Archive of Our Own

“This is fucking stupid.”

Predictably, everyone ignores Goro’s well-thought-out criticism for their Halloween plans, and that only serves to make him quietly seethe more. He doesn’t understand what the big deal about Halloween is to the group, anyway; once past a certain age, it hardly means anything beyond dressing in skimpy clothes and drinking to the point of unconsciousness. That is certainly not Goro’s idea of fun, but the Phantom Thieves of Hearts—ever a thorn in Goro Akechi’s side—aren’t hearing him. 

He would go as far as to say that they’re flat-out ignoring him. Rude.

“This is stupid,” Goro says again, as if saying it for the umpteenth time will make the group listen to him. Beside him, Sumire offers him an apologetic look, but she looks far too excited about this idea to actually mean her apology. 

Traitor.

“I think it’s a good idea, Goro-senpai,” she tells him. Of all the things to finally draw the group’s attention to him, it’s Sumire to do so. Wonderful. “It’s just for a bit of fun, and it’s not like we can go into the Metaverse anymore. Why not?”

Goro raises a hand and puts a finger up for each of his points. “We’re too old for Halloween. The only reason for Halloween is to get free candy from strangers as children or get utterly trashed as adults, and we are neither. What’s the point of dressing up if we’re just going to end up at someone’s house anyway?”

“Uh, because it’s fun?” Ryuji is staring at him like Goro is the moron of the group, not everyone else, and it only feeds into his annoyance. “Dude, you gotta lighten up a little.”

“You can’t say you’ve never wanted to wear someone else’s outfit, either,” Ann nearly sings, waggling her eyebrows at him for reasons that escape him. 

Goro’s mind drifts to piercing red gloves, a dramatic jacket with coattails flying as he runs, and a white mask that’s haunted both his dreams and his nightmares since he first laid eyes on it. He can see it clear as day, pure white like the soul of its owner; he can also see it stained red, smoke coming from the pistol held in his own hand—

“No,” Goro says, belatedly realizing that he’d been quiet a moment too long. Ann’s waggling eyebrows only get more intense, and Goro has half a mind to shove her muffin in her face to get her to stop. “No, never.”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit,” he hears Ryuji mutter. Goro pretends he didn’t for all of their sakes. 

“I’m for the idea,” says the person sitting in front of him, and Goro looks down at the mop of messy black hair with a scowl. The head tilts back, and his eyes lock onto Akira’s: annoyed meeting mischievous. 

“Of course you would be,” he grumbles, ignoring how Akira’s smirk seems to grow. “We don’t exactly have photos of our old outfits to go off of, though.”

“Luckily for us, I’ve drawn a sketch of each,” Yusuke says from his corner. Goro’s surprised he’s even paying attention with how intense his focus seems to be on his cup of ramen. “Each was so exquisite and unique that I captured them on paper as we encountered them. The feet of your Black Mask outfit were particularly intriguing.” His head tilts to the side. “Your spirit of rebellion envisions feline toes rather than shoes?”

Futaba snickers at Yusuke’s side, and Goro wants to die. 

“I—I was fifteen when I got it,” Goro hisses, leaning back against Akira’s desk as if it’ll offer him the support its owner clearly isn’t. “Never mind that. Fine, we have the sketches. How will we make them?”

“We can be resourceful,” Makoto says seriously. “People do cosplay all the time, so if people want to make their own costumes, we can find the proper materials.”

“And if all else fails, we can always contact my seamstress,” Haru chimes in. “She’ll be more than happy to take on such challenging outfits, I’m sure!”

He sees Ryuji frown. “But uh, how would she do Morgana’s? He’s a cat.”

The cat in question pounces from Akira’s lap to the middle of the table, nearly knocking Futaba’s laptop off and ignoring her shout. 

“I am not a cat, remember? Besides, why would I want to be anyone but myself?” Morgana sniffs, but Goro sees through the bullshit. Haru apparently does too, considering how she rubs at his ears. 

“Morgana can be whoever he wants. If there are no more objections, we can draw at random to see who wears which outfit—that way there are no doubles.”

Goro sighs as everyone nods in agreement. He doesn’t want to be involved in this ridiculousness, but the former thieves always insist on including him in group activities for whatever the reason. He waits as Makoto writes everyone’s names on slips of paper, puts them into an empty cup, and shakes it around to shuffle them well. One by one, each person grabs a slip, some giggling while others look like they’d rather be anyone else. 

There are only three papers left by the time Makoto gets to him, and Goro wrinkles his nose. Some choice he has. 

“Akechi, come on,” she says, and Goro slowly, slowly reaches into the cup. 

His fingers grasp around a slip and tug it out, though Goro keeps the slip closed until Akira and Makoto take the remaining two slips of paper. Akira takes a glance at him too fast for Goro to analyse, and his expression doesn’t betray who he could have gotten. He then stands, chair almost knocking into Goro, and looks at everyone like he used to during their Phantom Thief days. 

“Alright, let’s break for the night,” Akira says. “If you want to make your own outfit, reach out to me or Makoto and we’ll get materials gathered. If you want it made for you, reach out to Haru for specifics.” Goro hears his smirk rather than sees it. “Have fun, everyone.”

The group starts to break, some lingering in the attic Akira calls a room while others migrate downstairs to bother Sojiro. Goro stays where he is, waiting until everyone is otherwise occupied before looking down and reading his slip of paper. 

Joker .

… Well. Shit. 

——

“Okay,” Makoto says with a clap of her hands. “Who here has actually made a cosplay before?”

Goro is unsurprised to see Futaba’s hand shoot right up, looking as if she’s barely keeping a spiel about her cosplay behind her lips. He’s more surprised to see Akira half raise his hand and most surprised to see Makoto raise her own hand. To his left, Ryuji sprawls his limbs out without a care for personal space; Goro has to scoot his chair aside to put distance between himself and the blond’s flailing. It presses him against Akira, if only somewhat, and his face heats up when Akira chuckles at the situation he finds himself in. 

“When did you make a cosplay?” Ryuji asks Makoto. “Scratch that, when did you find the time?”

Pink dusts Makoto’s cheeks, and she straightens her posture. Goro can’t help but smirk at how that little comment affected her so much; she thinks she’s rival-material for Goro when blushing at that? Pathetic. 

“Though I studied a lot, I did have hobbies during school,” she says stiffly. “Hobbies beyond getting into trouble and breaking rules left and right.”

“Yeah, those things were third-year Makoto only,” Futaba teases. “Get your facts right, Ryuji.”

“Anyway!” Makoto claps her hands again. “Ann, Sumire, Haru, and Yusuke seem to be having their outfits made for them by Haru’s seamstresses. That’s always an option if you run out of time or decide against making your own cosplay, but for now, we should figure out what everyone needs for their materials.”

“We can put some of the old Thieves funding toward the materials,” Akira says. Goro glances at him and sees that he’s fallen into leader mode once more. Of course. “Since we aren’t active anymore, the money’s just sitting there. It can help with the more expensive materials.”

Makoto nods and writes in her notebook. “Good idea. It’s technically still part of thief activity too, so we can use it without future issue.”

“Were you planning on thieving again with that money?” Goro asks dryly. He hears Ryuji and Futaba snicker, and the corner of his lips twitches up into a smirk. “So much for Officer Niijima.”

His smirk widens into a wicked grin when Makoto’s annoyance shines clear on her face, only dimming somewhat when Akira nudges him and gives him a look to stop. Luckily, it seems like Akira’s fighting a smirk back too, so Goro can’t even be mad at the minor scolding. 

Makoto, to her credit, is still very composed. “No, but you never know when funding might be needed. It’s smart not to spend every bit of money you have on frivolities.”

She stands from her seat and walks over to her whiteboard, where Goro can see a fair number of different shop names and potential materials. “It’ll be easiest to make a mass order of fabrics and materials, so get those to either me or Akira as soon as possible.”

"Sounds good," Ryuji says, standing up and heading over to Makoto. "Okay, so I'm gonna need a lot of leather, especially since I'm going as—"

"No!" Futaba physically tackles Ryuji to the ground, shaking the whiteboard with their crash and forcing Makoto to jump back unless she wanted to be landed on. "Uh-uh, not a word about who you're going as, Ryuji!"

"Why the hell not?" the blond asks, rubbing his head and looking distinctly annoyed. Goro can't say he blames him; it looked like a rough fall.

"Where's the fun in knowing who everyone is going as?" she asks, finally getting off of Ryuji and looking at everyone in the room. "Don't you want the surprise? We all remain in the dark until Halloween and, when we finally meet up, are either impressed by our mad costume making skills or laugh our butts off at how horribly they've turned out."

"Or," Makoto says. "We can just make this easier on everyone and not cause tension in the group."

"Ugh, don't be lame, Queen." Futaba's eyes land on Goro, and he has a distinctly bad feeling about the look she gives him. "What do you think, Akechi? We can make it a competition to see who can make the best costume and everything. Winner is declared when we meet up."

Goro isn't a good person, but he likes to think he hasn't earned any ire from anyone recently. Though he's been forced into these so-called friend outings, he typically keeps to himself unless he's in the mood for causing trouble. Certainly, the trouble he has caused recently isn't enough to warrant being baited into Futaba's competition, but here she is, saying the exact words that would reel him in. 

Just as he is here falling for her damn bait.

"Clearly I'll make the superior costume," he says before he can stop himself, and he ignores Makoto's groan in favor of Futaba's grin and the smirk Akira gives him. He pointedly doesn't look at Akira and show that he sees it; he won't give him the satisfaction of amusement at Goro's expense. "She has a point, in any case. If the person whose costume we're making knows we're making their outfit, there will be additional stress on the person creating the outfit in question. It's best this way."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Akira says, and this time Goro looks at him only to almost look away immediately. He can't handle Akira's fond smile. He did nothing to deserve it other than stating the obvious. "Secrets and a competition sounds good to me. Everyone else in?"

Judging by Ryuji's nod and Makoto's sigh, Goro is inclined to say that they have a competition on their hands now. Luckily, most thief outfits were made of the same or similar material as one another, so ordering fabric in bulk isn't an issue. The group eventually splits off, leaving Leblanc once again (where else would the former Phantom Thieves meet other than their old hideout?), and Goro immediately opens up the document Yusuke sent the group with each outfit design.

Joker's outfit looks relatively simple. How difficult can it be to sew a jacket and vest together? The worst part might be finding shoes like the ridiculous heels Akira wore in the metaverse, but he can worry about that later. 

For the record, Goro still thinks this entire thing is stupid and immature. There's no reason to celebrate Halloween like they are, and even if he conceded to the event, his opinion hasn't changed. 

However.

Not only does he get to try and recreate Akira's ridiculous outfit, but now there's competition involved, and Goro Akechi refuses to lose in a competition if he can help it. He's going to make the best damn outfit the thieves have ever seen, and none of them will stop him.

Goro ignores the giddiness he feels and immediately finds his train to go home, several shop tabs open for materials not funded by the Phantom Thief budget. He has a lot of work to do.

——

It turns out that Joker’s outfit is a lot harder to make than Goro had initially anticipated.

The supplies, thankfully, aren’t an issue—between Akira’s remaining metaverse funds and Makoto’s eye for suppliers, there’s more than enough to go around between all the participating thieves. Ryuji, of course, immediately dives into the pile of goods and grabs whatever his hand touches; Goro assumes they’re all meant for his costume, but he’s never entirely sure what’s going through the boy’s brain. 

Futaba and Makoto are much more careful picking out their materials, though it’s hard to tell outright who has what thief with how dark the majority of their outfits are. The only ones that truly stand out are Ann’s catsuit and Goro’s own prince outfit, with the remainder having dark colors to some degree. Goro tries to take a peek at what materials Akira picks out, but he’s extremely secretive about it. 

Apparently, he’s taking this “secret costume” thing more seriously than even Goro anticipated (then again—as if he’ll let him get ahead).

Goro’s apartment is soon filled with crafting materials, fabrics, necessary tools, and a mannequin he found in a thrift store. Papers cover his coffee table with instructions on how to sew and create proper patterns, and Yusuke’s rendition of Joker’s outfit is both pinned to his corkboard with other notes and among the mess on his table. The amount of detail the artist put into the drawing is extraordinary; from the wrinkles in Joker’s slightly baggy pants to the minute stitches along the hem of his jacket, Goro has everything he needs to get started on the perfect Joker outfit replica. 

(He hates that he has to cave and go to Haru for the mask, boots, and gloves, but there’s only so much Goro can do in such a short amount of time.)

With everything planned out so meticulously, it’s only logical that he succeeds in creating the vest, pants, and jacket. He can see every step play out in his head from start to finish, and Goro is confident that he can do this with little to no problem. 

The first time his thread rips and makes him start over, then, is understandably frustrating. 

The second time is equally as frustrating, and Goro stares at his extremely faulty costume as his seams fall open, loose and mocking, while his threads knot constantly and he has to waste precious time undoing his mistakes. The fabric looks less like clothes and more like Frankenstein’s monster: pieces shoved together that could technically be what he’s aiming for but, in reality, lands far off the mark. He can’t believe how difficult sewing actually is and suddenly gains much more respect for those who choose to do this for a living.

Maybe the vest is the issue. It looks simple, yes, but there are more details than Goro initially anticipated. The pants and jacket look much simpler, so surely he can complete those easily and come back to the vest. Time is of the essence, after all, and he sets to work with renewed enthusiasm. He’s not about to let some fabric defeat him. 

As it turns out, sewing is much more difficult than it looks on television. He knew that beforehand, yes, but Goro had naively thought he could do it easily as he’s done nearly everything else. His stitches are completely uneven, though, and sewing into leather without previous experience quickly proves to be a mistake once he sees his misshapen holes visibly remain after he undoes his stitches. Pleather isn’t much better, and the vest still refuses to cooperate. 

He wants—no, needs —to do this on his own, but Goro Akechi knows when to accept defeat. With days left until the party, he reluctantly picks up the phone and messages Haru to put her seamstresses to work on his outfit. Goro always feels awkward when he makes contact with Haru, but after a few years, they’re on polite enough terms that he at least doesn’t have to go through a third party to speak with her anymore. 

It makes the secrecy thing a little easier. 

”Are you sure this will be finished on such short notice?”

“Don’t worry, Akechi-san. My seamstresses are some of the best, and since they took your measurements there will be no need to worry!”

“If you say so.”

He anxiously awaits for his outfit to be completed in the days following his message to Haru, and when it finally arrives, Goro feels frozen. 

Goro stares apprehensively at the garment bag in front of him, untouched since Haru’s staff dropped it off at his apartment. Logically, he knows he only has a few hours to get ready for the party—Leblanc isn’t exactly down the street, and no one will question a teenager walking around in a costume on Halloween. He’s relatively certain that he’ll find a good number of people in various costumes on the train to Yongen-Jaya as well, so he won’t stand out too much. 

Illogically, putting on Joker’s costume almost feels… wrong .

Goro can’t say he never imagined what he’d look like wearing Akira’s outfit, but to actually don the gear is intimidating in a way. This outfit belongs to the boy he manipulated and tried to kill during one of the worst years of his miserable life. This outfit represents everything he’s not: morally good, naturally talented, and the perfect leader. 

Once, he called himself Akira’s perfect opposite. Wearing Joker’s outfit would be like wearing the inverse of himself. 

The clock is ticking, though, and despite himself, Goro wonders who had the misfortune of drawing his name. They’ll likely wear his prince costume, and Goro won’t blame them—it’s dramatic, yes, but at least it doesn’t have claws that can harm someone. 

(It also doesn’t have really cool belts, but that’s neither here nor there.)

He pushes himself off of his bed and finally unzips the garment bag, Joker’s outfit being displayed in all of its glory. It looks like a perfect replica; he has to give praise to Yusuke and the seamstress’s talents. Goro lightly runs his fingers down the leather coat, his eyes following the path his fingers make to the floor, where Joker’s shoes sit. Tucked away in a box dropped off with the garment bag are Joker’s bright red gloves and infamous mask, the mask staring up at him when Goro opens it. 

It’s just a damn costume. Suck it up.

Goro takes a calming breath and begins to change into the costume, being meticulous with every detail. He curses Akira’s messy hair, straightens his best one too many times, and briefly wonders how the hell Akira pulled half of his stunts off in heeled boots (no matter how small the heel) before he’s finally finished and examines himself in the mirror. 

The outfit… looks good. Very good, actually—Goro will have to thank Haru’s seamstress for doing such a good job. The clothes are tight, but not because they’re too small; of course Akira would have a form-fitting top. He’d been uncertain about the baggy pants paired with the boots, but somehow Goro makes it work like Akira does. His hair is an absolute mess, and that’s with most of it pulled back into a ponytail (almost like the time Akira did this to him at that cafe so long ago).

The coat is, of course, dramatic like his gloves, but Goro expects nothing less from Joker. He finally puts on the mask and somehow that feels… intimate . It’s as if Akira puts it on Goro himself, which is absolutely absurd. 

The outfit looks really good. Goro does one more once-over on the details, then leaves his apartment before he can change his mind about attending the party at all. He just feels sorry for whoever got stuck with him as their costume. 

——

Though he knew plenty of people were going to be in costumes on the train, it didn't make traveling while in full thief gear any less awkward. Goro knows he was getting weird looks the entire time, but whether they were good looks or not, he's still yet to decide. It's a relief to finally step into the familiar streets of Yongen-Jaya, the neighborhood quiet compared to the part of the city he lives in and infinitely more relaxing.

Or maybe that's just because of who he associates with these streets.

He ignores that particular train of thought and makes his way to Leblanc, arms wrapped around himself to fight off the cold that  Joker's jacket doesn't quite block out. The closer he gets to the little cafe, the more noise Goro can hear from inside of it; evidently, some of the former thieves are already inside. The group has always been loud, but the fact that Goro can hear them over the generic pop music also making its (muffled) way through the shop's walls only marginally prepares him for the cacophony of noise that meets him once he opens the door.

The first thing he notices is a loud scream coming from upstairs, making both himself and those downstairs wince. Goro quickly shuts the door and looks at Sojiro, who seems to want nothing more than ibuprofen at the present moment. The man nods to him like he does every time Goro enters Leblanc and slides a mug across the counter.

"Kid made it for you before heading upstairs," Sojiro says. "He thought you'd be cold."

Goro pointedly ignores how his cheeks heat up and reaches for the mug. "Thank you, Sakura-san. Everyone's upstairs, I'm assuming?"

"Well, almost." He nods to a booth, where Goro sees Ann and Haru talking. "If you need quiet, just come down here."

"I will."

He looks at the girls behind him again curiously, his head tilting to the side as he takes in their costumes. Ann's mask is off, but the fluffy tail attached to her waist is a dead giveaway for who she's supposed to be. Fox's outfit isn't as skin-tight as her own, but she seems comfortable in it nevertheless. Across from her sits Haru, who is revealing much more than she does as Noir in Violet's costume. Goro is reminded by how similar Sumire and Akira's costumes are to one another, just as he's reminded of the jealousy he continues to feel because of it. It's almost like Sumire staking a claim on Akira, ridiculous as it sounds, but it's not like he has to worry anymore. 

At least, he doesn't think so.

The two are leaning across the table toward one another, hands folded together, and Goro suddenly feels like he's intruding on a moment he shouldn't be. Not that it matters—Haru looks over at him and catches his eye with a polite smile.

"Oh, your outfit turned out well!"

He brushes at his sleeve and nods. "It did. Thank you, Okumura-san, and thank your seamstress for me."

"Hm?" Ann turns around and grins. "Oh, I knew it! I thought you got Joker—you seemed way too intense about your outfit to not be."

Haru giggles, and Goro presses his lips together. "Right then. I'll head upstairs to see what the screaming is about, I suppose." He looks pointedly at their hands and smirks when they both blush. "Enjoy your evening, Fox and Violet."

He turns and heads upstairs before they can answer, cradling his drink in his hand, and is once again met with noise at full blast. The source of the screaming, apparently, is Futaba (not that he's very surprised). She's waving a hat around at Yusuke, the feather of Noir's cap comically hitting the man on the nose, and shouting about— ah .

"—and the pattern is all wrong!" she continues. "There's no green there, how did you even see that? I thought you were supposed to be a detailed and accurate artist, Inari."

"Excuse me?" Yusuke yells back. "I assure you that my sketches are precise . It isn't my fault you don't remember your own thief outfit, Oracle."

"Don't know my—?! Oh, you're going to eat your words, you beanpole."

Futaba hops onto Yusuke and clings to him like a koala, causing Makoto and Ryuji, of all people, to rush in and break them apart. A flash of black indicates that Morgana joins the fray, but Goro can hardly see how a cat will separate two teenagers from a fight. Someone walks to his side in bright red, but Goro doesn't bother pulling his eyes away from the scene in front of him. 

"Looks like we finally have our fearless leader with us," Sumire says with a giggle. Goro snorts and shakes his head.

"I've yet to see Akira, so I'm afraid your fearless leader hasn't arrived yet."

"I meant you, obviously." She leans in front of him, hair falling over her shoulder, and presses a finger to the center of his mask. "The thieves are nothing without Joker, after all, and here he is. You look good, Goro-senpai."

He wants to be grumpy—why did she poke him?—but he's always had a soft spot for Sumire. He can't entirely be mad, though he doesn't hide his annoyed scowl. Sumire, of course, only grins and reaches for her tail to twirl around. 

"You look good as well, Sumire," Goro finally says. The costume is fairly accurate, after all; he once again has to compliment Haru's seamstresses for their attention to detail. His eyes wander and fall back to the scuffle, focusing on Makoto and Ryuji's mediation. "Did either of them make their own outfits in the end?"

"Makoto-senpai did, I believe," she responds. "She did well, considering all the detail in Skull's outfit. Ryuji-senpai couldn't quite capture Queen so he got help. I think Futaba made her own as well, and Akira-senpai made most of his outfit. He needed a little bit of help."

He looks around the small attic, most furniture pushed aside for cheesy Halloween decorations. "I'm surprised he isn't here already."

"He was waiting on one more piece of his outfit, if I remember right."

Considering how all the other thieves are accounted for, Akira must have drawn his name, then. The thought thrills him, but he's not sure how he'll feel seeing Akira in his prince outfit. "I can't imagine what he would be missing. The prince outfit is hardly overly complicated."

Sumire doesn't say anything, and Goro is met with confusion when he looks at her. "What prince outfit?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but footsteps sound on the steps that sound eerily familiar. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge, and Goro turns around fully just as Akira enters the attic. He fully expects to see the blinding white and red of his metaverse outfit, but that's far from what Goro is met with. Instead, he's met with black and blue stripes, claws on his gauntlets and toes, many, many (cool) buckles, and a sharp helmet with red-tinted lenses in front of his eyes. 

Akira is... he's dressed as Black Mask , not as the princely Crow Goro expected. While everyone starts complimenting him on the outfit, all Goro can do is stand there speechlessly.

Never in his life did Goro expect anyone to dress themselves in that outfit. He's the first to admit that he goes overboard as Black Mask, not that he regrets that at all. He knows for a fact that he freaked the thieves out as his true self, using the Call of Chaos to double his damage on shadows in Maruki's reality and being more bloodthirsty than even Haru at her most violent. He was— is —the complete opposite of the minor celebrity he'd made himself out to be for years, and Goro long accepted that no one would like the most feral part of himself like they did his perfect little facade.

Maybe he shouldn't be surprised that Akira went for this version of him. He's one of the few completely unbothered by Goro at his worst and his best; they truly are two of a kind. No one understands Goro as Akira does, and of course, the sentimental idiot would go for this .

He would try to make Goro emotional in front of all their his friends at their Halloween party. Asshole.

Akira walks up to Goro, who hasn't moved since seeing Akira walk in, and grins at him. "So? How do I look?"

Goro stays quiet for a moment, looking him up and down. "... Could use a few more buckles."

"Please tell me you're messing with me."

Goro's lips quirk up. "You'll never know." He takes a deep breath and looks at Akira's outfit again, the familiar design still staring him in the face no matter how much he blinks. Distantly, he's aware of Sumire and Makoto ushering the crowd downstairs for some of Sojiro's food, and the attic becomes much quieter than it's been since he stepped into Leblanc. Goro licks his lips and gets the question burning in his mind out before he can decide against it. "Why this outfit?"

Akira frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I expected the prince outfit," he says. "The one I initially joined you all with. This is..."

"You."

"... Pardon?"

Akira shakes his head and takes Goro's hand in his. Goro once again pretends he's not turning bright red from the contact. 

"I know both outfits represent you," Akira starts, eyes practically burning a hole through his face with how intensely he's staring at Goro. He opts to stare at the coffee in his free hand while Akira talks. "but I didn't feel like you truly showed me who you are until you put this outfit on. For me, it represents you ."

Goro snorts and tears his eyes away from his coffee to scowl at Akira. "Don't sell me on that bullshit. I literally tried to kill you wearing that thing."

"And then you saved me," Akira counters, his voice infuriatingly patient. 

"I didn't try to stop Maruki because I had a change of heart. I was doing it for my own selfish reasons and you know it."

"Don't give me that. You obviously cared about the team while we went through the palace—you can't tell me you don't have a soft spot for Ann and Sumire." Akira raises an eyebrow at him. "I know you get together with Ann every week and go to Sumire's gymnastics events. That's not exactly selfish ."

His brain stops, and Goro keeps himself from sputtering indignantly by taking a long sip of his too-hot coffee. His tongue burns, but he doesn't pay it any mind. "Are you stalking me now? You know what, I don't care. There's a reason I didn't come back for over a year."

The hand holding his own squeezes him tightly, and Akira actually looks upset . "You did, though. You came back. Why would you if you didn't care?"

For once, Goro doesn't have an answer to that. He stares blankly at Akira as his mug is removed from his hand and put to the side, having a hard time comprehending what's happening as Akira continues with, "You showed me the best and worst parts of you wearing this. Why wouldn't I dress as your true self?"

He hates this, hates how he gets choked up from hearing someone (perhaps his most important someone) metaphorically and verbally accept everything Goro hates about himself. Truthfully, he still hates those parts of himself, but he's learning to make peace with them. He just hadn't expected anyone else to truly do the same, not even Ann or Sumire. Something wet touches his cheek, and Goro is absolutely horrified when he realizes it's tears. He's... he's crying , what the fuck? He reaches up and wipes angrily at his face; thankfully, Akira doesn't mention it. He just takes Goro's other hand and tugs him closer, Goro going with him willingly. 

"You're the most absurd person I've ever met," Goro says quietly, finally meeting Akira's eyes. "I'll never understand you."

Akira, the bastard, grins at him cheekily. "Then let me understand enough for the both of us."

"Oh no, absolutely not. I'll understand you if it's the last thing I do."

"Will you now? Well—"

A loud groan comes from the bottom of the stairs, making both of them jump, followed by Ryuji's voice. "Oh my god , just kiss already so we can decide who has the best costume!!"

"Ryuji!" Ann's voice yells, followed by a smack and a whine from the boy in question. Goro rolls his eyes and looks at Akira.

"Well then. Get that ridiculous helmet off so I can kiss you, you fool." His lips quirk up as Akira positively beams, shoving the mask to the top of his head and moving Goro's up as well.

"You know this is your mask, honey," Akira teases. "You just called yourself ridiculous."

"Just shut up," Goro says, reaching out and tugging Akira into a kiss. He feels warm when Akira immediately reciprocates and tugs Goro in closer, head tilted up to deepen it. Goro swears he hears either a cheer or a groan from one of the misfits downstairs (or maybe on the stairs for all he knows or cares), but it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. None of it does when Akira's lips are finally pressed to his own and he feels warmer than he can ever remember feeling.

In the end, no one can decide who has the best Halloween costume since Haru’s seamstresses made most of them. Akira insists that Makoto is the clear winner, but Sumire is adamant that Futaba did the best out of the two to actually make their own costumes. There is, of course, a lot of arguing amongst the group, but Goro has long since accepted that arguing is how the misfits communicate. 

It’s then that Ann takes out a paper crown from somewhere (he knows not to question where from) and puts it on top of Morgana’s head, declaring that his Jack Frost outfit is clearly superior. To save any more arguments from breaking out, Akira agrees, and the group can finally begin partying in earnest.

Goro still thinks dressing up for Halloween is absolutely stupid, yes, but if this is the result of a little costume fun, he doesn't mind it so much.