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Getting around the palace of this madman was becoming a real fucking pain. Goro exhales as yet another shadow evaporates at his feet, the thrill of combat a cathartic release from the other thoughts plaguing his mind lately. There were too many holes in Goro’s memory, gaps he couldn’t explain from a logical standpoint that made him think about things. Akira straightens up at his side, fixing his gloves as he scouts around them.
“Say, Crow,” Akira starts, and Goro already knows he won’t be enjoying the rest of this conversation. “If everyone woke up in their ideal reality, don’t you think it’s weird we didn’t?”
“Perhaps our dreams are to have adversaries, Joker.” Goro replies with a sneer, knowing he’s playing a dangerous game by making Akira think about it. “Now, are you done theorizing about pointless nonsense?”
Akira laughs, the sound deep and comforting in ways Goro avoids putting into words. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”
They barely make it down another blank, sterile hallway before a shadow approaches them. Loki stirs at its menacing aura, and Goro reaches for his mask to release him when an invasive thought locks him in place.
If he’s here because Akira wished him to be, doesn’t that mean Goro also wished to be at his side?
“Crow!”
Goro’s reaction time is terrible. He’s shoved away violently, and stumbles to the side as the shadow's attack lands. Goro would have some choice words about it, if Akira wasn’t suddenly lying on the ground in front of him wincing at the ice spread over his chest after being hit with a Bufudyne attack.
“You idiot!” Goro hisses, and rips off his mask to summon Loki. His persona is laughing maniacally as it lunges for the shadow and plunges its sword straight through it with ease. The shadow screams shrilly as it’s defeated, but Goro barely hears it through the blood pounding in his ears.
“Joker,” Goro drops to his knees so they’re eye level, “Has your savior complex become so inane that you’re taking hits for me now?” He examines the wound. He's not bleeding, but the ice is falling away incredibly slowly.
Akira laughs, but it’s a pale comparison to how he sounded before. His teeth chatter as he speaks, “I’m fine, just a little cold. Let’s keep going.”
Akira is most certainly not fine. Goro offers his hand for leverage and Akira takes it, but he holds on longer than he needs to. As they wander down the next hallway, Akira is visibly shivering, the confident strides of Joker completely absent as he folds in on himself. The next battle they fight, he summons a persona that exclusively uses fire skills and spams them. Akira probably thinks he’s being sly with how he inches closer to the combat, but Goro catches on and sighs in annoyance.
“Let’s find a safe room,” Goro says, already checking their surroundings. Akira nods as he crosses his arms over where the attack landed.
When they stumble inside what appears to be a janitor’s closet in the real world, Akira collapses into a chair. He frantically digs through his pockets, producing vials of medicine and bandages Goro saw him use in Sae’s palace. He stacks them onto the table beside him as his hands tremble.
Akira looks over the medicine a bit wistfully the way someone would stare at items locked behind a display case. None of them appear to be what he’s looking for, and he starts putting them away just as quickly. Goro’s personas can’t heal, and they most certainly cannot get rid of whatever this is. Continuing on like this would be dangerous.
“Let’s call it here for today.” Goro pulls out his phone before remembering they’re not in Mementos. They have to head back to the entrance first and retrace their steps through areas that all look the same. Akira shakes his head quickly.
“This will go away eventually. We have to find Sumire.” Puffs of vapor leave his mouth when he speaks. It’s not particularly cold in this room, so Akira’s condition appears to be worsening. “We can’t leave her here!”
“That pathetic excuse of a counselor won’t do anything to her.” Goro says with certainty. “You, on the other hand, are no use to me dead.”
“I’m fine.” Akira insists, but a shiver betrays him. Goro rubs his temple to soothe the headache threatening to form.
“Joker, we’re leaving.”
Akira predictably fights him on it. Goro grabs him by the arm and Akira swats his hand away. In the process of their struggle, Akira tumbles forward and presses fully against Goro’s front. A relieved sigh escapes him, and Goro leaps back like he’s been shocked. Akira shudders at the loss of warmth with a contrary flush across his cheeks, and that’s the end of that.
Heading back is easier since they cleared out most of the shadows beforehand. Akira keeps his usual pace, but every so often will pause to catch his breath through harsh tremors. Goro does his best not to notice.
It’s hard to remember they’re in a palace when the interior resembles every other research facility Goro has been in. When they return to the ‘real’ world, Goro curses the ground Maruki walks on for choosing to pull this shit in January. It’s freezing outside, and the wind is unforgiving as it whips around them.
“What a load of bullshit, no one’s ‘perfect reality’ involves subzero temperatures.” Goro spits out the hair caught in his mouth as he unwinds his scarf from around his neck. He wraps it around Akira without a second thought, avoiding the questioning eyes of the other man. “Wear it, I’m sick of your shivering.”
Akira nuzzles into the scarf with a soft smile and a whispered thank you. The unguarded expression on his face makes Goro consider giving up his jacket, too.
The moon is bright when they arrive in Yongen-Jaya. The train ride from Odaiba had been uneventful, save for Akira constantly pressing against Goro’s side while trying to hide his intent. In the end Goro sighed and initiated the contact himself, holding still as Akira rested his head on his shoulder. Their hands brushed loosely between them, and even through his gloves Goro could feel the cold radiating off of the body beside him.
Aside from being quieter than Goro remembers, the Yongen-Jaya in this reality also houses a certain ghost. Goro grabs Akira by the arm and steers the two of them away as the likeness of Wakaba Isshiki walks down the street. She’s carrying bags of groceries towards the Sakura residence, and doesn’t seem to notice either of them as she rounds the corner and disappears. The voice of Futaba and Morgana ring out together as they welcome her home, and Akira stiffens.
None of the Phantom Thieves have woken up from the dream they’re living in, but Goro would be lying if he said he was surprised. Here is their leader, pressed against his side searching for scraps of warmth, and all of them are oblivious to what state he’s in. Goro becomes irritated when he thinks about how Akira has stood by their side through everything, yet they gave him up for a cheap fantasy concocted by a wannabe god.
“It seems your friends have not yet come to their senses.” Goro lets Akira huddle closer as they approach the cafe. “Do you still have faith in them?”
“I do.” Akira chatters out stubbornly, “They’ll wake up.”
Goro huffs in disbelief. When Akira pulls away to unlock the Leblanc door, he feels the urge to pull him back. These emotions are becoming troublesome, especially when part of Goro knows what awaits him if they manage to return to their reality. Akira promptly makes him forget all that when he stumbles inside and falls over.
“Unbelievable.” Goro grunts, quickly winding his arm around Akira’s back to hold him up. He gives a sharp kick to the door and locks it behind them. “You couldn’t even wait until you were up the stairs to collapse.”
“Sorry, Akechi.” Akira replies, pressing his face against Goro’s neck. “Let me make you some coffee.”
“Can you stop this drivel and use your legs?” Goro grits out, dragging Akira over to the stairs. They take the first step together, and the stairs make a terrible creak under their joint weight. Goro’s free hand clutches the railing so tightly he feels his muscles strain and ache in complaint. He ends up doing most of the walking for the two of them, and practically tosses Akira onto his sorry excuse of a bed the first chance he’s able.
Akira barely manages to shuck off his shoes and coat before diving under the covers, burrowing himself under layers and layers of blankets. Goro presses a hand against the wall and notes how bad the insulation is. The whole attic is cold enough that it feels like they’re outside.
“You can sleep like this?” Goro asks, but there’s no heat behind his words. He’s slept through similar, it’s just surprising Akira has never done anything about it when he clearly could just ask Sojiro to turn up the heating.
“Yep,” Akira replies. He tugs the blankets closer around himself, and the tip of Goro’s scarf peeks out from underneath. “I’ll be better tomorrow. Thanks for walking me back, you don’t have to stay. ”
“I wasn’t planning to.” Goro scoffs, and turns to leave. When he reaches the top of the stairs, Akira must think he’s out of earshot because he lets out a whimper. Goro’s resolve withers away, just like that.
“You really piss me off sometimes.” Goro mutters under his breath as he turns back around. He walks over so he's standing next to the bed. Even in the dark, he can see the way Akira’s eyes widen. “Where are your extra blankets?”
“I’m already using them.”
“Where’s your space heater, then?”
“I don’t have one. The blankets and Mona will usually be enough.”
“The thermostat?” Goro tries, feeling more exhausted by the second. Akira just shakes his head.
“You can’t change it without a pin.”
“Akira,” Goro is exasperated enough he’s tempted to go visit the Sakura residence, but the pull Akira has on him keeps him from leaving. It’s rare to see Akira vulnerable, but Goro has seldom felt like he could do anything for him. Akira rarely asked for anything except for his company.
It’s a terrible idea to stay. Goro knows the longer he spends with Akira the more attached he’ll get, and the decision to give this reality up will only become harder. Still, if he’s only to live for another week, or another month, or however long it’ll be until he can get his hands on Maruki and rip him to shreds, he might as well give himself a funeral present.
“Move over.” Goro says finally, shrugging off his coat. He adds it to the pile of blankets and undoes his tie. Akira peeks his head further out from his cocoon on the bed.
“What are you–”
“What does it look like?” Goro snaps, yanking the covers up. When the cold air hits Akira he hisses, and Goro almost feels sympathetic. “Stop pretending like you didn’t cling to me all night for warmth.”
“Sorry,” Akira replies sheepishly, but scoots back against the wall anyway. Goro kicks off his shoes, hears them land with a loud clunk across the room, and settles into the bed beside Akira. His clothes are uncomfortable to sleep in, but waking up in Akira’s clothing would definitely fuck up his psyche. Plus, his muscles are so sore from the Metaverse that getting back up would require herculean effort.
Akira keeps his distance, but Goro can’t deal with his shivering. The bed is so small it shakes him too, and he feels his hands twitch with the urge to do something. He’s also suffocating under the heat of the blankets, but if he lifts them up or moves away his reason for staying would fall apart. It’s a ludicrous situation, and after ten minutes Goro gives up pretending he’ll get any sleep tonight if they continue like this.
“Akira.” Goro turns around to face him, and finds Akira peering up at him through the mess of curls on his face. “Come here.”
“Are you sure?” Akira whispers into the space between them, but inches closer. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I wouldn’t have stayed if I was uncomfortable.” Goro replies seriously. He drapes one arm against the shared pillow and rolls his eyes. “If you don’t hurry the fuck up, I’m leaving.”
Goro barely catches Akira’s smile before he surges forward. He grunts as Akira’s face collides against his chest. He’s frigid, and Goro barely keeps himself from tugging Akira as close as possible. He settles for loosely holding him around the shoulders.
“‘S’okay?” Akira asks, muffled against Goro’s sweater. Goro nods before realizing Akira can’t see it.
“Fine.”
"You're so warm." Akira practically purrs, nuzzling in closer as his own arms snake around Goro's back. "...I'm happy."
"You can thank me by not dying to hypothermia." Goro bites back, but his threatening tone sounds weak even to his own ears. His face is flushed from hearing those words in Akira's sleepy voice. It's been a long day. "Goodnight."
"Night."
Goro stays up until he's certain Akira's asleep. He considers slipping out of bed and leaving in the middle of the night. It would be easier than staying over once and waking up with the knowledge this will never happen again. It's an asinine thought to hope Akira will remember this night long after Maruki is defeated.
Goro leans forward slightly, careful not to jostle the body nestled against him, and presses the lightest of kisses to Akira's forehead. The freeze ailment seems to be wearing off, but Akira is still slightly cold to the touch. He might as well stay.