That...that’s worse,” Goro says and she starts cackling again. 

“He’s fun, can we keep him?” she says to Akira who is clearly trying not to laugh. 

“Akechi, it’s the easiest way to do this without having to cause you or me any major problems. If you can get a good look at a form in person, Yusuke can recreate the charm and I’ll have twelve hours to get in and out of the city. It’s the best plan,” Akira says, clearly pleased with himself. 

The excitement in his eyes is...adorable almost, the way he’s leaning forward again, almost pulling Goro in with how much he clearly believes in this plan, in his team and their powers. And despite all reservations, Goro cannot deny he wants to be in that wake, drawn in and counted, included like this: in plans, in activities, in dinner invitations. It’s a whole world he’s never had. 

And is not his, not really. 

He is just a business transaction, a method into the city for Akira, who in turn is a method to gaining his heart and freedom. Despite this lull of drawing him in, there is no permanency to the situation. In a few months, Goro will be able to bring Shido down, and he’ll never see these people again. 

So he pushes it down plasters on a smile as ever and nods. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” he says. 

“Excellent, I look forward to seeing inside your mind,” Yusuke says, and Goro cannot even begin to take in that terrifying sentence for Akira is looking at him again. 

Goro doesn’t know how those eyes manage to do this to him every time, send him off-kilter so badly. Right now, there’s staring, unblinking through the thick frames of his glasses, but penetrating all the while, as if he knows how Goro’s thoughts are turned, watching them form and float away. 

Futaba swings off her chair and paces around him to grab onto Yusuke, babbling on about a programme she needs him to test before dragging him towards the door, Yusuke giving them both a startled wave as he awkwardly takes his canvas and retreats with Futaba from the cafe. 

“Well, that was something,” Goro mutters in their wake, and Akira laughs, soft and kindly, that shaken feeling echoing in Goro again. 

He decides this is enough for the day though, feeling exhausted after the news and the interaction. These people are a lot to deal with, and try as he might, even after a month he cannot seem to fully prepare himself. 

“Thank you again for dinner, that was kind of you,” he says as he stands. 

“It’s no trouble. I really do worry about your diet, you know. You always seem tired, you must work hard,” Akira says. 

Goro shrugs, pulling on his coat. He usually does his makeup enough to hide the ceaseless dark circles born from years of working tirelessly, and sleeping in fits and starts. It’s been like this since he can remember, whether it was homework in a cold house around his mothers’ schedule, or imagining a world without Shido while pretending to be a diligent, cursed co-worker. 

“I’m fine. I’ll see what I can do about the charm,” he says. 

Akira paused, midway through drying a plate, then turns to Goro. 

“What are you doing tomorrow evening?” he asks. 

“Um, nothing in particular,” Goro replies, as it will be his last night here before returning to the city for the week. 

“Let’s go out. Do something fun,” Akira says, and Goro blinks. 

“Fun? Don’t you have planning to do?” he asks, and Akira shakes his head. 

“We planned today. Can’t work all the time, no matter what you might think. I’ll take you somewhere you’ve never been before,” he says. 

Goro swallows, sparks flying from his toes to his head, a dizzying sensation following in their path, and he clears his throat. 

“If you really think it’s a good use of your time,” he says, and Akira smiles. 

“I need a day off as much as you. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Akechi,” he says, effectively ending the conversation. 

He pauses for a second, then clears his throat. “You may call me Goro, if you wish. It seems odd for only one of us to drop the formalities,” he says, and Akira nods rapidly, which makes his departure rather swift after that. 

Goro doesn’t know what to make of it. It’s not any clearer in his mind when he wakes up, or by the time he’s finished work, during which Haru asks him several times if he’s okay. Soon enough it’s seven, and Goro is leaving his apartment and walking through the centre of town to meet Akira at the restaurant mentioned in his message. 

It’s as he turns onto the street, sees Akira waiting, wearing a dark jacket over his jeans which causes Goro to wonder with sudden horror if this is a date. 

“Of course not,” he mutters to himself, pausing just to knock some sense into himself. It’s all Futaba’s teasing getting the best of him, that’s all. Akira is just being nice, in the same way as he’s nice to Goro every time he visits. 

A form of pity, Goro is sure, and it burns a little as he makes those final steps. But, even though Goro doesn’t have fantastic powers, even though he’s chained to Shido until someone can remove this curse, he has something Akira wants, no, needs . And that makes him able to endure the pity. 

So he plasters a smile on his face as he walks over, cataloguing the moment Akira notices him, glancing up from his phone, eyes meeting and smiling as if he’s truly overjoyed at Goro’s presence. He has to smother the seedlings of delight that brings, instead focusing on forming casual sentences. 

“Good evening, Akira. Thank you again for suggesting this,” he says. 

Akira blinks, taken aback for some reason. “It’s no trouble, I actually feel pretty bad I haven’t shown you much of the town yet. It’s a good place, even if it is a little small,” he says, pushing off from the wall and walking to the left. 

“You really don’t have to play tour guide, that’s not part of our deal,” Goro says, and Akira shakes his head. 

“Not everything we have to do is because of our deal. But if it makes you feel better, this does sort of work towards it,” he says, then pauses and turns to an unassuming looking restaurant, before throwing a grin over his shoulder, and leading the way inside. 

Goro isn’t expecting sushi, and he isn’t expecting it to be as nice as it is inside. Akira seems to sense his surprise, and shrugs, hair falling over his glasses in a way that makes Goro itch to push it back. 

“It’s not every day you get to impress someone,” he says, a slight hint of Joker’s voice back again. He’s reminded of Futaba as Oracle warning him to look cool when he watched them change a heart, wondering if there is some theme running along here. Clearly, their need to get into the city must be great. 

Despite Goro’s initial insistence he keep some sort of professional nature to this dinner outing, it’s not long before he’s swept up in the evening. He doesn’t know how; he and Akira seem to have entirely different interests, yet the time sweeps by. Akira actually seems to care about what Goro has to say, whether that’s on work or his ranking of the cafes Ann’s taken him to, and before he realises it, he’s moved onto philosophy of all things. 

He coughs, partway through an analysis, skin heating as he releases Akira hasn’t said anything for the past few minutes, just listening with a small smile on his face. 

“Ah, I apologies, I’ve been rambling,” he says, taking a sip of his tea as a distraction. 

“I liked listening,” Akira says, and Goro really hates how much he yearns at that, cannot remember the last time anyone wanted to hear him simply talk. 

He has to get back on track, so jumps onto a topic which has been bothering him for some time. 

“You have tarot cards, but they aren’t yours. Can you read them?” he asks. 

Akira hesitates for a second, taking his own sip of tea before turning back. “Some. I have a friend who can use them, the cards are his. I don’t know enough to give any kind of reading, but enough to get a gist of where things might head. Only for someone else pulling the cards, of course,” he says, 

“Ah yes, you who has no fate,” Goro muses, and Akira shrugs. 

“More that I’ve accepted I make my own fate. Nothing is ever set,” he says, just as he did before. 

“Easy to say when your cards don’t predict anything,” Goro says, and Akira leans forward ever so slightly. 

“Is this to do with the other person who you want to save?” 

Goro drops his chopsticks, for a moment completely unsure of what Akira is talking about, but hits at the same time he explains. 

“You contacted asking us to steal your heart for the good of yourself and another. You’ve never mentioned someone else though in making our deal,” he says and Goro clears his throat. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, for truly it doesn’t. Akira is painfully correct in that Goro has no other person in his life, therefore he’s currently in no danger of killing anyone. But he’s not going to set his fate on the table to prove a type of urgency to all this. 

“It must, if you mentioned it,” Akira presses and Goro turns to him, frustration growing. 

“Breaking the curse is your part of the bargain. Nothing else. And besides, I...think it might be to do with that anyway,” he says, voicing a thought half-formed. 

The curse is a linchpin in his life; if he does believe his fate, it represents the changing of his fortunes, and even if he doesn’t, the magnitude of it cannot be discounted. The moment he caught Shido’s attention, he set himself on a path where he is ultimately not in control of his own actions and decisions. He has to work this job, has to keep his own sense of Justice locked away and festering, and ultimately has been forced to make a deal with vigilantes to get this far. 

Killing his first love must be in this downward spiral. If he can prevent it, break Shido’s curse and force that man to his knees, and set his own self back to the life he wants, whatever that may be, he’s sure he can stop it. 

Away from his mind, Akira makes a small sound, one Goro isn’t sure of. 

“I didn’t mean to pry. I just...wanted to let you talk about it if you need to. Not just because of our deal, before you say that,” he says. 

Goro focuses. He hasn’t tried to do that in so long, pulling out that small amount of power he has. And yet, Akira appears genuine, and he can’t figure out why, except for what he’s seen with others. 

“You always seem to be the one people confide in,” Goro says, and Akira’s mouth grimaces a little before straightening out. 

“Guess I’m just one of those people others like to talk to,” he says, but Goro knows even without the deflection, that isn’t always what he wants. 

“I’m not here to burden you with my feelings constantly, Akira,” he says, but Akira shakes his head. 

“It’s not a burden, and I’m offering to hear them. Without an expiry date,” he adds, and Goro laughs to himself. 

“You really are an interesting one,” he says. 

“Interesting enough for you to use your powers on?” Akira says with a flash of a grin and Goro grimaces to himself. 

“I apologise, a force of habit. But be reassured, it doesn’t do much,” he says. 

“What makes you say that? Sure, you clearly don’t use it enough to be subtle about it, but that comes with practice,” he says, and Goro stares in shock. 

“What do you mean? It’s...nothing. Not even a power at all,” he says. 

“Goro, whoever told you that is lying. Or did you tell yourself that?” he asks, and Goro can’t answer that as it’s a combination of himself and Shido, neither of which he wants to delve into. 

“Me seeing slight impressions of falsehood versus you being able to summon elements, and manifest technology and...appear out of nowhere is nothing but a weak trickle of power,” he hisses, feeling that hard kept jealousy rising as he does. 

But Akira doesn’t seem perturbed by the venom in his tone. He simply takes another gulp of tea, eyes on Goro the whole time, infuriating calm. 

“Power isn’t just being able to do something flashy or inflicting harm. What you have isn’t weak Goro, and you shouldn’t be comparing it with what others have. Magic doesn’t work that way,” he says. 

Something about the tone makes the fight drain from him, and Goro sits back on his chair, watching the servers flitter back and forth, almost dizzying in their swiftness. 

“I can do nothing about my own curse. That is weak to me,” he says. 

Akira, for some reason, moves his chair so he’s close to Goro, so close their arms must touch, and when Goro looks up, he can pinpoint all the flecks of darkness and light in Akira’s eyes, the shades of blue and darkest brown that combine to make grey. His heart beats loud in his ears, the world centres to just them, and Goro wonders if this is what it must feel like to have the true power he craves. 

“No one can. I can’t break it alone. There’s very little I could do on my own, which is why my friends and I are a team,” he says. 

He looks away, and the moment passes, noise and awareness returning just in time for Goro to realise a server is asking them if they need anything else. Akira asks for the bill and then turns back to Goro once their table is clear. 

“You know, you could join us. If you want,” he says, with a shrug, while Goro almost laughs out loud. 

“Join...your team,” he says, and Akira nods. 

“You already are an honorary member. You could join us permanently if you like,” he says. 

Goro can barely comprehend he’s been asked to join the Phantom Thieves so casually after a dinner. After the way this conversation has gone tonight, he’s almost unsure if this is real. But he shakes his head, Akira still waiting for an answer. 

“I’m surprised at the offer I must say, but no, thank you. I have my own aims and sense of Justice. I’m not sure your changing of hearts through power falls under it,” he says. 

“Your own justice?” Akira asks, just as their bill is brought. 

Goro smiles, that first-ever Justice card, the gold and blues shining in his mind clear as day. 

“Which doesn’t involve using any type of power. Oh yes, I’m aware of your type of targets, and yes I agree they should be stopped, pay for what they’ve done, and in an ideal world, their hearts would change. But is your authority just? Is using your power that way real retribution? You force their change by your own ideals and powers. And I personally cannot ever agree with this method,” he says. 

Akira’s eyes seem to flash then that red tinge of power he’s seen before in all the Thieves, but he can’t tell if it’s real, seeing as they seem as grey as ever when he speaks. 

“You work inside the so-called justice system. Do you really think we can leave things as they are?” he asks. 

“No, I don’t. But I also don’t believe that gives you the right to charge in with your own,” Goro says.

There’s tension for a moment, but Goro stands firm, staring into Akira’s eyes, able to pinpoint the moment when they soften. 

“Worth a try, you’d be a great asset. If you ever change your mind, the offer is always open,” he says, just as the server arrives. 

He goes for his wallet just as Akira whips out a card and hands it over. “It’s on me,” he says, as the machine is handed over, and Goro leans forward to protest, but the transaction is already complete. 

“I invited you, it’s my treat. A delayed welcome, even if it’s only temporary,” Akira says, with a smile so true Goro isn’t even tempted to use his powers. 

He thinks about that smile the whole way back to his apartment and on the drive to the city the next day. 

It’s utterly distracting, and so are the messages he gets from various members of the group throughout the week. Updates on their missions from Ann and Futaba, despite his conversation with Akira about not wanting anything to do with the Phantom Thieves themselves, plus a stilted, but somehow still engaging conversation with Yusuke over various topics. 

Akira chatters about anything, and that is most disturbing. He asks Goro’s opinion on potential coffee beans as ‘someone who drinks a dangerous amount of caffeine,’ after which he ends up telling Futaba again not to spy on him. Akira sends him cat photos, especially of one black and white cat he seems awfully fond of, and then, to Goro’s own horror, he ends up chasing to find out how Akira is after a mission. 

Through it all, he does manage to do some work, but it’s hardly helpful in terms of his aim to pursue helping Akira into the city. His plan with Yusuke seems sound, but while Goro is knowledgeable of how the charm is issued, he simply can’t go and watch this happen. Only approved members of the department can give it to a person, and no one is scheduled to receive one soon. 

On top of that, Goro doesn’t know anyone in that department and has no excuse to visit them. He has no cases which would require this type of knowledge, and although the Thieves were able to manufacture a case for him to work on in their turf, he’s unsure if even Futaba could piece this together. 

“Are you looking into charms?” 

Sae’s voice snaps him from his cycling and he plasters on a smile as she peers over the back of his computer. 

“Oh, just an interest. The department came up in some of my reading of previous cases,” he says. 

Sae offers him an encouraging smile. “Ah, I see. It is an interesting area, I’ll admit. And I can see why you’d want to find out more, especially as there’s not much happening here,” she says, gesturing to the empty office. 

Goro smiles, sharing that same look with her. They have less and less to do by the day, much of their work being snapped up by Shido’s office. Almost as if he’s deliberately gearing up for something, but Goro can’t catch wind what of. 

“You know, I have a friend on that team. If you’re truly that invested, I can see if they’d let you shadow for a while,” she says. 

Goro turns, surveying her fully. “Are you sure that would be possible?” he says slowly, amazed at the potential luck falling into his lap. 

“It’s not unusual, especially with someone of your age. We’d normally move interns and new hires around to gain more experience, so while there’s not much on here, you may as well learn something new,” she says. 

Sae advises him to name a few departments he could potentially be transferred to, and so by the end of the day confirms she’s submitted the request. She cautions him that she can’t promise he’ll get what he’s picked, or if any of this will go through at all, but he’s simply elated that there’s potential in the air. 

But all that bursts the next morning when he receives a call early the next from Shido’s secretary demanding his presence at an unscheduled meeting the following afternoon. 

Chapter Text

It isn’t entirely unusual for Shido to summon him so abruptly; the man has no interest in anything other than his own whims, so as far as he’s concerned, everyone’s life is his to arrange. It’s the timing of it though which has Goro’s nerves rising more than they usually would. 

He hasn’t seen Shido in person for many months, which is how he prefers it. As he waits in the city hall, all he can think of is that first time he arrived here. The same melancholy hangs over each person that passes, the same sickly veil to all of them, some more pronounced than others. His hands shake a little, and he grips them in fists, inhaling deeply. 

Goro is unsure if he’s shaking it rage or worry, both emotions rising in tandem when it comes to Shido. He despises himself for the latter, but the fact is, he is no better prepared than the first time, other than with the full knowledge of what Shido can and will do. 

But hopefully, that will change soon. 

Akira’s words ring out in his mind; he has his agreement with the Phantom Thieves and is not doing this alone. Not this part, anyway. Soon, he will be free from the curse, have upheld his side of the bargain, and will be able to exact the revenge he’s been wishing for. 

All of this will crumble. No more toxicity, no more of Shido’s reign, no more of him . And the person that Shido saw as weak and helpless will be the one solely responsible for it. The prospect makes him smile, his whole self feeling lighter imaging it. When he will be free. 

But free to do what? Something whispers suddenly, making Goro’s mind pause, an uncommon thing. 

He’s never truly considered what might happen after Shido’s been brought to justice; achieving it has been his only goal. All his life, Goro has been simply surviving, clinging onto the next moment as that’s all he has the capacity to do. 

The prospect of ‘after’ has never existed, and he’s not even sure it does now. But his meeting the Thieves, who all have goals and aims which seem to be bigger than one single incident tied to them, has altered his thoughts. Goro’s not sure what he thinks of this small shift. 

But then Shido’s secretary calls him in, and he ceases those musings to return to reality, wherein he has to deal with a world where Shido is yet to be toppled. 

“Sit,” is the greeting he receives, and Goro obliges, curling his gloved hands over his knee so he has some sort of stability. 

Shido barely spares him a glance, gaze fixed on his computer, just ensuring Goro is actually present before addressing him without looking. 

“I hear you’ve been offered roles in different departments. That Public Prosecutor you’re working with seems to think you could do with expanding your knowledge,” he says, and Goro’s breath catches. 

This was the best way to get access to the charm, and therefore uphold his side of the bargain. Without it, Goro isn’t sure he’ll be able to help, especially as he’ll already have tried to access that department once. Perhaps he can sneak in? It would take more time and risk, but possibly could be done if-

“I’m pleased. Fitting in with that department helps me gain more leverage. You’ve done well,” Shido says, unexpectedly, his eyes only flicking over to Goro by the end of the sentence. 

Once again, Goro’s thoughts stall. He isn't expecting praise, hates how it warms him, like a balm to the edge of his nerves. He doesn’t want Shido’s approval, and yet without thought, he basks in a job well done. Weaknesses forever hold him back. 

He controls himself, offering a practiced smile. “Thank you, I thought it would be good to learn as much as possible,” he says, hoping neutrality will work in his favour. 

“It will, if you can help build some ties that would serve me well. I have a contact at the next team you’ll be working in. I also hear you’re doing well in your out of town assignment,” he says. 

This time, Goro really can’t trust himself to speak. He knows Haru and Futaba have been constructing feedback as part of the ruse, but he isn’t sure how to approach this now Shido is mentioning the very plot to remove his influence so carelessly. 

“I have plans for that town. It’s been outside the City’s influence for too long,” he says, and Goro frowns. 

“They have their own council of magical influence, do they not?” he asks, and Shido’s attention fully turns to him for the first time. 

“Yes. For now, anyway. It would be better to bring them into the fold sooner,” he says. 

Ice runs down Goro’s spine at the thought. Akira’s face comes to mind, smiling as he makes coffee at Leblanc, the place Goro has come to associate so well with his time spent there. Hearing that Shido already has his eyes set on it causes a wave of protectiveness, not something he’s really experienced before. 

This afternoon is clearly one for delving into new emotions. He’s not sure he’s a fan. But Shido seems to be done with musing, informing Goro that his first assignment will be to shadow the fraud team, which he has a nasty feeling means he’ll be learning how to cover up indiscretions. 

After that, their short meeting is over, and Goro steps out with a sigh of relief. Unconsciously, he rubs his hand across his chest; there is no mark or sign of the curse that he can see, but in days like this he feels it burn as brand on his soul, an ache without end as a constant reminder. 

He should and could go back to the office, but the prospect makes his energy run dry. But equally, there’s nothing waiting for him at home, so he finds himself wandering through the city, rush hour in full effect. He feels dazed, watching the universe move; teenagers after school, arm-in-arm with friends, business people going for drinks, couples linking hands as they have eyes for only one another. 

He drifts, stands apart even as he wanders by. Goro cannot help but wonder what it must be like to be one of them, hand-in-hand with another, or part of a group with a purpose on their way out after work. 

His mind though, conjures slight images of a different place; of cafes with Ann, or spending the day with Haru, where he too could be mistaken as one of the crowd. Of course, he’s playing a role, a service to these people but in those moments it’s easy to be and forget.

Akira in that sushi restaurant, the evening they’d spent together, much like this night, the same weather, and the same atmosphere. Had they been observed, seen as two people so wrapped up in their own world? In each other-

“Goro? Goro Akechi?” 

He starts, completely losing his train of thought and bracing himself for the usual barrage of someone recognising him from TV. But when turns to the voice, the mask in place, he sees a familiar person sitting at a table. 

“ Chihaya ?” he says, moving forward, and she laughs, standing. 

“It’s been so long! How are you?” she asks, stepping away from the table and drawing him into a hug. 

He forces himself to relax; she always did seem overly friendly. It is though, truly good to see her, a person from the world of the past. It seems she feels the same, for she surveys him closely, a smile growing. 

“You look so well! I’ve seen you on TV a few times, but...no, you look better like this,” she decides, in that tone which is not quite part of reality. 

“It’s nice to see you as well. I didn’t expect to,” he says, and her face falls a little. 

“It has been a bad few years. I could never really settle, my business quite useless there. But then again it’s not so helpful here in the city either. They have whole companies of diviners, and most of the general public have already had their birth readings. So I make do,” she says with a shrug. 

Goro looks past her for the first time, seeing a familiar table, but no cards in sight. 

“I mostly do palm readings, a little scrying. Most people aren’t that interested in seeing anything other than what they wish to, anyway,” she adds, giving him a knowing look. 

“I can vouch for that. Do you have enough business?” he asks, and she smiles then, a true look of kindness. 

“Yes, thank you. I will always be in your debt, you know,” she replies as she walks back to her table, and Goro follows, sitting when bid. 

“Really, you gave me a reading, that still is enough payment,” he says. 

“And how is fate treating you?” she asks, tipping her head to one side, a serious expression growing. “I still remember your cards. Hard to forget really,” she says, voice trailing off. 

“Actually, there is something you may be able to help me with,” he says, and she leans forward, long hair spilling almost onto the table, interest lighting up her eyes. 

“Of course,” she says, and he casts his mind back to his many conversations with Akira. 

“Do you believe fate can be changed? Or that it can stop existing for someone?” he asks. 

She blinks, clearly not expecting the question, leaning back in her chair. She seems to look past him for a second, and then inhales once before focusing. 

“Fate is...fate, Goro. It’s a map that we cannot live without, laid out in front of us which is inevitable. We cannot fight what is meant to be, and we cannot change what the universe has in store for us. Otherwise, any of this would not exist,” she says, gesturing at the instruments on her table. 

A sudden dive and swoop spreads through, cold then intense warmth as he recalls the blood-red words on white, still in a box with his mothers’ tarot set in his apartment. But as he does, Akira’s blank card comes to mind, two pieces of proof of the world at odds. 

Without saying anything, Chihaya moves, tilting to the left, rummaging under the table. She quickly produces a familiar set of cards, grinning at him. 

“Let me show you something,” she says, then shuffles the cards. She asks him to cut the deck and he does, before she begins the reading.

It’s exactly the same before, the exact same cards setting out his future. He exhales a strange sort of relief flooding. In some ways, it would have been worse if it had changed. 

“These are the same. So as you see, fate remains unchanged. But, you could also say, it has the potential to be anything.” 

“What?” Goro asks, as she lifts up the Justice card, holding it before her. 

“Justice, a card you once told me had great meaning to you. And much like the rest of this spread, which I interpreted for you before. But that’s just it. We’re humans, trying to define fate. In someone else's hands, Justice could mean something different than it does to you.

If I pulled this card, I wouldn’t have any personal connection to it, but it resonates with you,” she says, laying it down so to look him in the eye. 

“You could, in theory, go to any other diviner in the city and ask them to read this spread, and while the cards have basic universal meanings, they could still give their own spin, or interpretation of what your future may bring. Similarly, you will attach meaning to the events of your life that you think were spoken of by the cards, but you’ll never know if you’re correct. We’re not infallible, you and I. So, in many ways, fate can be changed. It’s still your life, your actions matter. These are really, only a guide,” she says. 

Goro feels the information sink in, the world seeming to waver, the two distinct possibilities of their fate-touched realities sweeping in. There is interpretation and there is a map; you can read it differently depending on how you hold it, but the map in itself still exists. 

“So you could, with your choices, change fate,” he concludes, and she sighs. 

“I’ve never heard of someone’s life completely changing from their birth reading. But magic is fluid, I’d never say never to anything,” she says, and he smiles. 

“So, have you met your Two of Cups?” she asks, tapping the card and he rolls his eyes. 

“If there is any part of this reading I doubt, it’s that,” he answers, and she shakes her head vehemently. 

“Goro, despite what you seem to think, you’re a good person, a caring person. I saw it that day, and I see it now. Whoever they are, they’ll be lucky to meet you. And I’m certain they will,” she says, her words seeming like a prophecy for reasons he cannot explain. 

He isn’t meant to tell her what the paper says, his personal reason for hoping the Two of Cups never comes into his life. That person is doomed to die by his hand, and he can think of few worse fates, to be killed by a person who loves you. 

If he’s even capable of feeling that strongly, he doesn’t know. 

He takes up no more of Chihaya’s time, although she demands they swap numbers and keep in touch. Goro doesn’t mind at all; it’s actually nice to have someone from home in the city, someone who actually understands what it’s like out on the edge of the world. 

Everything seems clearer after that, and he goes home feeling more a part of the universe, despite the conflicting information he gained. He decides to focus on the good parts; that hopefully he should be able to see a charm in the near future and be one step closer to getting his curse removed. 

Slowly, it’s all coming together 

The Thieves seem content with the progress, despite the fact that Goro won’t be shadowing the Exceptions Department for some time. 

“I knew it would be a long game. This is the best chance we’ll have in some time,” Akira says on his next visit, accompanied by an encouraging smile which boosts him far more than it should. 

The group seems to have enough to occupy them in the meantime; after all, the website where Goro first got in touch with them is still as active as ever. While he keeps up his ruse, he hears of their plans, for some reason the group pulls him into conversations of their next targets. 

“As I said to Akira, I’m not exactly a fan of your methods. Forcing someone, by magic or threats, to change their ideals isn’t justice,” he says. 

“Yeah, but do you think this guy trying to evict old people so he can get more money is scum?” Ryuji asks over a bowl of ramen, making Ann cough and Akira grin into his hand before looking at Goro expectantly. 

Goro sighs. “Yes, I think he’s abhorrent,” he says, and all three end up high fiving, they are just utterly ridiculous in that way. 

They keep him updated, though, which is actually a relief, seeing as he finds himself wondering after their welfare more often than not. He’s not sure if it’s out of courtesy or a sly way to try and get him on their side, but it is appreciated. One of their antics even makes headlines in the city, much to his amusement, their ‘steal your heart’ blazing across news screens for a few days. 

His first new position of shadowing is with the surveillance team, which varies from general protection for citizens and businesses to elements which Goro can tell are being used for other means. Futaba though, is more than interested in his findings, and while he refuses to tell her anything of substance, it does help that he can actually maintain more of a conversation on magical technology. 

It’s during one of these nights, the two sitting at Leblanc with curry, when Yusuke arrives with his proposition. 

“I think it would be of use for us to practice what you’ll need to do for my powers to work,” he says, sitting down with his own plate as Akira makes coffee, looking up to survey them as Yusuke speaks. 

“I think that’s a good idea, it will help make sure we get it right first-time,” he says. 

Goro is used to expectations being placed upon him, but something about the way Akira says that makes him internally straighten up, wanting to prove himself. It is, he’s sure, the potential of a future free from the curse, and not the shine to Akira’s eyes when he looks over at them. 

His stomach twists as the look goes on though, and Yusuke clears his throat. 

“If you are amenable, I’d like to start tomorrow afternoon,” he says, and Goro nods, having had nothing better to do than spend time with the group. 

Yusuke asks Goro to meet him at the studio where he originally met Akira, Haru and Makoto. It brings a strange sense of nostalgia walking through the streets, thinking of how things have changed. In the daylight the building looks far less imposing, if still partly ruined, and Yusuke waves as he approaches. 

“Ah good, you are prompt! Shall we begin?” he says, pushing the door open and walking inside. 

Again, it is utterly different in daylight, and clearly Yusuke has transformed the space for their practice today. The desk is now in the first room, and there are numerous canvases stacked around, even paint of some sort half used in a corner. It’s what Goro imagines an artist studio normally looks like, and grins to himself  thinking of the hassle the others would have had, asking him to vacate it for their meeting. 

Yusuke explains with a flourish that would make most amateur dramatists proud, that the best way to practice is for Goro to draw something on the paper he’s left out, memorize it and then see if he can recreate it. 

Goro thinks this is a good plan, but of course, they spend half the time with Yusuke critiquing his artist skills and imagination as well as attempting to practice using his powers, so it takes them a while to get into the rhythm. 

It’s incredibly strange, when Yusuke uses his powers. His focus becomes absolute, body still as stone, eyes closed and the air seems to dip with the activation of magic. He doesn’t stand near Goro but he feels some invisible presence beside him, tendrils of touch, cool and frozen, that dip cautiously into his mind. He swallows, picturing the duck he’d drawn on the paper, as the faint chill of Yusuke’s magic descends. 

It doesn’t hurt, nor does it feel that intrusive considering he’s poking around in Goro’s mind, but the fact he knows what it is has occurred makes it hard to focus, a slight wondering if Yusuke can fully read his mind. He has to stop himself from thinking about random things which suddenly come unprompted: his mother’s smile, the feel of Shido stealing his breath, the future of killing his first love in ink, Akira’s pleased smile. They all rush through, Goro pushing each one away in favour of focusing on the duck. 

It doesn’t last long, and he feels the moment Yusuke pulls away. Goro watches as he opens his eyes and becomes animated once again, immediately moving to his sketchbook, taking up a pencil. Goro stays silent, watching the lines appear. 

“You had some trouble focusing, but I think I have the basic idea,” he says, and Goro stiffens, wondering what he’s seen. But Yusuke doesn’t comment further, only showing the finished sketch. 

“Similar,” Goro comments, passing his own over so they can compare. 

“Hmm, yes, I see. You are very good at visualising details, but your spatial perception isn’t particularly good. We can work on it,” he adds, probably seeing Goro’s face at the appraisal. 

Yusuke gives him some pointers, but they decide to call it a night, Goro actually surprised by how late it’s gotten, sky deep blue, the lights of the city brewing in their glow. 

“A satisfying beginning. I hope that you were not too uncomfortable with the experience,” Yusuke says as he locks up the studio and they make their way towards their respective homes. 

“It was odd at first, I’m sorry I became distracted,” he says, and Yusuke shakes his head. 

“It’s natural, happens to everyone. With practice, I’m sure we’ll be able to do what we need. Thank you for the time. I’ll see you next week. I’ll show you the temporary exhibition at the centre,” Yusuke says, seeming bright and eager, and Goro waves him off, watching him go for a second. 

He’s half-way back to his hotel when he realises he’s missing his scarf. Which isn’t actually an issue per se, but he doesn’t like the idea of leaving things, and it’s the only one he has, especially as he is going back to the city in the morning. He recalls with some frustration, he last wore it to Leblanc this morning, so he’ll have to double back to the café before his apartment. 

He hopes it’s still open, or Akira is in. He arrives as dusk settles, the backstreets quiet, and grimaces when he sees the sign marked closed. It is fine, he can deal with the chill for a week, or even buy another scarf. He just hates the idea of waste, has never been good at spending frivolously. 

He pulls out his phone as he walks away, composing a message to Akira when the door opens behind him. 

“Did you come for your scarf?” 

He turns, the entryway still dark, Akira’s voice carrying. Before he can say anything, he hears the other laugh lightly. 

“Always so cold. I’ll get it, hang on,” he says, and Goro smiles to himself, walking back over the entrance as Akira disappears into the dark. 

As he approaches the door, the porch light illuminates, and Goro blinks at the unexpected glare, just as he hears Akira curse. As his vision returns, he sees Akira holding his scarf just by the doorway, ahead bent, but despite the obvious way he’s holding himself away from any scrutiny, Goro can clearly see the state of him. 

“What happened?” he says, ignoring all propriety and stepping into the shop. 

Akira sighs, hand holding the scarf falling to his side, not bothering to try and hide the bruises littering his face. Goro closes the door behind him and crosses the space in barely a moment, reaching up without thinking and tilting Akira’s chin to the light. 

He ignores the hitch of breath, he’s sure the slight pressure probably does smart, even though he’s trying to be gentle.  Akira’s face is covered in bruises, his slip split and already healing, tiny cuts adding to the damage. Goro turns his chin slowly, and Akira goes with it, allowing him to see the extent of the injuries. 

It looks all superficial rather than lasting, and much like the split lip, all of the wounds are beginning to heal, the bruises flaring as their colour darkens. Goro exhales, relief pouring through, so much so that his fingers tremble as he moves his hand away from Akira’s face. 

“I’m fine, really,” Akira says, attempting a smile then wincing, and Goro would be tempted to shake him if he wasn’t already so hurt. 

“You’re not, where’s your first aid kit?” Goro says, and Akira looks so surprised he actually laughs, stepping back. Goro almost steps forward, suddenly needing there to be no space between them. 

“I don’t need one,” Akira says, and then holds up his hands as Goro feels his anger rise almost to the point of detonation. 

“Magic remember? I have things that will fix me right up,” he says, and Goro exhales, turning his glare on this extremely stubborn man. 

“Fine, where’s your magical first aid kit?” he snaps, not even caring how absurd he sounds. 

Akira blinks slowly, then walks slowly to the counter, stepping through then making a small huff of protest as he drops down. Goro waits, nerves on edge, until he stands with a small groan, producing a small locked box and waving it in Goro’s direction. 

“Go sit down,” Goro says, marching over and grabbing the box, gesturing towards the booths. 

“Do you...know anything about those,” Akira asks, as Goro opens the box and places it on the table. 

“No, tell me what to use,” he says, and Akira laughs lightly, as Goro stands over him, watching as he picks out bottles, then what looks like bandages. 

“I would argue that I can do it, but I don’t think that will work,” he says, and Goro just gives him a look, and Akira’s mouth pulls up in a smile. 

He quietly directs Goro through what to use, and Goro gently adds a bandage to the worst scrape on Akira’s cheek, then uses an ointment to dab over the cuts. Akira flinches each time, just a slight judder of his body that Goro can only see as he’s up so close. He realises then, he’s never actually taken care of anyone before, isn’t sure he’s doing this right. But he continues, applying just the smallest of pressure, and watches in fascination as the skin knits back together. 

Finally, Akira picks up a small vial of orange liquid, which he downs in one go, grimacing at the taste. Within a moment, the bruises start to fade, and he’s left with skin as pristine as before, minus the one bandage. 

“Good as new. Although I do appreciate the hands-on approach,” Akira teases, and Goro takes a step back, clearing his throat. 

“Bad mission?” he asks, and Akira stretches his neck, eyes closed. Goro watching the movement, somewhat hypnotised. 

“No, got it done. I was testing something, which did work for a while. I just didn’t expect a second ambush,” he says, opening his eyes, which look hazy now that the magic has begun his work. He looks exhausted, and Goro slides down into the booth opposite. 

“Just because you do have healing magic doesn’t mean you should take unnecessary risks,” Goro states, and Akira leans forward. 

“You worry a lot, I can take a few hits,” he says, waving a hand as if to dismiss the conversation. But Goro is not going to let that happen. 

“You say that, but you don’t know which hit will be the one which pushes you over the edge. It’s often not the one which hurts the most,” he says, and Akira eyes him, quiet and serious. 

“Said as if from experience,” he says, an opening which Goro wants to take, but also run from. He settles on something in between. 

“I don’t have your power, or your resources. But I...grew up far to the South, outside of any influence. I know sometimes that small things can take down people unawares,” he says, bitterness creeping in when he thinks of it. 

Rusted nails, a too cold room, a trip on a broken floor. All of those things were the demise of people he knew growing up, more so than the dramatic deaths they assume come with that part of the world. He pushes the past down though, and focuses on here. 

Akira continues to stare, continues to make the moment meaningful, even if Goro would if he could, pull free. 

“I appreciate that. I guess I do take it for granted, even if it’s not as easy as things used to be when I lived in the City.” 

It isn’t truly a surprise for Goro; there’s no point in being banished from a place if you have no ties to it. But to hear it out loud is a different matter. Akira has so far, been more of a mystery, revealing parts that do not add up to a whole, but those pieces in themselves are addictive. He is able to do such strange things, but the how and why is unclear, so any revelation has Goro leaning forward. 

“Although it’s been a while. I was banished nearly four years ago,” he says, which Goro could guess, adds up to the timing of the Thieves activity. 

“What did you leave behind?” Goro asks, and Akira smiles without joy, an expression that Goro wishes he could erase. 

“Everything and well...nothing really,” he does laugh properly at Goro’s annoyed expression, and nods almost in apology before continuing. “My parents, some friends, vague plans for the future. A normal life I suppose,” he says. 

“I wonder what that must be like,” Goro says, not thinking about it, and Akira’s smile this time is true. 

“Yes, who knows. But it doesn’t really matter. As soon as I was banished, all that disappeared. No one’s tried to contact me, bothered to check if I’m okay. No one thinking perhaps a teenager getting banished from their home might be a little extreme,” he says. 

Goro sighs, leaning back. That’s always occurred to him; banishment is a punishment for a reason, and usually means there is a good reason for keeping someone out of a city. 

What though, could a teenager have done to warrant it? 

He doesn’t ask though, there are only so many questions one can with these things, and Goro doesn’t trust his limited social skills to broach the subject. The air between them remains melancholy though, and he finds himself scraping to find a common ground, or at least remind Akira he is not alone. 

“I wish I could leave the city. This is probably as far as I could go. Strange, how I used to watch the lights from where I lived in my old town, wanting a part of what they had. And now, I’d give a lot to go far away,” he says, and Akira’s eyes meet his. 

“What did you leave behind?” he asks, and Goro inhales, smiling at the repetition. 

“No one, really. They were already gone. My mother died when I was young,” he says, keeping the words light despite the fact that by saying it out loud, something inside him rips wide open. 

The pain should have dulled by now, and yet it does not, never has. He keeps it numb and trapped in frozen years, but speaking of it for the first time makes him bleed and gape, a freshness shuddering into the moment. 

Akira seems to sense this, reaching out and moving his hand close to where Goro’s rests, clenched on the table. His eyes follow the movement, but Akira doesn’t fully close the distance. Goro isn’t sure if it’s better this way. 

The problem though, is now he’s started he wants to keep talking, even through the pain, so the words start forming, even while his mind screams warnings about revelations. 

“We didn’t have much before, and there isn’t much in a place like that. I...miss her though. Even now,” he says, and the tips of Akira’s fingers touch his hand. 

“It’s okay to miss people who have gone, especially your mum,” he says, warmth in the words as if he knows how much Goro is flipping between what he thinks he should feel and the years worth of pain still building. 

He clears his throat, trying to disburse emotion lodged there before it can spill too much, focusing on where their hands barely touch. 

“Did she teach you about your power?” Akira asks, and Goro’s head snaps up. 

“No, I didn’t realise I had any until after she died. Only reason I could find a living, I was useful,” he says, the small frown that appears on Akira’s face at that sentence making his stomach turn, so he carries on. “She did own a deck though.” 

“She was a diviner?” Akira says, and Goro shrugs. 

“I’m not sure, actually. But that was my first exposure to magic of any kind. Perhaps she didn’t know, it’s not anything strong,” he says. 

“Or perhaps she didn’t want you to know,” Akira says, and Goro straightens a hush seeming to fall over his mind, Akira sitting up too. 

“I don’t mean that negatively; perhaps she was trying to protect you. But if she was a diviner, or at least knew enough about magic to own a deck, she would be able to see you have a strong power,” he says. 

“You keep saying it’s strong, and I keep telling you it’s not,” Goro snaps, the implications of Akira’s musings already forming threads and connections in the back of his mind. 

“Explain it, then. What is the power, and why is it so weak?” Akira says, voice commanding all of a sudden, Goro finding himself wanting to answer the call. 

He takes a moment though, thinking through firstly what he believes the answer is and secondly if he actually wants to discuss this with Akira. The answer to both comes easier than he imagined. 

“I can tell when someone is...lying. Or having some sort of deception, I believe. It isn’t necessarily something they know of either. Shido’s entire staff have it, while other individuals have their own,” he says. 

“And you don’t think that’s powerful? To see the heart of people and know when they’re being deceived, even if it’s by themselves?” he says, and Goro exhales slowly. 

When said like that, perhaps it does. But the reality is it has not helped him much. He can see Shido’s deception and lies tying everyone up, but he has no power to cut through them, or protect himself from their effects. So what is the purpose of seeing without being able to act?

“Well, if you were one of us, you’d be a powerful member,” Akira teases suddenly, and Goro huffs, standing. 

“I’ve already told you, just because you can see what someone truly wants does not mean you have any right to change their path towards it. So no, I’m not helping you with your methods,” he says. 

“But, you will help me get into the city. What do you think I’m going to do there?” Akira says, standing up too, hands in his pockets as Goro winds his previously forgotten scarf around his neck. 

“I don’t want to know. I will not help you steal hearts, but overcoming a banishment I don’t think you deserved for fifteen hours is...fine. Given you’re helping me. For all I know, you simply want to visit home,” he says, and Akira’s laughs. 

“I must admit, I am curious what some of my favourite places are like now,” he says, a little wistful and lost sounding. 

“What are they? I can try and find out. If I have time, no promises,” he adds as Akira’s face lights up and Goro suddenly wonders why he’s offering to go visit random places for this person. 

Akira waves him off, and when Goro tightens the scarf around him, and finds himself looking back down the street just before he turns right towards his apartment, the light is still on, Akira’s figure outside. He finds himself waving, unsure if anyone can see but the motion seems necessary anyway. 

Yes, the dog park still exists. Stop sending me to random locations

Aww, but don’t you feel better after seeing dogs? 

The answer is of course yes, but Goro is quite frankly too annoyed Akira knew that would make what has been a hideous day slightly better. But tomorrow he begins a different shadowing course, which should curb some of his frustrations. Now if Akira can just stop sending him to strange places, his life will be infinitely better. 

At first, he asks Goro just to check if a few shops are still there, none of which are far out of Goro’s way, so he pops by, snapping pictures. He spends one day off at a large zen garden, Akira giving him directions of the best routes to take, asking him what his favourite part was once Goro gets home. Which is...nice, oddly, that Akira is still being his tour guide even from afar. 

But then, because Akira is at his heart, a little shit, he starts sending Goro to weird places, claiming they’re crucial until Goro gets there. One even included an address that didn’t exist, which had Goro blocking Akira’s number, to absolutely no effect of course, as Futaba can reverse this instantly. 

He in turn starts sharing pieces of his life more with Akira. When he states that the okonomiyaki place Akira sends him to isn’t as good as the one he frequents, it becomes a long discussion about the various places to eat in the city. Akira sends him to play darts just to prove his high score is still in the top ten. Goro spends two weeks playing it after work just so he can snap the photo of beating it. 

There are no mentions from the others of the mission which caused Akira so many wounds, easily healed as they may have been. Goro suspects he hasn’t told them, isn’t even sure they were with him when he tested whatever it was he tried to do. 

“Surely, if you are trying out a new power, you’d have someone around?” Goro asks when he visits Leblanc on one of the few occasions it’s empty other than the two of them. 

Akira sighs, looking at him, and shakes his head. “I don’t bring people with me when I want to try something. But, if it helps, I’ll tell you I’m home safe and sound next time I try,” he says with that thief’s grin, 

Goro’s insides warm at the thought, but he shrugs. “I don’t care what you do, I care that you’ll be dead in a ditch somewhere before you can help me with my curse.” 

It's a lie, and they both know it. Such is the changing nature of their interactions. They’re friends, at least that’s what Goro’s limited experience tells him they are, but it feels as if that word isn’t quite right. There’s an echo, a depth to it, to the level of calm Goro experiences at the sound of Akira’s voice, the way he moves quicker to walk to his side, the way the hours crawl by when he’s in the city. He looks forward to their moments together, however fleeting. He’s never had this type of friendship before. 

He cannot lie to himself: this is more than just a deal. He wouldn’t get asked to go to dog parks, or check in after a mission for the sake of it. He likes Akira, cares about his interests and welfare. It should make it awkward considering what they both need to do, but it doesn’t. 

Which is why Goro calls him without thinking on a Monday night. 

“Are you okay?” Akira asks, answering on the third ring, and Goro realises with a sudden slam of reality that he has never called Akira before. 

“I’m fine, sorry, did I disturb you?” he asks, and there’s a clear exhalation of relief, then muttered voices followed by the closing of a door. 

“No, I’m just clearing up a few things,” he says, and Goro is sure this is probably a lie, but if Akira’s giving it, he’ll take what’s offered. 

Now that he’s here, he wonders what drew him into calling, his memories almost clouded by the way his day has passed, and he can barely recall even dialing Akira’s number. He’s trying to piece an excuse together, in all likelihood about to hang up, when Akira speaks. 

“Isn’t this the first week of your new placement?” he asks, and Goro feels his smile grow just a little, recalling his day. 

“Yes it’s...unexpected. I believe they didn’t know what to do with me for this period, so I’ve been sent to the youth justice department,” he says. 

“And?” Akira prompts, as he can sense how much is brewing in Goro’s mind. 

“They don’t have enough staff and there’s a lot to do, so I’ve been exceptionally busy, but it feels like...it’s one of the few places where things actually work as they’re meant to,” he says, careful not to spell out what he means. 

Akira hums, and Goro takes that as a sign and simply launches into a summary of his days; the things he’s been helping with, the cases he’s seen. It actually feels, even after a short while, like he is upholding the initial want he’s had his whole life. 

For the first time in so long, his life in many aspects feels as if it does have affinity to the Justice card. It isn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but in the hours he spends at work, he can forget about Shido, can forget about curses and deception. Which he didn’t know he so desperately needed, a total refocus on an area which he can make a difference, however small. 

“Maybe that’s where your future career is,” Akira says when he’s done, a simple statement when he’s been speaking for so long that his throat is parched.

“Perhaps,” Goro muses, considering it has been only a few days. “It’s not possible right now, of course,” he says, the slight dark cloud of reality slipping in. 

“We’ll make it possible,” Akira says, with a sudden sharpness that steals Goro’s breath. 

There’s no hint of anything other than determination, no space for doubt. What’s more, it’s directed at his life, nothing to do with their deal or the curse. That in this context is just a starting point; the change can echo across the rest of his life. 

How would it be without Shido? With his control gone, Goro would not only be free to live without the thought of sudden death, but free in all sense. He could travel, he could choose a new career, he could be and do anything. 

He’s never considered it before, but now perhaps there is potential. 

“You continue to surprise me, Akira,” he says, and hears a quiet laugh down the line. 

“I’ll take that as a good thing, not sure you’d still be here if I didn’t pique your interest,” he says, and there’s a note to that which has Goro’s heart racing for some reason. 

“Let’s see how long you can maintain it, I do get bored easily,” he says, and can imagine in that moment, Akira’s smile in Leblanc that he hopes he’s causing. 

“I’m always on top of my game, Goro. I haven’t failed yet,” he says, and Goro shakes his head lying back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. 

The conversation goes on for a while after, cycling through the ins and outs of their days, before Akira yawns, stating he should really lock-up and sleep. Goro turns to the clock then, actually amazed how long they’ve been talking. 

“I apologies, I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time,” he says, noticing how dark it is outside. 

“Not at all, it was fun. You should call again. If you like,” Akira says, hesitant and halting, Goro grinning to himself. 

“If you insist. Good night, Akira,” he says, his tone changing to one he doesn’t think he’s ever used before. 

“Sleep well, Goro,” Akira replies, then the line goes dead, Goro for some reason still holding the phone to his ear. 

He ponders this, once the conversation ends, the rooms so deeply silent without Akira’s voice floating down from miles away. It’s colder too, as if he’s suddenly noticed a chill, and he turns off the lights, needing the comfort of night. 

The window beckons, the lights almost blinding at this angle. Much like when he was a child, Goro stares out, but this time, away, in the direction of a place where the lights are muted, but vivid in their own ways. A place where Akira is locking up, hopefully going to sleep too, considering how he opens the cafe so early. 

When did this person take up so much space in his mind? Akira and Joker, both one and the same, are different sides of the same individual whom Goro keeps returning to as time marches forward. And how does this continue? When Akira achieves whatever he needs to, and Goro is free from his curse, what does this connection become? 

He doesn’t have an answer, and neither do the lights of the city. So he closes his curtains with a jerk of his hand, and goes about his night-time routine. Goro imagines he’ll be up late, thoughts still cycling but his mind is oddly empty, talked out and thought out by his conversation. 

The echo of Akira’s ‘sweet dreams’ follows him down to slumber, a guard and promise he holds onto as he drifts away. 

Chapter Text

Goro’s head aches from the sheer amount of concentration over the last hour, but the rush of success when Yusuke shows him the finished drawing dulls the pain. 

“It looks exactly how I recall it,” he says, and Akira leans over him. 

Goro’s heartbeat trips up then slows, when Akira’s hand touches his shoulder as he braces himself to get a look at the characters on paper. He studies it for a second then turns back, seeming to appraise Goro, eyes unblinking. In response, Goro’s heart starts racing again, the entire interaction strange and unruly. But not bad, not bad at all. 

“Let’s see if it works then,” Makoto says, causing Goro to slam back to reality as she picks up the paper. Akira’s hand falls as he straightens up to turn to her, Goro’s shoulder tingling in its absence. 

They had to choose something neither he nor Yusuke had seen before, which is how Makoto wound up showing him an extremely old summoning charm. She picks up the paper, taps the inscription, and the paper disintegrates, bursting into a thousand tiny pieces. Goro watches, transfixed as the flurry of paper swirls around her hand, then reforms, her hand dropping a little as a paperweight appears. 

“It worked,” Goro breathes, as Makoto smiles looking between them. 

“Excellent work, both of you. It would be good to do another test run, but we’re almost there,” she says, and Yusuke nods. 

“I’d be happy to keep practicing in the meantime,” he says, and Goro agrees, only for Akira to once again place a hand on his shoulder. 

“First, Goro needs food. I can see you have a headache, and I know from experience having someone poking around in your head for hours takes a toll,” he says and pats his shoulder once more before going back to the counter. 

“Ah, yes perhaps we can break for the day,” Yusuke says, as his eyes follow Akira’s movements. 

“You can stay for dinner, Yusuke. You too, Makoto,” Akira says without looking back, and Yusuke smiles, taking a seat opposite Goro. 

“I’m afraid I already have plans with Haru, but I’ll see you all soon,” she says, and Akira manages to talk her into taking a coffee for the journey before she departs with a wave. 

Goro is far more drained than he expected, and sits in relative quiet while Akira cooks and Yusuke regales them both with his current project plans. It’s oddly soothing, combined with coffee which Akira brings, until his signature curry is placed before him. 

“You look exhausted, I fear we may have pushed you too hard,” Yusuke says as Akira drags a chair to the booth and signals them all to start eating. 

“My apologies, it’s been busy at work, it’s no fault of yours,” he says. 

Akira smiles. “Next week is your last in the youth justice department, right?” he says, and Goro nods. Which is conveniently timed seeing as he’ll hopefully have access to the charm they need within the next few weeks, but he will miss what he’s currently doing. 

Akira though, knows this and smiles encouragingly. “I’m sure you’ll be able to work with them again,” he says, and Goro feels himself hesitate before he makes a choice. 

“Actually, there is a job opening. They even encouraged me to apply,” he says, smiling a little, even more so when Akira leans forward, excitement clear. 

“You should apply,” he says, as sure as he is in his Joker guise, and the support cracks something in Goro’s chest, stunned for a moment. 

“You have seemed more focused and happier of late, it seems like a good opportunity,” Yusuke says.

Goro considers before nodding slowly. “I think I will,” he says, softly and almost to himself, focuses on his food, elated and yet unsure of how to proceed in the wake of such clear support. 

He doesn’t know when they all started to cross boundaries into something deeper than contractual obligation, but he still errs on the side of caution. He likes them, all of them in their own ways, but he knows what they have is finite. 

And yet, he’d called Akira to tell him news that had nothing to do with their arrangement. Akira gives him recommendations of things to do in town, easy recipes to try making, and reminds him the very next day to apply for that job. 

He doesn’t know how to categorize this. And usually, he’d been comforted by the fact that all this has an expiration date, but that simply makes him ache. He hasn’t been this affected by the potential loss of another person since his mother, and that fact should force him to stay away, to temper the feelings before they become an issue. 

But he doesn’t. Perhaps as it’s too late, perhaps as it will do no good to back out when they are all so close to their aims. But Goro applies for the job, tells Akira who seems just as happy as he. Akira is also the first person he tells when he gets offered an interview a week later, after his first day in what will be his most important shadowing role. 

“We have many regulations that help defend the city. We’ll show you everything gradually, but you should read up,” the department manager says, before linking him to their archive. 

Goro is honestly surprised. There are a tremendous amount of regulations and magical precautions to backup these rules. He scans through them all before clicking on ‘banishment.’ As expected, the charm is used to nullify its effects, but what surprises Goro is the number of people that have been banished over the years, with an increase year after year. In the last two, they’ve almost doubled. 

Something is clearly not right here. Goro clicks through a few more areas and without fail, they’ve all jumped in number. Goro understands the need for rules and consequences for breaking them, but these numbers would suggest crime is rocketing. And yet the city levels are average, even slightly less than surrounding areas. 

It’s worrying, but Goro doesn’t know what to do with the information. It’s stored officially for anyone to see, not that he thinks people trawl through these data archives. But it seems odd the department at least hasn't started to explore other solutions. 

It doesn’t help that the work is tedious. Goro is immediately relegated to filing, which is a shock to the system after being so hands-on in his youth justice work. Two days in he’s bored out of his mind, having to remind himself he’s there for a reason, craving any distraction. 

Well, almost any. Another summons from Shido is the one thing he doesn’t want but is what he gets. 

This is the most interaction Goro’s ever had with the man in such a short time, and he can’t say he likes it. It’s been a breath of fresh air being able to work out of his immediate orbit, but of course, it did not last. The nerves arise once more as he is called in, and finds Shido this time sitting at his desk, giving Goro an annoyed look despite the fact that he’d been the one to demand the meeting. 

“Sit. We need to discuss your work,” he says.

 Goro frowns as he does as he’s told. “My work? I’ve not been made aware of any issues,” he says, extremely thankful for his ability to hide all emotions under a pleasant façade. 

Shido glares at him silently, then looks back to his computer. “I received word you’d applied for a new job. I don’t know what possessed you to think you could do such a thing, but it’s been denied,” he says.

Goro freezes, hands gripping his knees. “Denied?” he says, unaware the word has even slipped out. 

“Yes. Have you forgotten your place here?” Shido says, focus now entirely on Goro, a hint of steel in his tone, before he continues. “Your job, your life is mine to control. You don’t get to decide to stop doing what I ask of you as you’re bored,” he says.

Goro knows this is dangerous, knows exactly how much control Shido truly has over him, but the anger takes over in a way it’s never done before. “I’m doing nothing in my current job. I’ll still be in the police, it’s no different-”

He cuts off as pain radiates, sudden and bright, body caving in as if to protect itself. His breath stops and he tips forward, clutching at his chest where he knows with horror the feather must be slicing into his heart. His eyes well with tears, the pain so intense that his vision fades. 

He’s going to die. In this office, without anyone knowing where he is. This is where it ends. 

Then as quickly as it appeared, the pain stops. Goro is left gasping, air burning his lungs and to his shame, errant tears falling as he clings onto the desk, heartbeat comfortingly loud and wild in his ears. 

“This is your last chance. Remember what’s at stake. It seems this decision was yours alone, or my curse would have killed you days ago. You cannot plot against me. And I decide what to do with you,” Shido says, as Goro heaves in air desperately. 

Shido ignores him then, and Goro is forced to spend a few humiliating moments sitting, gathering himself until he can rise to his feet, his body still protesting. He stumbles out, and Shido doesn’t even spare him a glance as he leaves, utterly done with the conversation. 

He leaves the town hall but ends up sitting on the bottom-most step, staring blankly at the road before him, still rubbing a hand along his chest. With some distance from the incident, he’s no longer sure if the curse had been activated at all; judging by what Shido said, probably not, and the action was just simply done to hurt and terrifying. 

Which had worked, too well. Goro closes his eyes, feels the wind on his face and forces himself to try and calm. But he can’t. His body shakes, his mind spins and no part of him wants to come down to earth. 

He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t go back to work, there’s no part of him that will be able to stomach being there, and home to the silence seems even worse. Part of him thinks if he sits here any longer he’ll simply shatter, dissolve into the mess of pain and tears he experienced moments ago, and he needs to be able to pull himself together enough to not give in. 

There is somewhere else you can go , his mind reminds him, and an instant comfort flowing with the realisation. He pauses though. It could be dangerous; Shido could be monitoring him more closely in the wake of this, which could potentially lead him to the Thieves when they’re so close to relieving him of his curse. 

But, he is due to go back there tomorrow. It’s just a day early. He’s sure they can pull together an excuse to mean he had to come tonight, seeing as Shido’s issue was with the youth justice job and not his out-of-town travel. 

It’s risky. But Goro thinks it’s probably worth it, and makes a split decision before he has the chance to regret it. 

He tries to call Akira twice before he gets to his car, but he doesn’t pick up. Goro almost considers giving up then, but instead puts on his car headset and starts driving. The thought of giving up now seems impossible. 

As he drives he calms; the way the road moves predictably, the concentration necessary, helps divert some of the energy. It helps, but he knows as soon as he’s free from the car, it will all tumble out, today too much for him to truly absorb. The sky darkness and evening falls as he makes his way into the town, parking at the apartment. 

Akira hasn’t called him back, but the buzz is still in his veins. He thinks about calling one of the others, maybe Ann or Yusuke, when he decides to try just one more time. It rings and rings again, Goro lost in the sounds so much he doesn’t fully register when the phone clicks. 

“Hey, Goro.” 

Akira’s voice is breathless, as if he’s been running which he’d normally comment on, but for now, he’s too caught up. 

“Are you busy?” he says, urgent and frantic, and he hears Akira’s breath sharpen. 

“No, did something happen?” he says, and Goro almost laughs at the absurdity of the question. 

“Yes. I’m here. In town,” he says, and once again there's a silence as Akira adjusts. 

“I just got home, I can come over if you give me half an hour,” he says finally, and Goro thinks frantically that half an hour with nothing to but wait might break him. 

“Or you can come here,” Akira says, as if reading Goro’s mind and he sags in relief, hand coming to his forehead as he closes his eyes. 

“Thank you, Akira. I’ll be there shortly,” he says, and hangs up before he says anything else. 

He just breathes for a moment, trying to get his body to remember how to move, before he gets out of the car slowly. He can walk to Akira, which will take up some time, enough to ensure Akira has time to prepare for his abrupt visit, and steady him into not falling to pieces on arrival. Although considering his frantic calls and appearance, any true sense of calm is probably impossible. 

Walking does help though. Much like the familiar drive and the roads he’s walked many times before, it helps his heart to beat a normal rhythm. His hands stop shaking as he turns into the side streets, and the mellow light from the windows of Leblanc a homing beacon. 

The door of the café opens before Goro can second guess this thought, Akira’s mess of hair the first thing he sees. 

“Come on in,” he says, and then vanishes back inside, allowing Goro to take his time. 

Inside, the smell of coffee hits, and Akira is already seated at a booth, two steaming cups set out. Goro smiles a little, suddenly tired from the rush of the past few hours, as he heads over. 

Akira says nothing, pushing his hair back from his face, which Goro notices is a little damp, curling more at the ends with the weight of the water. He snaps himself back from staring, feels his mouth run dry, and takes a delicate sip of the coffee. It immediately helps; the perfect hint of bitterness underneath the sweet additions, mellowing him out and giving him a slight foothold of energy. Exactly what is needed to push him forward. 

“I’m sorry for appearing so suddenly, and for taking up your evening,” he begins. 

Akira looks up, tilts his head with a small smile. “It’s fine, I was worried when I heard your voice.” 

Goro grimaces, can still feel that crushing, half-terror of having nowhere to escape to, but it’s dimmed being right here, right now. He takes another sip of coffee in an attempt to ground himself. 

“I didn’t mean to worry you. I...well, had some bad news and needed to run. Or drive, I suppose,” he says. 

Akira nods. “You’re always welcome, I toId you that. And I understand that feeling,” he says, and then looks to Goro as he quietly sips his own coffee. 

He’s not pushing, nor is he waiting for Goro to speak. The space is simply open if he chooses to, the option entirely his. The sentiment makes his throat catch, the fact that he has an actual choice today cracking something deep and half-buried, the release sending words across the void, almost unstoppable. 

“Shido is my father. And he’s cursed me, as you’re aware. I didn’t even know who he was when I first met him, and he did this to me. Now he controls everything as my life is the price,” Goro says, clutches at his coat, dragging the fabric in place of pulling the feather from his heart. 

Akira’s eyes are wide behind the glasses, shocked and mouth set in a hard line. “Your father?” he whispers. 

Goro laughs, shaking his head. “Apparently. Not that I cared, my mother told me nothing of him before she died. I’m sure she was running from him. As soon as he found out about me, he engineered for this to occur.” 

Akira exhales, and reaches out, gripping Goro’s hand where it rests on the table. He doesn’t start, although the warmth blooms comfort, traveling through his arm and inside, making it easier to breathe. He squeezes back, just once. 

“Why did he curse you, Goro?” he says, a gentle push that Goro doesn’t need. 

“Control. That’s all he wants, control of everything. I had no interest in his world but if I ever were to cross him with intent, it would activate.” He inhales once, then looks to Akira, for the first time in his life not wanting to stop himself from talking truths. “If I plan to work against him, I will die.” 

“A death curse,” Akira says, his voice blade-sharp, a tone Goro’s only heard in those times as Joker. 

“I assume that is bad?” he says, resigned and knowing. 

Akira lifts up Goro’s hand as he leans forward, a seemingly natural gesture, eyes telling he’s clearly thinking, drawing his body forward to rest on his elbows, and capturing Goro’s hand between both of his. Goro in response can hear his pulse drumming in his ears, almost blocking out what Akira says next. 

“They take a lot of magic. I wouldn’t have thought one person could just dole them out on a whim. And they’re just...wrong. To put someone’s life on a condition. What did he use as the talisman to bind you?” 

“A feather. A black one,” Goro says. 

Akira exhales. “Okay, that’s not as bad as it could be. We can work with that,” he says, almost to himself, clearly piecing the magic together. 

Goro though, shakes his head. “How exactly? Any attempt to remove the curse is going to alert Shido, which will trigger it. I imagine attempting to remove it counts as working against him.” 

Akira squeezes his hand. “We’ll work it out.” 

But that energy from before rises, and he rips his hand from Akira’s grasp, standing in one motion, twisting away. Pacing seems like the only option now, to prevent himself from totally giving into any hopelessness. He has not come this far to be defeated today, but also has no interest in hearing platitudes. 

“His entire aura is wrapped in deceit, it taints everything in the city. And he’s expanding. He talked about this town, putting it under his influence.” 

Akira stands up, clearly about to speak, but Goro is not done. 

“He took away my job. He has me under his control and it’s not just me. Year by year he’s tightening his control over everyone-”

“Goro,” Akira tries barely registering. 

“Banishments, regulations, harsh sentences for small infractions, they just keep happening! And no one can do anything, no matter what we try he gets in the way-” 

“Goro!” Akira calls voice loud and commanding, the change in tone shocking, but not as shocking as the fact that Akira is holding onto his shoulders, entirely in his space. 

The fact he can count Akira’s eyelashes, feel the individual flex of his fingers digging into his shoulders, can see just where his lip chaps a little, right in the centre, is disarming and enchanting in the same second. 

“We will fix this. I will fix this. I promise you,” Akira says, steadily, ever the leader. 

“Don’t make false promises,” Goro warns. 

“Don’t underestimate me,” Akira says, eyes silver-rimmed. 

“You’d actually have to impress me for that,” Goro says, and it’s the last thing he manages to articulate before the kiss. 

Goro’s never kissed anyone before. Isn’t even sure he’s kissing Akira or if Akira’s kissing him, there is a blankness of time that occurred before the sensation of this very moment. Akira’s hands have moved to cup his cheeks, fingers trembling in a way which Goro knows, without understanding how, is in holding back and not out of hesitancy. 

Goro is not a fragile thing. He doesn’t need to be treated like glass. So he throws his everything into motion, his body and this fantastical build of energy that seems to have no way of escaping except in touch and taste, needing more. More of what he isn’t sure. The kiss, even with no experience he can tell, is not the best. Akira gasps a little when Goro catches his lip with teeth, but kisses ever harder on the return. Their mouths don’t match, too fast and too long, chasing and catching, but always returning. 

Goro doesn’t know what to do with his hands, too focused on the sudden sensation of tongues and open mouths as Akira slowly deepens the kiss, so Goro ends up grabbing onto Akira’s waist, and dragging him forward. Akira grins, stumbling a little, laughing into the kiss, which makes Goro just need to kiss him harder, as Akira’s hands move to card through his hair softly. 

There’s levity, buoyancy. Goro never imagined kissing could be fun in the same way that it conveys so much, clicks so many things into place. He manages to get his body moving, guides Akira around, who goes willingly, a thrill in itself. He ends up pushing Akira slightly too hard against the counter, and he almost breaks to apologize, except Akira actually moans, a quiet rumble in his throat, and curls a hand delightfully around Goro’s neck. 

It’s warm, Akira’s body and their shared heat, the kiss finally gaining rhythm as Goro settles, leaning into Akira, almost crowding him against the counter, which Akira seems to like by the way he clings on, pulls Goro to him. It feels too good to be true, that all those needs to see Akira, to be in his presence, to seek him out from all others, finally make sense. It’s more than friendship, more than a connection made from deals, deeper and stronger than a simples fascination, it’s-

You will kill your first love.

Crimson words on paper appear in his vision and Goro disengages, throws himself back with such force that his back hits the booth. Akira stares, chest heaving, looking surprised and wary, still against the counter. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Goro says, still spinning a little. 

He’s not in love with Akira. He’s not. He’s...he’s something but this doesn’t count, it can’t count. 

“I need to leave,” he says, abruptly shutting out any thought or consequence. 

At this, Akira straightens quickly, moving forward. “You don’t need to. We should...we should talk about this-” 

“No, we shouldn’t. This was a mistake,” he says.

He expects a recoil, Akira to back down and flinch away, but he doesn’t, just straightens up slightly and meets Goro’s gaze. 

“No, it wasn’t. I don’t know what you're trying to do, but you’re a terrible liar,” he says. 

Before Goro can construct an argument in defence, considering that he is, in fact, a very good liar, couldn’t have gotten this far without being so, Akira turns away, playing with the ends of his hair. 

“But I won’t stop you leaving if you need to.” 

Goro doesn’t know why that hurts, why he aches even as he stumbles towards the door. He cannot go back, cannot return to previous minutes, and isn’t even sure he wants to. But leaving is also not the path he wishes for. Another moment where he’s struck with no choice. 

“Goro.” 

He turns back as Akira calls his name, looking tired as he tries for a smile that doesn’t fully form. 

“If you do want to talk about it, I’ll be here. I don’t regret kissing you, and I know it’s not a mistake. You aren’t a mistake, to me. But it’s up to you,” he says, voice sad as if he knows the outcome. 

Goro doesn’t trust himself to do anything but flee. All he’s doing is running these days, his world veering from hopefully to desolate. He walks into the night, eyes burning from what he tells himself is the sudden change of temperature. 

He’s never felt like this over another person before. He thinks though, a concept of love is so universal, he’d know its appearance. So this can’t be love. What it could be, perhaps, it’s its prelude, which would put him in a dangerous situation were he to continue down this route. Which is why he needs to walk away, sever this tie before it becomes a noose around Akira’s neck. 

He will not damn them both by becoming a killer over a few sentimental thoughts and kisses. No matter how sweet the moment, he must stay strong. He will never fall in love, and this is proof. He hasn’t fallen for Akira, and now he never will. He will fight his fate and defy these chains he’s held under, by Shido and society both. 

He just wishes, as he swipes at the blur in his vision, it wasn’t taking his whole self to do it. 

The world keeps turning. Goro continues with his duties, continues to fall in line while helping the Thieves with their plan, but the distance between him and Akira is obvious. No one mentions it, but he can see it in their glances, in the few moments he’s seen quiet mutterings between them all. It’s apparent something has changed. 

It’s for the best though. Goro has been so caught up that he forgot their alliance only lasts until they get what they want. There is no place for him among them, even less so than before. His conversations with Akira dwindle to the occasional sharing of small talk and what is necessary with their plan. No more pictures, no more sending Goro to his favourite places. And Goro tells himself, night after night, he’s doing the right thing. 

It doesn’t make him feel any better though. Pathetic, the moment he’s given a little companionship and he caves, needing it more now he’s had a simple taste. Goro should be stronger than this, considering everything he’s been through to get here. His objective has always been removing his curse, taking down Shido, and making sure true justice is served. Sentimentality is just a distraction. 

So he distances himself as much as he can while playing both sides, keeping it together for the days that roll by, until he’s told he’ll be allowed to visit the charm vault. He sends a message to Akira, but it’s Yusuke he calls. 

“Just focus on the lines and space, Goro. You’ll be fine,” he says. 

Goro isn’t entirely sure he knows what lines and spaces mean, but he only has five minutes more of his lunch break before he has to go in. 

“It’s no different than we have done before. Are you sure you will be able to come tonight?” he says. 

They decided it was easier for Goro to meet Yusuke as soon as he’s seen the charm in person, as fresh in his mind as can be. “I’ll call in sick tomorrow, it will be fine,” Goro says. 

“Well then. I’ll expect you at the studio. Thank you, Goro. This truly means a lot to Akira. To all of us.” 

Yusuke hangs up and leaves Goro to his thudding heart and crumbling resolve. His hand reaches up unbidden, traces his lips in search for a mark or brand of their kiss, an etched memory to get him through the next second that inexplicably feels like drowning. 

It passes though, and he drops his hand, air coming free and fast. He hates being caught in these moments, in these sudden lows that fall without warning. 

Caring for another is more tiresome than he ever imagined. 

He settles himself; it will ruin months of planning if he doesn’t get his shit together and study this charm, so he has to get control. If there’s one thing Goro is good at, it’s regaining control of disastrous situations, and his nerves will not fail him now. 

As ever, Goro is able to talk himself back up from a situation, and dutifully follows his team lead to the charm vault. 

“You’ll need to scan your ID to enter, we record everyone who goes in and out to avoid any issues,” he says. 

The hair on Goro’s neck stands on end, but he ignores the feeling. “Do issues happen?” he asks, hoping for innocence and not overly curious. 

However, the lead shakes his head. “Nah, it’s an old system. Most of us need access fairly frequently, and if you’re with one of us it’s fine.” 

Goro is relieved at least it doesn’t seem like he’ll be the number one suspect, especially as they’re still just piling their paperwork on him. There are cameras by the door and a bored-looking security personnel who barely even looks up from their book as they enter. However, they do get scanned, and have to hand over their phones. No chance of taking a photograph, not that Goro banked on that. 

The room is, to his surprise, more like a library than an actual vault, rolling stacks occupying every inch of the room. It is generally fascinating, shelves of charms just waiting to be activated, sealed tight away from misuse. Goro can’t help but smirk to himself at the knowledge he’ll be subverting that. 

“Take a look around, ask any questions. There’s a reference guide on that terminal,” the team lead says, then settles himself into a chair, clearly not intending to monitor Goro’s every move. 

“Of course. Is there anything I should take note of?” he says, ever the helpful student. 

“Any of the ones we have you filing reports for. I think we’ll get you to assign a few next weeks, so you should know where they are.” 

Goro tilts his chin as if trying to recall. “Okay, I’ll focus on curfew, restraint, banishment and any general monitoring I can find?”

The team lead nods, smiling. “All are cases we have, so go ahead. Shout if you have any questions.” 

Goro exhales as he turns, firstly going to the terminal and locating all the charms mentioned. The system is strange, but it only takes him a few mistakes to understand, and that way he pulls out each charm in turn. 

He asks a few basic questions of his team lead, who is happy to answer, seemingly content that Goro is absorbing the information. He spends a little time with each charm until finally, he pulls out the banishment template. It’s simple in many ways, a few flowing lines of patterns, the spell text in the centre, with a gap where the name would flow into the spell. Without the name and the correct spell components, it will not work. 

He stops that train of thought, focusing instead on his task. He remembers the tips he and Yusuke have worked on all these weeks, and commits the lines and text to memory, before closing the stacks and straightening his tie. 

“I think I’ve seen them all, thank you,” he says. 

The team lead stands. “Great, let’s go.” 

Easy as that. Well, hopefully, if Goro can remember. He stays the remaining hour of work, then leaves, mentioning he has a headache for goodwill, before getting in his car and driving straight to the abandoned studio. 

“Right on time, thank you for this,” Yusuke says in greeting. 

“Let’s get on with it,” Goro replies as they sit down, already starting to feel as if he’s forgotten parts of the charm in the hours between. 

Yusuke though settles before him, waving his arms in what is meant to probably be a calming motion, but ends up being more majestic attempts at flailing, leaving Goro utterly bemused. 

“We’ve had excellent results every time, I have utter faith in our skills. Now. Breathe with me,” he says, inhaling audibly. 

When Goro does nothing, Yusuke glares. “We will not move on until you breathe with me.” 

Goro submits himself to some breathing exercises he’d rather not ever take part in again, but Yusuke is finally satisfied. He sits down before Goro, who closes his eyes, ready for the chilled touch. He’s no longer shocked by the feel of Yusuke’s magic, it’s almost comforting in its familiarity. Goro conjures the image of the charm; the way he’d memorize each section, as well as its look as a whole, hoping to give the best impression. 

Sooner than he’s expecting, Yusuke pulls back, and Goro is hit by sudden exhaustion. He yawns, eyes flickering and, realises several hours have gone by. 

“My sketch is complete, thank you Goro. I will work on perfecting the charm tonight and tomorrow. I’ll suggest to Akira we meet in two days,” he says, standing slowly. 

Goro mimics the movements, glad he does not stumble. “You are satisfied?” 

Yusuke stares at the sketch, then nods slowly. “I believe this should work. Please don’t worry,” he adds. 

“I’m not,” Goro retorts, although he is, a lie they both see through. 

“Will you be alright to drive?” Yusuke asks, and Goro dismisses his concerns, knowing he’ll be alert enough to get back to his apartment. 

Faking illness turns out for the best, as Goro is a useless mess for the next day; whether through the magic or stress of the build-up to this day, he sleeps most of it away, headache not helping matters. But he still catches the message from Akira asking for his presence at Leblanc the following evening. 

Goro can’t say he’s elated about being here, despite the knowledge that, as long as Yusuke has been able to complete the sketch, he will have completed his part of the bargain. He should be looking forward to it, to having played his part, and even if he’s feeling charitable, to the success of the Thieves endeavour in the City. 

But he winds his way to Leblanc with trepidation, every step falling heavy and echoing in his mind, the knowledge he’s walking towards an ending. He finds himself taking in the sights, the way the wind blows the leaves, the way his eyes pick out darkened shapes, knowing them all with a familiar security he doesn’t have at home. 

He will return here. He still has his curse to be removed and yet...he is certain that this in an end. Goro stops suddenly, just before Leblanc, having to inhale against a sharp pain in his heart. For a moment, he panics, thinks of Shido but his breath comes to him. It’s not the curse but emotions, feelings, worse things than any sort of magic. 

Goro’s heart still hates to lose people, no matter how many feathers it’s pierced with. 

But he forces himself onwards, enters the café with his practiced smile, Futaba raising her hands at his arrival. 

“Alright, let’s do this! Inari, show us the goods,” she says, turning to an exhausted looking Yusuke who is slumped on a booth. 

“Evening Goro,” Akira says, rounding the counter and giving him a look which even Goro can interpret as fond. 

It makes him need to swallow. Not a good sign. 

“Good evening. Yusuke, how are you feeling?” he says, ignoring Akira as much as he can. 

Yusuke looks at him, blinks hard as if Goro may simply be a vision, and then smiles. “Well, thank you. For behold!” 

With a flourish of sudden energy, he whips out a parchment from somewhere, and Goro stares in awe at the creation. It looks precisely like he recalls the charm, every detail in place. Akira hums while Futaba stares at it closely. 

She looks to Goro. “Wow, look at you, a real Phantom Thief.” 

Goro bristles. “I am absolutely not.” 

“I don’t know, this is stealing magic,” Akira chimes in, the teasing for some reason causing a flush to burn across Goro’s neck. 

Akira doesn’t linger at the moment though. “All it needs is a signature. I’ll do it,” he says before either of his friends can protest. 

Goro watches as Akira’s eyes seem to sharpen with quicksilver, and there’s a pulse of power. When it fades, there in magical lettering is Akira Kurusu, and the three exchange a look. 

“Only one way to find out if it works. But I trust you both,” he says. 

Goro wants to protest, a little unnerved that Akira has no plan other than simply walking into the city, but Yusuke nods. 

“I am sure we will be fine. We’re prepared?”

Akira hesitates, looking across to Goro. He frowns, turning away for a moment. Of course, he’d insisted on not knowing their plan, not caring at the time as long as he got what he needed from the bargain. 

But what does he need now? The curse removed of course, and yet-

He freezes as he’s suddenly crushed by strong arms, unexpected touch making his hair stand on end. 

“You did it! We’ll have to have a celebration, right?” Futaba yells into his back as she grips him with surprising strength. 

Akira, who has managed to move so he’s within Goro’s eye line, chuckles. “Yes, once that curse is removed, we’ll have lots to celebrate.” 

“You have an idea for that?” Goro asks, hope flying high at both the idea and the potential of their deal being equal. 

Akira’s face turns serious. “I do. I’ll need help, Haru for sure, and possibly some of the others… but I think I know a way through it,” he says. 

“Then our deal is almost done,” Goro says, but hates how Akira’s smile wavers. 

“Goro.” 

He turns to face Yusuke who stands, legs wobbling a little, Futaba letting go of him to fuss under her breath before he bows low. “Thank you. Without your aid, this could never have been done.” 

“You don’t even know if it works yet,” Goro says, a little unnerved at the politeness if he’s honest. 

“I have every faith in you. We all do,” Yusuke says, straightening up. 

Goro finds it hard to meet the eyes of the other two, all of them looking back with the same elated, thankful expressions. He mutters something, but soon Futaba is pulling on his arm again, forcing him to stay for curry, even if Goro's instinct is to fly. 

It’s a short evening, as Yusuke falls asleep in his meal several times, and soon enough, Goro is promising to escort him back to his lodgings. 

“Hey,” Akira says softly before he can fully put on his coat as Futaba has Yusuke’s attention. 

“Yes?” Goro says, trying for formal, hoping Akira cannot hear his heartbeat, even if to him it is deafening. 

“You… are always welcome here. That hasn’t changed. And once we’re done in the City, I promise we’ll lift your curse. I owe you,” Akira says. 

“You do. Good luck with your plans,” Goro says, choosing to ignore the first part but Akira grins as he’s forgotten even mentioning it. 

“Thank you. Get home safe,” he says, and as he does, his hand reaches out, one finger tracing a line from wrist to hand, Goro’s whole body lighting up from the epicentre of that one touch. He has to turn away; he’s never been so aware of his skin against another’s, despite the fact they’ve touched far more than this. 

And that’s it. He spares Akira a small wave of his hand before they part, Akira smiling softly, carefully as he does. Goro is tempted to turn, to run back and slam him against the wall, kiss that smile until they’re both unable to breathe. Wants to demand Akira tell him what he’s going to do, what’s worth risking his life for if the charm doesn’t work. 

But Goro doesn’t. He plays his part and defies fate, refuses to damn Akira with the potential of making this any worse. Besides, Goro isn’t even sure he’d be any good at a relationship. 

“Ridiculous,” he says to himself, Yusuke giving him an odd look as they part ways, and rightly so. Goro’s imagining the what-ifs that can never be of a person he’s only kissed once. He’s not such a love-sick fool. Not love-sick at all, he reminds himself. 

All he’ll need to do now is wait. Carry on, and wait. 

Waiting is fucking awful. 

Haru filed a report stating his work with them is temporary on hold, and so he’s back in the City full time. He spends another week working in the charm department, mercifully thankful when that placement is over so he can stop doing admin. At least Sae seems to have missed him, just in terms of having a sensible person to talk through their cases. 

“Although there isn’t much, at least nothing is going to trial,” she says, with clear frustration. 

Goro though is happy for some normalcy as the weeks pass. At first, the vacuum of the Thieves is plain in all he does, from the lack of conversation to the terrible meals he continues to eat. Initially, he searches for news of them, wondering if they’ve fulfilled their plan, wondering what they could be doing to cause them to go completely dark on him. But there’s nothing at all. 

So Goro picks up terrible coffee day after day, which he drinks with budding enjoyment, taste buds going backward with his lack of Leblanc coffee, and starts to let everything dim. He recalls the kiss in terrifying detail, but as the weeks pass, even that fades away, surrendered to what he thinks must be sweetness which never really existed. It cannot have been as delightful as his memory of the evening. 

“Let’s break the day up, we’re needed at city hall,” Sae states on a Thursday morning, as Goro sips the last of his coffee. 

“We are?” he says, trying not to get too excited about the prospect of doing something. 

Sae smiles knowingly. “I can’t promise we’ll get what we need, but a trial I did last year is going back to court. The records are stored at City Hall. I’ll drive, and we can get better coffee on the way back. 

“Excellent,” Goro says, glad for any distraction. 

The journey is packed with traffic, and Goro feels mild discomfort as they enter City Hall, but they stay on the ground floor office areas, helped out by a clerk. Still, Goro has to stop himself from focusing on the aura of those around him, all tainted by Shido’s magic, even if the man himself is away in his own office. 

It’s just as they’re waiting for the documents to be printed, that the power cuts out. There’s a collective murmuring, staff looking away from their computers, but less than a moment afterward, the lights hum back to life, printer spitting out their documents, computer screens lighting up. Goro happens to be looking at one of the television screens suspended near the middle of the room when it happens, meaning he catches the flickering motions a moment before the voice rings out. 

City Hall, you have been tainted by the magic of a man who aims to control your souls. His evil has spread far and wide, his corruption clear in those around him. But do not fear, we the Phantom Thieves are here to save the day! 

“What?” Sae hisses next to him as Goro freezes. 

Masayoshi Shido is using his magic to manipulate the population, cover corruption and expand his powers over the borders of the city. He works against the Council of Magic, subverting their aims for his own gain. Many have been accused of crimes they did not commit, forced to do his bidding, all in the aim of allowing him to take control of the nation. But we will not stand for it. 

“It’s being broadcast across the nation!” someone hisses, and Goro finds himself pulling out his phone, news app alerts telling him this is truly not a hoax. 

There’s a flicker on the screen and there, in shadow are the familiar forms of the team. Joker in the centre smirks, clear despite the attempts at hiding their identities, the whole room gasping, people leaning forward to catch a glimpse. 

Fear not! We are here to take his heart of greed and malice. Please stay calm and evacuate in an orderly manner. We are only here for Shido, and will make sure you all stay safe. 

As the sentence is said, the emergency exit doors light up, and there’s barely a beat before people start to move. It’s hurried, but not panicked, all of them too stumped, working on autopilot as they navigate towards the exit. 

“We need to make sure these people get to safety,” Sae says, and Goro snaps back to reality, turning to her. 

“Yes.  They have no intention of harming them, but-” 

“Exactly. There will be reinforcements arriving, so we should stay clear unless we’re called for. We aren’t the front line,” she reminds him, and Goro nods. He has no weapon on him anyway, hasn’t been issued one, and while Sae may have one, she has no authority to use it unless things become a problem. 

So instead they focus on shepherding people out. They make sure they are the last ones to leave the floor, then follow the crowd. The emergency exit leads them down two floors, back to the same level as the entrance, escaping around the side. 

Goro holds the door open, catching glimpses of the outside, as Sae calls in their position. She listens carefully on the phone, a makeshift radio as she connects with what’s happening. He can’t see any of the Thieves from here, and yet everyone seems to be forming clear lines outside, as if there is someone directing them just out of his eye line. 

“Goro,” Sae says suddenly, just as the last few people trail outside. He favours them all with a smile, but once they are safely gone, she runs to him. 

“There are people trapped in the entrance hall. Here, they’ve authorised you to take my spare,” she says, handing over a pistol. 

Goro takes it without words, hoping she cannot hear his heart beat loudly. He’s never used one officially, although he has no hesitation if it comes to it. He lets the emergency exit door close and she nods in the other direction. 

“This way. Most of the security is gone, probably a planned move. We may need to intervene.”

Goro follows as they cautiously make their way toward the doors on the other side of the stairwell, which automatically opens. As they do, a lone security guard signals to them, and they follow into the shadows. 

“Stand back. Some of the Thieves have entered, but the Mayor isn’t allowing his staff to leave,” he says as neutrally as possible. 

Goro finds his hold on the gun tightening as they look around. There in the centre of the room, stands his father, smiling serenely, with five staff members around him. Goro recognises his secretary, who he can see even from a distance, is crying. The others look in no better shape, huddling together. 

He can see two more security guards on the other side of the room, and the glass doors of the entrance seem to have been frosted over, some sort of magical barrier. But he can vaguely see blue lights flashing, police already on the scene, yet clearly not wanting to burst in. 

Goro focuses back on the room. Facing Shido are Fox, Panther, Noir, and right in the centre, Joker. Goro feels his breath catch as he takes in the stand-off. The charm has clearly worked, but of all the things he had imagined it would be, having them steal Shido’s heart is not what he would have guessed. He knows firsthand exactly how dangerous he is, had told Akira as much. And yet, here they are. It is not for him, he isn’t as arrogant to believe that, but the fact that their goals were tied all along almost makes him want to fall to the ground in laughter.

Perhaps Goro is starting to believe in fate. 

But there’s no use for such words now as the air in the room remains tense. Joker is utterly still, his face blank and without flare, so clearly the situation must be serious. As Goro looks, Panther steps forward. 

“Just let them go! They’re innocent in this,” she yells, voice carrying powerfully. 

Shido spreads his hands out wide. “They are, indeed. You are the ones who have caused this. Leave your weapons and face judgment,” 

“Your judgment is not to be trusted! You’ve barred the exit, you’re using people as human shields. Let them go,” Noir calls, her voice level and heavy, sending a shiver across Goro’s spine. 

So the entrance is Shido’s doing. Not good. Goro glances at Sae, who signals at the guard, and they all lean closer. 

“Our instructions are to focus on evacuation. Do not engage the Thieves or Shido,” she says, and Goro is more than happy to do that. He knows what side he’ll be rooting for. 

The security guard seems to be relieved by the comment, set up to stop nuisance intruders rather than full-scale attacks, and slowly, they move forward. Goro is not sure this will go unnoticed by Shido, even if they are hidden from the Thieves’ view, considering how powerful he is. But the closer they get, the easier this will be. 

Shido however, steps forward. “I recognise you,” he says, and as he moves, he grabs his secretary’s arm, pulling her forward. Goro tenses as she screams, falling to the ground, Shido continuing to move forward, dragging her along. 

He’s talking to Joker, Goro realises after a moment, who is still silent and rigid, clearly taking this more seriously than ever. Slowly though, his hand reaches up, and to Goro’s shock, he removes the mask. 

There’s silence for a moment, before Shido begins to laugh, the sound making Goro’s insides turn to lead, even as his fury rises. 

“You, who tried to get in my way once. Well, you got past my banishment, I wonder how. Looks like I’ll have to kill you this time.” 

In a blur of motion, Joker snaps his mask back on, and his team tenses. Goro finds himself doing so in the same movement, the way they all connect surely means-

“Something’s coming,” he whispers to Sae, and not a moment too soon. For a moment later the Thieves all jump, just as the mist blasts through the room. 

Goro covers his eyes, as screams echo, blinking in confusion. Although the mist is thick, he can actually see shadows through, odd considering the lighting in here shouldn’t allow this. 

“Auras...I can see them,” he says, turning to Sae, who blinks back then nods. 

“I’ll follow you,” she says. 

It’s all he needs. Goro runs, Sae quickly on his heels, and barrels towards a cluster of three shapes. The mist clears, as they do, parting so he can see three of the employees huddled together. They cower initially, but look up when they see familiar faces. 

“Side exit, this way,” says Sae, and Goro looks up to see another shape not too far away. 

“Chiyo ran,” says one man, seeing his look, and Goro nods. 

“I’ll meet you there,” he says to Sae, who hesitates but then agrees, helping the others to their feet. 

He can sense Shido’s aura to his left, pulsing with deceit and lies, but there are no signs of the Thieves, which is why it’s a shock when he reaches the woman to find Ann already helping her up. 

“Goro? What are you doing?” she says, voice turning worried. 

“Happened to be here when your plan started,” he says, assisting her. 

Ann looks over her shoulder, then back to Goro eyes wide through the mask. “You need to run, it’s not-” 

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her warning though, as Goro’s senses are thrown off balance; the world tips, almost slowly as mist engulfs, and his vision waivers for a moment, then sudden pain rocks through the left side of his body. He gasps, a clattering sound indicating the gun has fallen from his hand, even as the world bursts in a pallet of clashing colours, nausea rising in his throat. 

Slowly, it clears, a headache replacing it. He’s on the floor now, the mist cleared. He cannot see Ann, she must be behind him, so he attempts to turn over. 

But he can’t move. 

He strains his muscles, tries to force his body to comply, but nothing happens. His breathing picks up, fear coursing. He tries again and again, to move an arm, his head, a leg, but nothing happens. 

“Nice try, a good diversion,” Shido’s voice calls, and Goro turns back to face forward. 

He stands in the centre of the room, suit ripped and a heavy pressure descending from him. He grins maniacally, facing Akira, who sits on the floor head bowed, mask broken before him. He too, doesn’t move, and Goro winces as the pressure on his limbs increases. 

Shido’s power flares across the room. Goro looks past him to see Noir on the floor on the other side, face down and not moving. He cannot see Sae and the others, a small flicker of hope passing through that they may have escaped. Yusuke is also missing, although like Ann, perhaps he’s behind Goro. 

“Your little changes of heart may work on lesser beings, but not on me. I am in control. This world is my domain, and I will do with it as I please,” Shido says, walking to Akira, smile sickening. 

He towers over him, before he looks around the room slowly, surveying the mess and status of all left in. Another security guard is pinned to a wall, Goro notices, but his nerves start to rise as Shido’s gaze moves evenly around the room and ultimately falls on him. 

His eyebrows raise. He pauses, then shakes his head. “Goro Akechi. I thought I’d warned you of betraying me, and yet here you are, working with the Thieves.” 

Oddly, Goro realises he can speak. “I am not working with them. I’m trying to protect innocent people you dragged into shielding your worthless body,” he spits. 

“They are the ones who are worthless. A few souls are nothing in comparison to my power. But you never did learn your place. It’s time to teach you, once and for all.” 

Goro tries for a retort, but the words stick in his throat, vocal cords no longer his own. And then, with a growing, sickening horror, his body starts to rise. Fluidly, with a grace he doesn’t feel he should have, Goro stands, and steps towards Shido, pausing only to pick up the gun on the floor. 

“Stop!” yells Ann’s voice from behind. 

Shido simply laughs. “You will get your turn too, don’t be afraid.  Each of you is mine to play with, but my son has always been so easy to use. I gave you everything, Goro. Rescued you from that town, kept you alive when I should have killed you long ago. And this is how you treat me. As if I believe you aren’t working with them. How did this trash get into my city without help?”

Goro stops before Shido. His eyes ache, dry from not blinking, and he’s sure if he could, he’d be panicking now. But his heartbeat remains steady, his limbs relaxed, nothing except his mind, helpless to the overwhelming control. 

“Let him go!” Haru’s voice echoes, and Shido’s head tilts. 

“Another one I recognise, but no matter, you’ll all be dead soon. Time to start now. Goro, shoot the leader in the head.” 

Ice and dread fills, and Goro pushes every inch of power, of fear, of hope outwards, and yet it does nothing. His body spins, sounds echoing in his ears, perhaps screams, perhaps his own footsteps as he crosses to Akira and places the gun to his forehead. 

No no no no no his mind screams as he looks into Akira’s eyes; grey and oddly void of anything, resigned and blank. He doesn’t know what he wants; to see some sort of flicker of understanding, of the Akira he’d come to know, come to care for after all this time. 

But it doesn’t matter either way, as his controlled body doesn’t waver, and pulls the trigger. 

The sound is so much louder than Goro expected, but it’s eclipsed by the sheer amount of blood. It covers him, sprays wide, and flicks into his face, before pooling onto the floor, Akira’s body slumping into limbs askew, a puppet with string cut. 

Goro’s mind fractures. He feels the distinct moment it does. He’s killed Akira, killed... killed the man he loves, he realises in the second his life drains away, is sure of it with every fibre of his being. He’s been so stupid to think he could subvert the fate he’s been given, could stopper it before it formed. Love bloomed when he didn’t even know its name, sealing their fortunes when it was already too late. 

Vaguely, through his fragmenting reality, he feels a hand touch his shoulder. “The first helpful thing you’ve ever done. Thank you, Goro. And now, since you helped plan this, it’s time to join your beloved leader,” says Shido. 

A needle-sharp pain through the chest. A mouth choked on silken strands. A plume of wavering darkness spills from his throat, curling out and down, piece by piece. Smoke singes, screams arise and his body becomes weightless as it breaks away from his consciousness. 

A tiny black feather delicately sits atop a pool of blood. And it is the last thing Goro sees before he dies. 

Chapter Text

Dying is a pain-streaked nothingness. Fleeting strikes of venom burn their way through him, scorching all it touches, then a blankness of whatever comes after living sweeps into every sense. 

It is understandable, in some ways, that this is what death is like. Hurt and nothing, over and over, until an end is reached and the blissful blankness hopefully triumphs. It is a shock then, when he finally opens his eyes. 

At first, he isn’t sure what he’s seeing, the lighting being as scant as it is. But after his heavy, dry eyes blink the scene into focus, he realises he’s in a dim room, square and sparsely occupied, the space seemingly taken up with what looks like cupboards, and one small table to his left. He’s on a bed, a rickety-looking metal frame surrounding it, although the pillows and sheets are comforting against his skin. 

But it all fades in comparison to the burning pain in his chest, overshadowing everything. His head throbs and his throat is sandpaper-dry, a tiredness bone-deep tying it all together. He falls unconscious again, or that’s what he assumes happens, because when his eyes open again, the room is brighter, and someone is humming. It breaks off as his eyelids flicker. 

“Goro? Can you hear me?” 

He tilts his head towards the noise, ignoring the dull ache it causes in his head. As he does, Chihaya comes into view, smiling softly. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake. Let me help you sit up,” she says. 

It’s mortifying in a distant way having to be helped to sit of all things, but Goro quickly comes to realise his body barely works on command. Thankfully, she’s careful enough that it only sets off a small ache in his chest. 

The relief of cool water is enough to remove the shame of not being able to hold the glass, and his mind clears somewhat having polished off half the liquid. 

“Not too much yet,” she says, setting it down on the table and pulling a chair over to sit by him. 

She stays there as Goro allows the water to quench his thirst, his mind to spark up once more, and after some time, he tries speaking. It’s hard; his throat hurts, as if raw and scraped from the inside, and it seems to take an effort to speak. 

“Not...dead,” he manages. 

She nods. “You’re not. You were hurt very badly. But you’ll be okay.” 

Goro swallows a few times. “Where?” he says, not bothering for a full sentence. 

Her eyes dart around. “We’re still in the City. But on the outskirts. This is a disused underground station, the tunnels are outside. We can use them to get out, but we need to wait until you’re stronger. You were hurt so much we couldn’t move you far.” 

“We?” he says, the question barely audible from his abused throat. 

But Chihaya shakes her head. “Just rest. I promise I’ll explain, but you need to get better first,” she says. 

She gets up, and oddly he misses her presence immediately, even if she’s only going to the other side of the room. She returns with a bottle and spoon, which immediately raises some alarm. It must be clear in his face, as she quickly reaches out and grasps his hand lightly. 

“It’s just pain medication, I promise. It will help you sleep. I wouldn’t give you anything else,” she says. 

He wavers. He’s in so much pain, the thought of any relief is tempting, but without understanding what’s happening, he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. But...he trusts her. Their lives consist of seeing each other in the worst of times, and honestly, Goro feels that his defences are so low that part of him doesn’t care if it’s poison. Anything to rid himself of the pain. 

He takes it carefully, taste buds unable to capture it, but the liquid leaves a tacky, cool relief down his throat which he’s instantly grateful for. Medicine shouldn’t work as fast as it does, but he feels his eyes shut, head full of cotton wool and the beginnings of dreams. 

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” he thinks she says, but it’s hard to truly know. 

His vision swims red before he sleeps once more. 

The next time, everything is sharper. He can feel the chill of the room, the slight scratch of the sheets against his skin, and he finds himself in more control of his body. The pain in his chest has lessened, but not gone. Whatever has occurred is clearly a bad injury. 

His memories are slow, and his mind sluggish, which is the most distressing aspect of this. He prides himself in his sharp mind, it has brought him out of danger his entire life, but he is struggling to piece together anything other than what’s happening in the present. 

“Ah, Goro, you’re looking so much better. Let’s see,” Chihaya says, standing from where she’d been seated with a book in her hand. 

This time Goro manages to struggle up in the bed without her help, gasping a little at the pain, but otherwise much improved. She immediately gives him a glass of water, and once more he’s able to act unaided, which helps bolster his confidence. 

“How long have I been here?” he says, which makes his throat twinge, but no more than a usual sore throat. 

“Just over a week,” she says, and Goro blinks, trying to catch his mind up to everything that’s passed. 

Chihaya shakes her head. “I know, um...let’s get you some food and we can talk,” she says, standing, but he catches her arm. 

“I can walk,” he says. 

She blinks. “Goro, I’m not sure you can.” 

That simply makes him want to try harder. “No, I will,” he says, and slowly swings his legs down from the bed. 

She makes a few fussing noises but gives in when she realises there’s no point in trying to prevent him. He sways but stands fairly steady, and she helps him put on a pair of trainers and throws a jumper over his shoulders to cover the pyjamas he's wearing. 

He doesn’t recognise them but also doesn’t ask her where they’re from. 

He has to lean on her slightly as they leave the small, square storage room and enter a short corridor. At the end is, what Goro can only imagine, what was once a break room for staff who worked here. It seems well used, a small sofa and TV set into the wall, which is currently playing a local news channel. The weather is wet today in the City.

“I’ll make you some rice porridge,” she says, and Goro nods, thinking that’s probably a good call. 

There is a stack of books by the soft on a small coffee table, two used mugs already there. He watches her open the fridge, which is fairly well stocked. Clearly, this is a good hideout, although he doesn’t know how either of them came to be here. 

Our main story today continues to follow the election of the new magical council of the city. As our previous Mayor Shido is still at large, the council met today at a secure location, but the results of the vote will be broadcast this evening. 

Goro snaps his attention to the TV screen, where Shido’s face is plastered across, along with a number to call. 

We again remind citizens to call the information hotline should they see Masayoshi Shido, who is wanted in connection to the murders of Officer Nakamura whose memorial is being held tomorrow night, Chiyo Tanaka, who worked in the town hall, and the Leader of the Phantom Thieves, whose identity is being protected by the council at this time. 

Goro’s mind slows, and there’s a sudden clash of porcelain, Chihaya’s voice floating over, but Goro can no longer hear her. He’s suddenly back in the town hall, gun raised as Akira’s eyes stare unblinkingly back. 

Red. So much red. Just as fate predicted, he stood covered in Akira’s blood, watching it pool and cover his entire vision. His chest burns and he leans over his knees as he convulses, thinking he’s going to be sick. 

“Goro, Goro it’s okay-”

“I killed him,” he gasps, before smacking a hand over his mouth, retching into it. 

His throat feels as if it’s ripping open, and he coughs violently into his hand. He feels wetness hit it, and Chihaya soothes a hand across his back until he is stable, although his body tremors with the aftershocks. 

Slowly he raises up, feeling hideous that he’s just vomited what little was in his stomach, only to see that four wet and congealed black feathers sit in his palm. 

“What?” he hisses, his hand starting to shake, and Chihaya stands up. 

“Let me make you tea and the porridge. You need to eat, and we can talk,” she says, quickly getting him a cloth to wipe up the mess. 

Goro sits numbly while she does, utterly zoned out until she pries his hands apart, placing a mug between them. The heat between his palms steadies him, and carefully he takes a sip, It stings, but he prefers that. After everything, pain is warranted. 

“Tell me,” he says, and she sits opposite him, holding her own mug. 

“Okay, but you have to eat as well,” she says, pointing to the bowl. He picks it up, and after he’s managed a few small mouthfuls, she begins. 

“Shido’s actions were broadcast. Every news network in the country saw him using his own staff as human shields. When the police tried to arrest him, he killed one of them and then used one of the staff to bypass them. He ended up killing her too,” she says, her hands shaking. 

Goro closes his eyes. He’d tried specifically to help her, to help at all, and all he’d done is cause more casualties. 

“You’re officially missing. We decided it would be easiest if you were hidden, especially considering how hurt you were, and...what happened,” she says slowly. 

“When I shot Joker,” he replies. 

“Shido controlled you. He killed Joker, not you. And that power is...it’s wrong, somehow. No person should  be able to do that,” she says. 

Goro looks up at her sharply. “How do you know that?” 

She puts down her tea cup and smiles, a sad look. “Oracle showed me. They asked for my help. I’ve met Queen and Fox too, they helped bring you here. They wanted my perspective on the magic Shido used, although I’m unsure why as they probably know more than me, and well...with your curse too.” 

Goro almost drops the porridge, hastily putting it down on the table. As he does, she reaches out and takes his hand. “I know you couldn’t tell me. But, I can help you now.” 

The curse. It had activated, and yet… “How am I alive? The curse was meant to kill me, and the feathers,” he says, trailing off. 

She squeezes his hand once. “It’s likely, from what happened to you, that the curse backfired. Which means that Shido attempted to activate it without conditions being met,” she says. 

Goro frowns, and she leans forward. “Curses are powerful magic, and can only be activated if all conditions are met. If someone tries without that, it can cause them great harm,” she says. 

“But I worked with the Phantom Thieves, I helped them get into the city. They went after Shido, so-” 

Goro cuts off, suddenly piecing it all together. The words surface, clicking together in tandem with his thoughts. “I didn’t know they were after him. So it didn’t count. I wasn’t conspiring against him. I gave Joker the means to, but I wasn’t involved in the plan itself.” 

Chihaya sighs, then nods grimly. “That would do it. If the conditions of the curse were as such, you doing something unawares would not allow it to be triggered. He assumed you had, and tried to force it. Which is why it hurt both of you,” she says. 

Goro’s attention narrows. “He was hurt?” she says. 

“That’s what Oracle told me, almost as soon as you collapsed. It allowed them to escape, and take you with them. They got to safety, and Shido came after them, but he’s seriously hurt and on the run from every magic-user. But, that’s a worry,” she says. 

A smile has been pulling at Goro’s lips as she speaks, the knowledge that Shido’s own damn curse against him had backfired. But it drops at her final words. 

“What do you mean?” he asks. 

She looks around nervously. “He could be after you. Queen is sure he’s after the rest of them, as they all escaped alive, but Oracle and I agree that he’s probably after you. The son who defeated him,” she says. 

Goro swallows, feeling his throat tickle with an invisible feather. The hatred of his father still simmers, but the weakness of his limbs is too apparent. He’d not been a match for Shido before, and now he can barely walk. If he did track Goro down, there is only one way this ends. 

“You’re taking too much of a risk being here,” he says. 

Her eyes widen, and she laughs. “Goro, you’re my friend, I wasn’t going to leave you,” she says. 

“This goes far beyond the debt you owe me,” he says. 

“As I said, you’re my friend. I know I don’t owe you, I’m choosing this. We just need to stay hidden until you recover enough to travel. I never did like the City, I didn’t have much of a home there. This just gave me a push to move,” she says. 

He doesn't understand her loyalty. Her willingness to help him after all this. But he nods, the emotion so heavy on his shoulders that he slumps against the sofa cushions. 

“Try to eat. Oracle said she’d come back in a few days, to help finalise the plan. There is a doctor too, who helped set you up here. I expect she’ll be here soon to check on you,” she says. 

Goro mechanically eats, sipping his now lukewarm tea to wash it down. He manages half the porridge before his stomach starts to ache, so unused to food. Chihaya helps him walk back, and he collapses on the pillows, worn out from the short outing. 

“I tried to go to your place when I heard you were missing, but Oracle found me on the way, saying it was too dangerous. Fox, though, managed to get in and brought some of your things, although I’m not sure if it’s everything. I did find these, however,” she says, and shows him a small battered box. 

Goro takes it, eyes brimming before he can stop them. His shaking fingers slip as he opens the lid, revealing the old cards his mother had used so long ago. He flips the first one up, and Justice stares back at him, her golden hair still as bright as it was that day so many years ago. 

The sob slips out before he even knows it, and Chihaya almost flies over the bed to embrace him. He cries into her shoulder, and she just lets him, the last few months as well as those few minutes under Shido’s influence pouring out of him. Goro wants to scream, punch the wall until he draws blood, tear out his hair and kill his father, but he can’t do any of those. So he cries until there’s nothing left, sagging against his friend. 

“My two of cups,” he mumbles, then laughs, and he feels her breath hitch, arms close around him further. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. 

Goro shakes his head. “My fate was tied. That’s what my prophecy said. That I’d kill my first love. I was stupid to think I could fight fate.” 

Stupid and pathetic that he’s spent his life so remote from others he didn’t recognise love when it arrived. That he so craved feelings and belonging he dragged Akira into his fate, who didn’t deserve an end like this. 

His whole life has revolved around Justice, but he’s never really been able to uphold his ideals. Paralysed with his inability to do anything but rely on others, he’d brought them down with him. Akira is dead because of him, and the others…

“Did all the Thieves get out?” he asks, although he doesn’t let go of Chihaya. 

“Yes, they’re all fine. Worried about you,” she says. 

This makes him pull back. He thinks of those he saw, of Ann who had told him to run, of Haru plastered against the wall, both of them unable to do anything against Shido’s powers. They’d watched him kill their leader, and yet they had concern for him? 

It’s all too much. He slowly extracts himself, and she lets him, falling back on the pillows with sudden exhaustion. His eyes sting, and he wipes uselessly at the tears with his arm, letting it hide his face. 

“Try to rest,” Chihaya says, and Goro thinks to tell her that’s impossible, stupid even to suggest it, but his battered and bruised body clearly has other ideas as he swiftly bows to the exhaustion. 

Takemi is not what Goro expects from a doctor, her high spiked heels scraping against the floor of the storage room. But she examines him with an air he recognises from other medical professionals, and he’s hardly one to judge on appearances. 

“The medicine’s doing its job. Good. I wasn’t sure it would take. Hard to tell with a curse,” she remarks. 

“Thank you for your aid,” he says. 

She glances up, then smiles. “No problem. Although, most of these drugs are still in trial stages.” 

Goro shrugs. “I didn’t have medicine as a child, anything is better than nothing.” 

She raises her eyebrows and Goro realsies that was probably a social faux-pas. He’s losing his edge, hard to cling to normal rules when he’s still trying to summon the energy to take more than a few paces unaided, with the constant pressure of their need to flee hanging over him. 

Not to mention the things he just cannot think about yet. 

“I’m going to recommend a new drug, it’s in pill form, but you said you can swallow more now?” Takemi says, and Goro confirms so. 

“Good, this one will help you sleep, and this spray will help your throat heal. I think this is the best we can do until you’re settled somewhere more permanent,” she says, standing up. 

“I would give it a few more days, a week if you’re able, before trying to move further. I don’t have the equipment I need here to check you completely, but there’s fluid on your lungs and your heartbeat is irregular. Any time you can take to heal is going to make a difference,” she says. 

Goro isn’t sure how curse magic works, but he can only conclude Shido aimed to destroy him from the inside, and had managed to get a decent way into that before the spell backfired. He has no idea how much difference a week will make, but he’s getting the sinking feeling they’re running out of time. 

He thanks her, and she nods, picking up her bag and heading out, chatting to Chihaya on the way, who then returns with a smile. 

“All good news! Oracle said she’d come by as well. She’s going to help us get out of the City, and into a safe house. She thinks after that, Shido shouldn’t be able to find you,” she says. 

Goro nods slowly, his stomach churning. It’s cowardly, but he doesn’t want to face Futaba. He killed someone she cared about, influenced or not, and he can never make up for that. He can barely comprehend that she’s still actively trying to help him. 

The lack of light and open space is starting to get to him, as well as the frustrations of his own mind. Fortunately, everything tires him out, but he hates doing nothing. He’s never hesitated this much before, and day by day, he finds himself itching to act. 

So he starts trying to move more. It’s the only thing he can do. If he needs to flee the scene, he’ll need to do so effectively, and right now he’s not capable of it. So he walks the length of the break room, the corridor, and the tiny excuse for a bathroom for as long as he can, which is not long at all, but each time he does it, it becomes easier. His steps are slow, he doubts he can run, and sometimes he coughs up pieces of feather, but it’s better than those first moments of wakefulness. 

He misses Akira’s curry. The first time he thinks that, over a curry bread, he almost vomits, unable to get the image of his death scene from his head. He’d never had the most varied of diets, and despite Chihaya going outside frequently to replenish their supplies, she doesn’t go far and there’s a limited amount of choice on the outskirts. 

He watches the news. A new council is set up, reforms already beginning. Vigils are held for the dead, and Goro joins them, lighting candles for those he couldn’t save, and another for Akira he killed. He has nightmares then, for the first time his dreams breaking through chemical slumber. Of Akira, scared eyes begging him not to, of Goro laughing while he gleefully pulled the trigger, bloodstains covering him like a lake, drowning in scarlet until he wakes screaming. 

He knows the spectres behind his eyelids are false; there is no joy in the destruction he brought, but his mind longs to stop conjuring the specifics of that moment by day, leaving it to expand into horrors by night. The medication helps, but as his body heals his mind starts to scramble to keep its hold on stability. 

He’s, therefore, in a sorry state when Futaba arrives. 

She’s dressed in her Phantom Thief outfit, her voice rising rapidly from outside the room before she bursts in, Chihaya hurrying after her. Goro had been attempting to read, but it seems there’s no point in trying to fake nonchalance, as the frantic steps alert him to a problem. 

“Sorry Goro, but you guys have to go,” she says, glancing around. 

“What?” he says, sitting up. 

“Shido’s near. We’re trying to track him. His magic is far weaker, thanks to you, so he only shows up on my radar when he fails to hide himself, but he’s heading this way. I thought we'd have more time...are you going to be okay?” she says. 

Goro stands, still slow and stiff, but he hopes it’s effective nonetheless. 

“Yes. Are you going to explain where?” he says. 

Futaba grins, her mask focusing on him. Then, without warning, she bounds over and wraps her arms around his middle. It’s a gentle hug, but it still causes him to freeze, the suddenness of touch and from someone so unexpected. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay. We’ll get you out,” she says, then pulls away, leaping across the room. 

“Okay pack up and let’s gooo, stop standing there Goro!” she yells, the previous moment broken. 

It doesn’t take them long to get things together. Goro’s never owned much, to begin with, and he’s been living off one bag since he woke up. He puts on boots, a sweater, and a coat at the prodding of Futaba, and Chihaya tries to take his bag. 

“I can carry it,” he says. 

She looks at him worriedly. “Are you sure? We need to walk for a while.” 

“Yes, I’m fine,” he snaps, glad at least it’s a backpack that makes the weight easy to distribute. He swallows a painkiller for good measure, then packs up his medicine last. He also straps a dagger to his back. It’s not a gun, but it will do, a sharp and wicked thing he has from long ago. If they’re in a pinch, he can use it. Futaba hands him a bottle of water, and then they’re heading out. 

They go through the break room, another short corridor before they enter the platform. It’s lit, if sparingly. The station name has all but faded off, crumbling posters covering the edges of each space, a mix of strange colours. There are numbers on the walls, probably marked for electricity, but oddly enough they make their way to the platform edge, towards a gaping tunnel. 

“You need to walk to the next station. Keep going straight. The tracks will branch twice. The first just to the left, and the second on either side. Just keep going. We’ll be waiting for you at the station” 

“We?” Goro asks, unsure why the secrecy is still needed now. 

Futaba just shakes her head. “One of us, we’re all on standby. But they’ll bring you to safety, we just need you to get out of the City first. Shido’s influence fails once you cross the border, which is two stops from here. Get to the next, and we’re almost clear. It’s too dangerous to try and do so outside, so underground it is.” 

Chihaya looks nervously between them. “We’re meant to walk across the train tracks?” 

“Oh, it’s not live, don’t worry, it hasn’t been used for years. Just walk straight, and you’ll get there. I’ll be watching the whole time, so here,” Futaba says, handing Goro what looks like a walkie-talkie from a children’s TV show. 

“Really?” he says. 

She grins. “Best, utterly untraceable by anyone else communicator. The tunnel is lit, so you will be able to see the way.” 

Goro peers at the tunnel, seeing that while it is indeed lit, the lights are a strange reddish colour and tiny, some sort of emergency lighting he assumes. It’s hardly going to be the best journey. But, he has little choice. 

“We’d best be off,” he says to Chihaya, who grimaces but walks forward, hopping off the platform. 

Goro hesitates for a second, looking back at Futaba. She tilts her head, expression unreadable behind her mask. He takes one step to her, hesitating. 

“Joker...I…” he trails off, and she looks down, studying her feet, body caving in on itself. 

Goro closes his eyes, fights off another desperate need to scream and throw himself onto the rails, wishing they were live. What could he possibly say? Apologise for killing him, for causing them so many problems just by being there?

“You should go,” Futaba says quietly, raising her head. She stares back at him through her mask, and he has no idea how she feels but...she’s right. He should leave. 

“Thank you,” he says, voice thick and barely working, his breathing uneven as he turns away, his chest suddenly tight. 

Getting onto the rails takes a moment when he’d usually just jump down unaided. He’s stopped being embarrassed by his feebleness at this point, leaving just frustration. Chihaya doesn’t try to help him, knows he’ll either glare or snap, but he makes it without a real issue. 

“Just keep going forward. You can’t go wrong. Call if you need me!” Futaba says, waving her own matching walkie-talkie as they head into the tunnel. 

“We will. Thank you, Oracle!” Chihaya calls, and Goro nods at Futaba, not trusting himself to speak, as the mouth of the tunnel swallows them whole. 

He hates to admit it, but the further away they get from the half-light of the station platform, the more terrifying the journey becomes. They walk close together, the red lights meaning they can see a few tracks in front of them, but it doesn’t prevent occasional stumblings on loose gravel. 

Each of their footsteps echoes, and every so often, it feels as if there’s another set of steps, both of them pausing one another just to listen. It’s never real, but Goro can swear several times he feels someone watching, walking in his shadow as they move. He’s also extremely aware he’s walking on a railway line, always thinking a sudden light of a train will appear, body tense with every step. 

After a time, it gets easier, although he cannot say he’s fully comfortable. He clears his throat, and Chihaya looks up at him. “Do you know how far we need to go?” 

“This tunnel is just over two kilometres long. The first branch halfway, the other close to the station,” she says. 

Two kilometres. He used to walk that and more most days, but now the thought of doing so makes his body ache. Can he actually walk for twenty-five minutes? It will probably take more than that now. 

Goro has little choice though, and nods, steeling himself for the trek. He measures his breathing, counts the lights which swirl past in order to occupy his mind, and no matter what, does not track the time. 

But it doesn’t help. By the time they reach the first turn, he’s exhausted. 

“Let’s rest for a minute,” Chihaya says, taking his arm and leading him to the wall of the tunnel. 

Goro slides down it, pain smarting as he does, but it’s low in comparison to the rest of his body. His breathing is harsh, his vision swaying and his head pounds. They’re halfway and Goro doesn’t think he can even get up again. 

“You should go,” he says.

Chihaya glares at him. “Don’t be stupid. We’ll rest then keep going.” 

Goro shakes his head, a small laugh escaping. He can feel that airy panic rising, his body bleeding into the uncomfortable tracks. 

“I can’t. And you’re a fool to keep trying to save me after everything.” 

Goro’s always lived on borrowed time. From being born in a town so remote everyone’s life spans were halved, to escaping whatever killed his mother, to Shido not killing him that first day in his office. He should have known the day his fate labelled him a murderer that his existence was never meant to be. Forcing it has only made everything worse for others. 

“Just go,” he says, voice filling with gravel, turning his head to look at the gloom. 

“Goro. Stop this,” Chihaya says sharply, her voice echoing. She squats down beside him, anger crossing her features. “You’ve never given up before. Just because this is hard doesn’t mean we stop.” 

He shakes his head. “Don't you know a losing battle when you see it?”

“You’re not a losing battle. You’re a fighter. And you’ve found your way out every time. This isn’t any different,” she says. 

Goro closes his eyes, and feels his breath shake as it expels. He’s so tired, hurting from the inside outwards. It’s been so many years of death and hauntings, so long of looking over his shoulder, of trying to live with a curse in his heart. Goro’s so incredibly tired. 

But, for the first time, he’s not alone. 

It hurts more than anything he’s ever felt, to know that no matter what he does. Akira will never be there to greet him. That he ended his life with his own hands, tore away a person so loved by those who knew him, and those who knew his alias. And he did that.

But he also did not. His fingers may have pulled the trigger, but Shido forced his hand. Forced Goro to reach out to them in the first place, forced his mother to run, and forced the City into submission. Shido has to pay, Goro has always known that, has always strived for that even when acting on it would lead to his death. 

It seems too, that Akira had been trying to do that. They had the same goals all along. And only one of them is capable of finishing it. Goro has never truly had much to live for, but Akira opened his world. Shido took him away, and Goro is back to his single focus. So he will get through this; if only just to double up on his vengeance. 

“Fine. But I need a fucking rest,” he mutters. 

Chihaya grins, and sits next to him, opening her bag and passing him a packet of gummies. Goro tears it open and stuffs several in his mouth, the sugar automatically making him feel better even as his teeth ache at the sweetness. He takes a sip of the water Futaba had given him, and after a few more minutes, they continue on. 

It’s worse though. A break was necessary but equally had given his muscles time to get used to it, leaving him pained with every step. He’s sweating and far slower than before, Chihaya having to take his bag, he can barely walk with it. 

The eerie feeling grows, too. The shadows seem longer, the sounds echo and Goro is almost certain they’re being followed. He looks over his shoulder several times, but still there is nothing. Nothing in the corners either, despite Goro’s mind whispering of errant bones and abandoned graves. 

He can’t tell how long it’s been, but suddenly, the lights flicker. Chihaya gasps, gripping his hand, and Goro’s own fear sparks. They return, the red light guiding them as strong as ever, but Goro is certain something is wrong. 

He takes his walkie-talkie, hitting the button on the side. “Oracle...are you monitoring us?” he says, keeping his voice quiet. 

There’s static, and then her voice filters through, so loud in the otherwise oppressive quiet. “Yeah. A magic wave. I can’t see anything but...keep going.”

The ‘hurry’ doesn’t need to be voiced, and hand in hand, they walk forward. 

Goro wishes he could run, can sense that Chihaya wants to, slightly pulling him along at a pace he knows he cannot keep up with, but his nerves allow him to anyway. They trip on occasion, wandering through, startling at every noise they cannot identify. The lights flicker every once in a while, the momentary darkness making Goro sure he’s dying each time. 

“You’re almost at the crossroad, it’s-” 

Futaba’s voice cuts off suddenly. Goro stops, holding the walkie-talkie in his hand. 

“Do we continue?” Chihaya whispers and Goro stares at the object one more time. 

“No other choice,” he says. 

Within a few seconds of this decision, he sees the shadow of the crossroads. They’re nearly there, the light actually starting to increase as they walk, and the station truly must be near for that effect to occur. 

It also means, though, that the Shadow from the left tunnel is seen quickly. 

There’s no noise otherwise, and for a second Goro is sure that it’s just his paranoia, but as they move forward, it grows. Chihaya’s hand tightens in his, her eyes wild as they meet his own. 

The walkie-talkie crackles to life. “Run! You have to run!” 

Goro’s sprinting before the first syllable reaches his ears. He senses from the side the shadow moving, and something shakes from the corner of his eyes, but he ignores it in favour of taking the middle tunnel. It really must be close to the platform, the red lulling to orange with the glow of possibility, but something from behind laughs. 

It’s not a normal laugh. It sounds like many voices, grinding and chattering, something unnatural and old , the knowledge creeping through his bones. Every one of his senses tells him to flee, so that’s what he does, no longer even feeling the pain in his body. 

That is until lightning strikes through his leg. 

Goro screams, crashing down. His mouth hits the tracks, pooling with blood in an instant, but it’s nothing compared to his leg. His body drags backward, and he screams again, whatever it is having hooked into the flesh there, using it to pull him back. 

“Goro! Oh my god, that’s not-”

“Go, run now!” he screams at Chihaya, spitting blood and turning to her once as he inches back towards the dark. 

She’s terrified, utterly terrified, and Goro has no idea what’s waiting for him in the dark. There’s a noise of static, and then a scream fills the tunnel, drowning out anything else and making his areas ring with the cries. Goro is forced to close his eyes, dizzy and stinging hands coming to cover his ears. 

The pressure in his leg ceases for just a moment, and then his body jolts. Pain flares all over, his back taking the brunt of it, eyes falling open enough to see the direction of the light has changed. He’s been flung against the side of the tunnel, the world spinning ridiculously as he does. 

The knife ...his mind whispers. He still has the knife, his one last attempt at facing this head-on. He turns to his left, and sees nothing in the lightened part of the station, heart full of relief that Chihaya is nowhere to be seen. 

That feeling though is short-lived as he turns his head to the other side. 

There, smiling eerily is his father. Or something that once was Shido. He’s bigger now, hulking and misshapen, having to crouch in the tunnel due to his massive size. One arm is encased in what looks like gleaming metal, with objects protruding, including a bloody-ended hook which must be what pierced Goro’s leg. The more Goro’s vision clears, he sees that the entire left side of him appears to have been stitched and melded with other substances, magic crackling with every flicker. 

The other side appears to be rotting. Shido’s eye is wide and bloodshot, smile forced where the flesh of the right side of his face seems to be melting away. The skin he can see is almost burned, sores appearing and oozing, some patches dark with something sickeningly wrong churning through him. 

It’s hideous, and Goro can barely look at him, the wrongness, the aura of pure deceit wavering off him, as well as the tremendous magical power telling him to flee with all his might. But Goro is hurt, cornered, and at the base of it all, so incredibly tired of running in general. So he swallows a mouthful of metal and fear and braces himself. 

It, he refuses to think of the being before him as a person, stalks closer. “You are a mere child, a powerless waste. You think I wouldn’t find you?” it says. 

Its voice rattles through, stealing Goro’s breath for a second. 

“If I’m so powerless, why are you here,” he manages, grinning to himself as the thing bares its teeth. 

“You dared to stand in my way. I am the control, and your pathetic excuse for a life is not worth prolonging,” it screams, and Goro just has enough time to jump out of the way. 

The creature still connects with him though, a physical hit to his middle which sends him down the track towards the light. Goro groans, unsure now how hurt he is or exactly where; there are so many places where his body is screaming in pain. 

“Pathetic? You’re just pissed he got you first. Take this!” 

The tunnel illuminates, and the things hiss, but before he can react, he’s dragged upwards. 

“Are you okay? Oh god your leg, come on,” says an extremely familiar voice, and as he stands he sees the red mask. Ann. 

“You…” he manages, as another figure jumps forward. 

“Ha, surprised? We’ve been tailing this asshole right back, been trying to skulk in the dark,” says Ryuji, skull mask in place. 

Lightning magic , his mind informs him as it casts itself back to that night in a different train station. 

“You inferior beings, do you think your trick can save you? This is my world to control,” it roars, and Ann flicks her hand, a barrier coming up just in time to deflect what seems like a gunshot. 

“We can take him down, don’t worry. Just get out of the tunnel,” Ann says. 

Goro shakes his head, even as his leg throbs. “No, look at him, he’s not human.” 

“He’s not. But he’s severely damaged thanks to the curse backfire. Whatever he tried to do to gain more power it’s...warped him. He’s dying, but he’s trying to take you with him, so you have to go,” Ann says, giving him a little push. 

The barrier goes down, and Goro is just about to protest when a blur storms past him, and Goro can barely keep up until the thing is screaming, an axe embedded in the rotting shoulder. 

Noir jumps back, and Goro flinches as blood spurts high, dark and oozing abnormally. “Goro, run for the platform!” she yells, before standing in front of him, Ryuji and Ann taking position with her. 

As much as it pains him, he simply cannot keep up with them, so he turns and limps forward, a series of yells from behind telling him the three are well into their attacks. He grits his teeth and keeps moving, knife clutched in a shaking hand. As he stumbles, so close to the platform he can see something which must be a train parked at the far end. 

“Goro, here!” Futaba’s voice calls, and he realises he must have dropped the walkie-talkie when the not quite Shido-thing attacked.

He makes it through the tunnel when the ground shakes. It feels as if the world is crushing, pressing down on him, every sound drowned under pressure. Goro feels himself fall to the floor, muffled shrieks around him, dizzy and sick with the reverberations. 

The world snaps back, and as it does, the creature looms over him. It’s bleeding, leaking fluid of dark colours, magic falling off it in waves, so much pouring over him he feels as if he cannot breathe. It’s immense, unearthly and Goro suddenly feels so small, an ant under its feet. 

“You… do not learn,” it mouths, the words penetrating Goro’s skull, even though the creature doesn’t seem to move its mouth. The voice is different somehow, more human, one rising from the rest. 

“Should have….killed you….destroyed that mistake...I cursed her, killed her...should have just killed you.” 

His mother. 

It was Shido. His father’s need to control spanned to her, trapping her in his web of plans and schemes. She hid, she ran, but he found her, activating her curse. But Shido never found him. 

She didn’t allow him to get his fate read because she didn’t want him to be discovered. He was outside of fate, outside of control. And Goro realises this in a heartbeat, knows it like he does the colours and the shapes of the Justice card. He also understands the words Akira told him so long ago are true. We make our own fate. 

Goro summons every scrap of will and energy he has left, and with a scream, swings his arm upright. The dagger flashes, then plunges directly into the creature’s right eye. It shrieks, lifting off him, and staggering upward, more fluid leaking, legs collapsing under it. Goro tries to crawl away backward, even as he feels the magic focus, knows he’s dead this time, it’s anger coursing through the railway tracks. 

“Go down.” 

A gun fires, loud and immense, and with it, Goro feels the rush of magic. It slams into the ruined side of Shido’s head and the noise stops. Everything ceases for half a second, the air in the room seeming to pause as the creature is suspended for a living moment. 

And then, it falls. 

The magic fades away and out as the creature crumples in on itself, obeying the comment of the marksman. It makes a hideous noise, and Goro feels his stomach lurch, eyes closing as he leans back on the tracks. 

His ears pound, his mouth aches, his leg is now numb which is probably worse than the rest, and the whole fades in and out. He really hopes that means Shido, or whatever it was he’d become is dead, as Goro no longer has enough energy to face anything. 

“..ro...Goro...open your eyes, come on, honey.” 

Honey? He thinks dimly, but he isn’t exactly comfortable lying here so he grudgingly opens them. It hurts a little, the lights of the station, previously so dim, are now blinding. The first thing he sees is Futaba, leaning over him and waving her arms, looking relieved when he focuses on her. 

“Stop,” he mutters, attempting to brush them out of the way but his arm only makes it halfway. 

Futaba makes a face. “Oh wow, that’s not a pretty look, you're gonna be so mad in a few days.” 

“Huh?” he says, but before he can ask further, he’s being hauled up again. He’s utterly fed up with being manhandled by this point. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Chihaya says from behind him, clearly the person attempting to prop him up, and he smiles to himself. 

Futaba waves her arms. “No, no, don’t you’ve-” But she cuts off with a yelp as someone moves into her space, causing her to almost topple over on the railway. 

Goro blinks. Has to force his eyes to open again, make the world right once more, because it’s doing something so utterly impossible that he must really, truly be dead this time. But his vision doesn’t change, in fact, the face becomes sharper as the man before him removes his mask. 

Akira smiles, wide and bright, despite the cut on his forehead and the exhaustion in his eyes. Which is far more put together than Goro last saw him, bloody and dead from his own gunshot wound. 

He must be losing his mind, must have actually died either back in city hall or in the tunnel. Although the afterlife is full of a lot more pain and people than he imagined. 

“Akira?” he says, voice cracking.

Akira immediately winces. “Ah, you’ve… lost some teeth, okay, let’s be careful there,” he says, raising gloved hands to gently cup Goro’s cheeks. 

His blood pounds, Akira is so close, touching him, alive and real. That voice, he recalls hearing it twice. Akira fired the gun, the killing blow on Shido, and then again calling him honey, which-

“Teeth?” he says, voice going high and a little frantic, as there’s something about losing pieces meant to be inside of him that is more nauseating than other injuries. 

“Don’t fret, I found his teeth, Noir kindly lent me her handkerchief.  We just need to put them in milk and they can be reattached!” calls Yusuke from behind, which is odd as Goro doesn’t remember Yusuke appearing at all, but here he is...with Goro’s teeth. 

He thinks he might actually be close to passing out now, which isn’t good. 

Akira is glaring at someone over Goro’s shoulder, then he feels Chihaya move from behind him. 

“Come on, let’s get you up,” Haru’s voice says, close to his ear. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, and try not to put your weight on your injured leg,” she says. 

That’s all the warning he gets before she lifts him to his feet, and Akira rises with him, placing his hands on Goro’s waist, which is a distraction from marvelling at just how strong Haru is that she can effortlessly just lift him. 

His head lulls and Akira lifts a hand to help him focus, but Goro knows this is short-lived. 

“I’m going to pass out,” he announces. 

“That’s okay,” Akira says quickly. 

“Don’t lose my teeth, I need them,” he says. 

Akira nods, oddly smiling. “Promise I won’t.”

Goro can feel his vision starting to swim but quickly grips Akira’s wrist, Haru steading him as he does. “Don’t let me kill you again,” he says, needs Akira to know how he isn’t safe with Goro around. 

Akira’s face falls, and he moves closer. “You didn’t kill me the first time,” he whispers, then kisses Goro’s forehead. 

Goro’s hand falls away as Akira steps back, then turns. “Queen, are you good to go?” 

“I’ll call Sis as soon as we get above ground, let’s go,” Makoto’s voice calls, and Goro wonders where she is, as he can barely see anything. 

“It’s okay, lean on me,” Haru says, and Goro feels himself doing so whether he wants to or not. The ground moves, the pain fades, and he knows he’s passing out once more, but before he does, Akira smiles at him once more. 

“I’ll see you when you wake up,” he says. 

Goro clings onto that promise as the world turns dark. 

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.