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Honest Mistake

Summary:

Goro Akechi doesn’t know what’s real.

Notes:

My new thing is to write random stuff at 4am and then publish it without giving it a second thought. I really like how this tuned out, so I offer it to you all. :)

Work Text:

You failed me. 

You know what happens when you fail me. 

Do you like being a failure?

What’s wrong with you? You had literally one job and a trained monkey could have done it. Are you saying you’re dumber than a monkey, Goro?

Maybe it’s that monkey of a boyfriend you’ve been hanging around. He’s making you stupid, isn’t he? I can do something about him, if he’s going to hinder my plans, Goro. Do you understand? If you mess up again, I’ll make you watch me kill him.

Never forget: I control you. I own you. Everything that you are and everything that you have is mine and because of me.

Don’t fail me again.

You won’t like what happens if you fail me again.

I promise.

Goro gasped, shooting up in bed.

Chest heaving in and out, he — they? — he? — where was he? — they? they… — looked around the dark room, swallowing hard against a lump in their throat, taking in the vague, barely noticeable outlines of the room.

It looked familiar…

… but not familiar enough.

Am I dead?

Where am I? Where is this? Whose bed am I in?

Goro froze, suddenly becoming aware of the sound of someone snoring. It couldn’t be him — them — that was doing that, could it? They…

… Goro was awake, weren’t they?

Goro swallowed hard against a lump in their throat, putting a hand on their chest. For just a moment, they closed their eyes and listened.

lup-dup; lup-dup

lup-dup; lup-dup

lup-dup; lup-dup

lup-dup; lup-dup

A heartbeat. 

Goro wasn’t dead.

Or, if they were dead, they were in some weird alternate reality or something where they were in a strange bedroom. With someone beside them, snoring. Sleeping soundly. Completely unaware of the fact they were having a panic attack. Who slept so soundly they were unaware that their bed partner was having a panic attack? Who slept soundly enough to not notice their partner was—

Not breathing?

Their heartbeat was gone. They couldn’t find it in their chest, neck, wrist, or ankles. It was nowhere. It was—

He was dead.

They?

What the hell was with these gender neutral pronouns? Since when did he use gender neutral pronouns? Who in their right mind would legitimately let him use gender-neutral pronouns?

Certainly not Shido.

but isn’t Shido dead? Didn’t you kill him?

… didn’t the Phantom Thieves kill him?

No; that wasn’t right. He — they? — No… The Phantom Thieves weren’t killers. They would have never killed Shido. They would have changed his heart and left him to repent for his sins.

That wasn’t fair, though.

That wasn’t fair because he was — they were? — dead. If they had to be dead because of Shido, it wasn’t fair that the Phantom Thieves had let that asshole of a man live after killing him.

Some justice.

Goro still wasn’t breathing. They still couldn’t find their heartbeat. They—

Shido wasn’t dead.

Neither was Goro.

Goro remembered now. They had died in Shido’s palace, but they’d been brought back to life because of Maruki. That… He resurrected him — … no… — because Akira Kurusu had wanted him to live.

Right?

That was right, wasn’t it?

Then why did they remember fighting with Kurusu about his life? Why did he remember telling him he had to make the right choice and bring an altered reality? The cost of his life meant nothing in the grand scheme of things; meant nothing if it was under the control of someone else?

Did that mean Kurusu hadn’t made the right choice? Was he living in an altered reality where he was only alive because of someone else?

If he was alive, then where was his heartbeat?

… and if he was dead, then why did he remember waking up near a train station at the beginning of Cherry Blossom season?

Wasn’t that in March, though? Hadn’t they fought Takuto Maruki in February? What happened to the month between when they fought Maruki and when he woke up?

Who the hell was snoring so damn loudly?

That wasn’t snoring.

It was yelling.

Someone was shouting.

The room was shaking.

Were they having an earthquake?

Goro had to get to get somewhere safe — if only his — their? — legs would just work and get him out of this bed.

There was a lot of yelling.

So much yelling.

Why were so many people yelling?

Goro! Goro Akechi, wake up! You’re dreaming, Goro. Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

Dreaming?

Dreaming about what? This wasn’t a dream. They were awake. They were in their room. They were in their bedroom and there was someone snoring beside them and—

Goro shot up with a start and a loud gasp.

Their eyes popped open almost as wide as they’d go as he took in far too much of the bedroom they were in all at once.

It was light. The lights were on. 

The… The Phantom Thieves were here. All of them. They were all here, in their — in this — bedroom. They all shared this room.

Why?

Two gentle hands held theirs.

Haru Okumura and Futaba Sakura, they noticed, glancing down at the hands and then to each side of their body, to see who the hands belonged to.

“It was a dream, Goro,” Futaba said.

“Yes, Goro-san,” Haru said, squeezing their hand. “It was a dream. It wasn’t real. This is real. We’re all real. You’re real.”

“Where am I?” they gruffed out, sounding hoarse for some reason.

“Tokyo.” Goro looked up to see who answered. It was Ryuji Sakamoto. The monkey Shido punished them for liking; for being with. If only he had known what they were actually doing; who all they were actually interested in. “Yer in Tokyo. Japan. Like ya always been.”

“You have to be more specific than that, Ryuji,” said another voice, gently. Goro turned to look. This time it was Yusuke Kitagawa. (Remembering given name and surname helped to ground them as much as what they were being told by everyone whose names they were remembering.) “You are in a renovated apartment in Kichijōji. In your bed. One of nine in this room.”

Goro squeezed Haru and Futaba’s hands. “Why?”

“You live with all of us,” said another voice. Sumire Yoshizawa. “We’ve been living together for a couple years now. Akira moved back to Tokyo and we all moved in together not too long after.”

“Akira?”

“Yea!” Ann Takamaki. They could tell that laugh anywhere. It was a giggle. She always giggled. It was… something. “Akira Kurusu. You remember him, right?”

Kurusu.

Goro looked around the room, taking in everyone. Even the cat, even Morgana, was here.

There was one person not here, though.

“Where’s Makoto? Makoto Niijima. Where’s she?”

“She’s working late tonight. She’s an officer,” Akira said. “She works the night shift sometimes. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t live here. She does. You live here, too. You’re alive. The engine room did but didn’t kill you, we beat Maruki, and when I came back to Tokyo a few months after leaving, because I was adopted, you were alive.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Akira was quiet. “I know,” he said. “It doesn’t make much sense, but we like that you’re here, in the normal reality, alive.”

Goro took their hands back from Futaba and Haru.

“What are my pronouns?”

“They/them.”

This time, everyone responded in unison. Like they’d practiced that answer; like they new they were going to ask it.

“Yer not the man ya were before, Goro, cuz ya ain’t one. Don’t worry. Yer in the right timeline and it ain’t made up.”

Everyone hummed in agreement.

Goro paused. Then nodded.

“Okay.”

“Feel better now?” Haru asked gently. “Did that help?”

Goro nodded.

“Stay here?” they asked after a few moments of consideration, because they were still uneasy and unsure; they were still confused. “Will you all stay here? I… I mean, stay awake with me? I’m not ready to go back to sleep.”

It was a plea.

Goro didn’t plead, but they were desperate. This was a plea.

There was no argument. Only action.

Ann immediately got a bunch of blankets and pillows.

A couple people in their made some popcorn, seasoned rice, and other snacks.

Ryuji grabbed a couple of movies off the shelf, all of which were lighthearted and fun movies. Nothing too in-depth; nothing too serious.

As soon as Makoto walked through the door, it didn’t take long to fill her in, and they all gathered on the pile of blankets in the living room to watch those movies.

This was right.

Of course it was.

This was their right reality. This was where they were supposed to be… even if they sometimes did seem to forget; even if they sometimes needed help recalling.

Honest mistake.

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