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Goro’s hands clench in his pockets. His face remains calm. Joker’s dragged him to speak with the phantom thieves; he’s made Goro a part of their little thing, against his will. It was stupid of Goro, really, to hold on to the notion that he and Joker would be able to work alone.
For a day, it was tolerable. He bit his tongue and drummed the claws of his garish outfit on walls to annoy the repressed freak. He faked a limp behind Joker’s back to get Sakamato to start shit. It was nearly enjoyable. Nothing compared to the actual freedom of days prior, when he and Joker and their tag along, Yoshizawa, were making progress, but still. Tolerable.
Goro could put up with dungeon crawling alongside Joker’s little mystery gang. He drew the line at being forced to attend the meetings. Joker had the decency to leave Goro out of most things; they played darts alone, at the fucking least. This, though, seemed to be Joker’s breaking point- where he stopped respecting Goro’s wishes even mildly.
So here Goro stands, clenching his fists and leaning faux-casually against the counter of Leblanc. At least the older Sakura is willing to give him coffee in this fake world. He orders something sweet to spite Joker. Of course, Joker isn’t paying attention to him right now. He’s talking to Takamaki, suggesting ways she could improve her defense. Without thinking, Goro cuts in, “She could wear something more protective, if she’s so concerned with her safety.”
The café falls silent. Goro sips his coffee and politely smiles. He adjusts his gloves as he sets the cup down- small, casual things that normal people do in conversation. “It just occurred to me,” he says, keeping his tone kind. “That wearing something with more coverage might fix her issue.”
Takamaki glares. Goro rolls his eyes. She’s lucky he's being nice; he could've called her a slut outright. “I would if I could,” she says. Her voice shakes. “Not everyone here can just change their clothes in the metaverse whenever they want.”
“Remarkably salient point, there,” Goro responds. His voice and gaze remain kind. The mask is in place. “Truly, though, if you actually wanted to protect yourself, your outfit should reflect that, no?”
“That’s enough, Akechi,” Sakamato says. He looks seconds away from marching over to Goro and decking him.
“I’m only adhering to your logic. Or rather, the cat’s logic. Since none of you can think for yourselves concerning the metaverse.” Goro slips his hands back into his pockets. As soon as they’re out of sight, he clenches them. The one concession he can convince himself to make when being on his best behavior. In gloves, his hands are his business. It doesn’t matter if he bites them if they’re covered. It doesn’t matter if he clenches them if they’re put away. He makes eye contact with Joker, whose gaze flickers to Goro’s pockets and back up. Joker raises an eyebrow.
Of course he would know intimately Goro’s every method of coping.
Goro’s smile remains placid and polite. He breaks eye contact with Joker to return to antagonizing the Hardy Boys. Rather bravely, the girl whose father he killed pipes up, “We’ve learned a lot about the metaverse on our own!”
Goro looks over to her. She crumples like paper and slips behind Nijima junior, who says, “There’s no reason to be so rude, Akechi. We’re on the same side.”
Of course. Just like last semester, when they were on the 'same side’ and he died. “Right,” he says. “Just a friendly suggestion.”
“Weird that you’re paying any attention to what she’s wearin’ at all, dude,” Sakamato glares. “Kinda sus.”
Goro nearly vomits in his mouth. Before he can think, the friendly mask is off of his face and he’s snarking, “As if I’d ever give someone like that a second look.”
Sakamato doesn’t miss a beat. “Right. Sure. What are you, gay?”
Goro scoffs. “Oh yes, you’ve figured me out. The only way I could possibly resist the allure of Takamaki’s ebullient personality is by being a queer. Remarkable sleuthing.”
Sakamato’s brow furrows. “Hey, you can’t just-”
“What. Call myself a queer? Worried I’m going to hurt the feelings of the closeted freak in the room?”
“Dude, that’s-”
Goro rolls his eyes. It’s exhausting, being passive aggressive. He bends his fingers back so hard in his pocket he’s hoping they break. “Oh, is outing only ok when one of you tries it?”
“I was joking, you asshole,” Sakamato glowers. He shoots a nervous glance to the closeted freak, who’s busy staring at nothing and drawing on a napkin.
“Don’t. You’re not funny.”
“I’m seriously going to-”
“Would you like to try-”
Joker stands up. Goro’s mouth snaps shut on its own. Sakamato returns to his seat, which he’d been slowly rising from. “Akechi, outside,” Joker says, his tone neutral. Goro shrugs and stands from his lean on the counter.
“Alright then, if you want to follow up on Sakamato’s deduction so badly-”
Joker glares and Goro shuts it. Of course he does. He's only here to make Joker happy, after all. Whatever Joker wants.