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“Over there!” Futaba calls at the same time as Akira spots the distinctive distortion. It’s the same eerily different entrance to a shadow’s room as the rest of Maruki’s addition to Mementos has been, a holographic rainbow of twisting tracks. Mona obligingly turns towards it, and with a swirl of distortion they’re through. A woman sits in the middle of the small room, dead yellow eyes staring at her hands in her lap. Futaba pushes her head out a window. “That’s Kuniko Kagami! I knew she’d be the next one. Let’s go change her heart!”
Akira nods and steps out of the Monabus. The rest follow, and Morgana shifts to stand next to him. “Standard team?” Morgana asks, hopping foot to foot.
“Queen, how’s your mana meter?”
Makoto gives him a long-suffering look, as if to say she doesn’t want to understand that wording. “Admittedly low.”
“Alright then. Mona, since I gave you the last drop, you’re back up front for this one. The rest is what we’ve been running with.”
Everyone nods agreement, Yusuke stepping back to guard Futaba while Makoto, Sumi, and Ryuji hang between them and the main guard. Goro crosses his arms and shifts his weight impatiently. Akira shoots him a grin; the eye-roll is visible even behind the red of his visor. Morgana narrows his eyes and peers up at Akira, who decides the best option is to ignore him. Ann flips her hair back behind her shoulders and steps up to the Shadow. “Hey, you’re Kuniko Kagami, right? The mother who isn’t properly caring for her children.”
Kagami blinks at her hands for a long, long moment, before sluggishly raising her eyes. “My child…? Phantom Thieves…?” The Shadow looks between them all for a moment before a look of pain crosses her face and she lowers her head. “I know, I really do, but… I can’t. Please, leave me alone. I don’t deserve to live.”
Most of them flinch at that. Akira closes his eyes for a moment. Yusuke’s voice is solemn in his ear. “Something is wrong with her.”
“Could this be… self-neglect?” Makoto proposes, “Not being able to sustain a normal life to the point where it affects their health…”
“Oh, maybe,” Futaba interjects. “I remember something about the room being messy! So not only was she neglecting her children, she was neglecting herself as well?”
The Shadow seems to take that as her cue to speak. She sounds like she’s crying.
“My father and mother died one after the other… then my husband too. Everyone who supported me is dead. I have no reason to live anymore!”
Every one of the Thieves moves to speak, but it’s Goro’s voice that cuts through their half-formed words, his tone dead-cold. “What about your daughter?” Akira turns, something telling him he needs to look at Goro right now.
“My daughter…? The Shadow tilts her head, staring up at Goro. “My daughter… no.”
Goro flinches.
“No, no she would be happier without me, or--or to die with me--aah--!”
“Crow!”
“Listen here,” Goro snarls. He’d moved so fast Akira didn’t even process he was until he was on the Shadow, holding her up with his clawed fingers in her collar, his beaked helmet in her face, eyes shadowed behind intimidating red. “Your daughter wants nothing more than for you to be alive. Your daughter just lost her grandparents and her father and she wants nothing more than her mother to be. alive. Do you understand?”
“But I--”
“Did you want your daughter?”
“Wh--what?”
“Did you want your daughter?”
“Y--yes--” the shadow stammers. “She--she’s my little angel. I love her. She’s--she’s the last thing I have of my husband.”
Goro’s grip tightens. Ann moves, but Akira grabs her wrist and shakes his head. At her quizzical and slightly concerned look, he just puts a finger to his lips and looks back at Goro. “Then you pathetic excuse for a mother do not get to decide that she is worthless to you. You do not get to decide to leave her all alone. She wants you alive.”
The Shadow stares at him with wide eyes. “You…you’re…”
“I’m what? A monster for making you face the truth?” He laughs hollowly. “I’ve been called far worse.”
The Shadow closes her eyes for a moment, then shakes her head. When she opens them, they’re no longer yellow. “You’re like her.”
Goro drops her as if burned. His posture is so tense that Akira forgets himself and moves towards him, only stopping when Morgana grabs him. “What.”
“I’m sorry. I’m--I’m sorry. And whoever left you, I think they’re sorry too.”
Goro whirls and stalks out of the room, not making eye contact with any of them.
“I won’t do it,” the Shadow calls after him. “I promise I’ll take care of her.”
The Thieves stare at each other and the Shadow as it disappears without a fight. Then they all turn to Akira. He bites his lip and gestures for them all to follow him out of the room. Goro is nowhere in sight, but the trail of destruction he left behind is obvious. The walls of Mementos are slowly mending themselves in his wake, the last remnants of a few shadows smoking on the floor.
“Well,” Haru says, “that was a lot.”
Makoto sighs. “I suppose we should follow him.”
“No,” Akira shakes his head. “Mona, take everyone down to the last safe room.”
“What--but Akechi!”
“If we all follow him, he’ll just shut down for the rest of the time we’re working together.”
“But all that…it’d probably help him to, you know… talk about it.”
Akira sighs, looking at the remnants of a shadow so he doesn’t have to see their faces while he tries to explain this. “Crow isn’t like a lot of us. You know he doesn’t trust easily, and he’s used to just bottling everything up. Because he had to. If we all follow him, he won’t talk about it at all.”
“And you think he’ll talk to you?”
“Yes,” Akira says simply.
Morgana throws his hands up in exasperation. “Why?!”
“Because he already has.”
The Thieves stare at him. Akira continues looking at something sticking out of one of the walls that, on closer inspection, seems to be one of Robin Hood’s arrows. Well, that’s interesting. He hasn’t seen Goro pull Robin Hood out since this entire fiasco started.
“You’re going to need a healer,” Makoto eventually points out.
Akira snaps his fingers and calls out his super-powered Skadi. She’s usually a last resort healer, but, well.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Just trust me on this, okay? I can handle whatever Goro throws at me.”
Morgana gives him an odd look, but huffs and transforms into the Monabus. “Fine. Call us the instant you can, got it?”
“Will do.”
Akira watches the rest of them pile into the Monabus and drive off, leaving him with the company of dissipating shadows and the low groans of movement within Mementos’ walls. He follows the remnants of the shadows, winding around a spiraling ramp and through two different T intersections before finding a platform. All along the route are the remnants of golden arrows and sparkling bless damage, and more than once he finds the clear cross of a Hama skill seared into the walls. The platform itself is smoking, the largest cross of them all forcing Akira to pick his way over to the stairs. “You’re really trying to make this difficult, huh, Crow?” he mutters. He knows that Goro has the most experience of all of them in the metaverse, Mementos especially, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried.
The sound of arrows smashing into walls echoes through the next level. Akira steps carefully around the still fresh remnants of a Mara and two Dominions. He actually sort of feels bad for the Loa beyond them, its snake-filled eye still screaming with the golden arrow pinning its slowly dissipating body to the ground. It all paints a deadly picture, a rampage through the Metaverse. Too much emotion, too much clogged up in one person’s cognition until it spews out in lines of white and black and golden arrows. At least, given there’s no signs of Laevateinn in the walls, Goro probably hasn’t been able to send himself berserk. That would mean that Akira would definitely have to panic-call Futaba and get the rest of the Thieves up here to knock some sense into him.
Akira really does not want to do that.
Finally, Akira spots an intact shadow at the other end of a junction. Holding Arsène at his mask, Akira steps closer--
The shadow roars in pain as a golden arrow splits it in two. It drops to the ground before it can even transform. Behind it is Goro, his mask fully closed, eyes shadowed by red but, Akira is willing to bet, slightly crazed. Not berserk, not with Robin Hood standing proud behind him, but not in a healthy state of mind.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Akira gestures at Robin Hood. “Why’d you pull him out?”
“Answer the fucking question, Joker.”
“I’ll answer yours if you answer mine.” Goro’s you have got to be kidding me face is obvious in his posture. Akira rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll even go first, see? I’m here because I’m worried about you.”
Goro snorts. “Fat fucking chance.”
Akira frowns at him. “Do you see me attacking you?”
“You’re here,” he sneers, “to protect your investment.”
“...my what? Crow, what--”
“You’re here, to make sure I haven’t destroyed something I shouldn’t, to make sure I haven’t killed anyone, correct?”
“What the hell, Crow?”
“Well?”
Akira fumes at him, hands on his hips. “You’re far more than an investment, Goro. You’re my friend, and I know enough to know that that shadow triggered some emotion in your head you’re trying to get out by destroying everything in your path.”
“And why, exactly--”
“Mudoon!” Akira snaps, and Arsène roars out from the shadow of his outstretched hand to eat the Dominion behind Goro alive.
Four more shadows jump them, but Goro is already moving, roaring out “Megidolaon!” even as he jumps towards the nearest of them. His sword slashes its arm, but does little against the Thor that rises from the shadow’s tentacled cloak. Then the Megidolaon hits, sending the Thor and its accompaniment of two Thrones and a Mara stumbling. Akira situates himself in front of the Mara and slips between masks, straightening his back as a surge of the power of Justice courses through him and he calls down Metatron’s Swords Dance on it in a perfect critical hit. Goro laughs behind him, calling out to Robin Hood to do similar with a One-Shot KIll on the Thor. With both of them stunned on the ground, they turn to the two Thrones. “Eiagon,” they both growl, throwing enough power to simply incinerate the Thrones.
Goro looks over at him, clearly grinning behind his mask. “Ready, Joker?”
Akira grins back, high on adrenaline and his favorite person next to him. “As ever.”
The two shadows collapse to the floor, Arsène’s heel blades right next to Akira’s knife, adjacent to Goro’s sword, and topped all off with Robin Hood’s golden arrow.
“Well, that was satisfying.”
Goro raises an eyebrow at him. “Satisfying?”
“Has it ever occurred to you,” Akira says as he sheathes his knife, “that sometimes, I also just want to destroy things?”
“Hm. Perhaps not the healthiest coping mechanism.”
Akira laughs. “You’re one to talk. So, I think it’s your turn. Why Robin?”
Goro looks away from him. “I… didn’t want to pull Loki out so close to her.”
“You’re that upset?”
“I am not upset.”
Akira fixes him with a Look. Unfortunately, Goro seems to be immune to it. He simply turns and keeps walking. “Crow.”
“What? And stop following me.”
“I’m just looking for the next platform.” Goro whirls and Akira puts his hands up in surrender before he can throw a hama at him or something. “I am! I’m just… also walking the same direction as you. On purpose.”
“You are insufferable.”
“That’s my middle name,” he grins back. “Kurusu Insufferable Akira. Given to me right from my mom.”
Goro glances at him sharply and raises a hand and for a fleeting moment Akira thinks what the fuck, Goro , but then he barks “Mahamaon” and blinding light shoots over his shoulder. He turns to find three Molochs pinned to the wall as burning crosses nail their deaths. He looks back at Goro with wide eyes. Goro practically nails him in place with his eyes. “No.”
“No?”
Goro turns and keeps walking without further elaboration. Akira sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets to idly wander after him. They wander through two more junctions, Goro destroying any shadows they run into even before they can transform most of the time. Akira watches crosses burn themselves into the walls, Robin Hood’s arrows sparkle with golden light as they pierce through the shadows, Goro’s sword drip with ash. His form stays perfect even as Akira watches his tense shoulders. A noise catches his ear as Goro pants, hand still extended towards a burning shadow. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what,” Goro snaps.
They’re both silent, but the noise doesn’t happen again. Even more, the shadows don’t seem to be respawning around them. Akira decides to take a chance. “You remember the first time we went to the bathhouse?”
Goro sighs and tips his head back. “So help me god,” he mutters under his breath. “Yes, Joker, I remember that. What, you bringing that up just to embarrass me further?”
“No. I just wanted to say that I understand why you got upset at the Shadow. And thank you for saving that girl.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did,” Akira shoots back. He moves so he’s standing in front of Goro, inches away from his beak, even if the other won’t look him in the eye. “You saved her life, and her mom. She’ll grow up loved. And I want you to remember that it’s okay to be upset.”
“‘M not--”
“Crow.”
Goro trembles in place, staring at him, before collapsing against the wall. “I’m not,” he croaks.
Akira squats down in front of him. “Okay, then what are you?”
“Stop going all therapist on me.”
Akira sighs. “Fine. I’m analyzing what would have happened to her, if you hadn’t stepped in. She would have lost her mother in the worst way possible. She would have been shunted between foster homes, desperate for someone that wanted her, until she was snatched up by a twisted piece of shit who manipulated her for her own ends. But she wasn’t. Because you stepped in. Because she was worth it to you.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I’m the only one you’ve willingly told that story to. Because, if I could go back in time and fix everything, I would.”
“So you’d just remove the worthless child from the equation entirely.”
“No. There is no worthless child in any of these stories. I would go back and give that child the life they deserved, and since I can’t do that, I’ll do it now.”
Goro scoffs. “Give whatever wish Maruki tried to give you for that child? They’re worth nothing, Joker.”
“Goro, you’re worth everything to me.”
Akira watches as Goro freezes, then starts trembling violently, fists clenched by his knees, beaked helmet resting on them in a fashion that keeps Akira from seeing through the eyes. Even so, he’s willing to bet he’s crying. But he knows better than to point that out and simply sits silently, offering his presence as support whenever Goro finally decides he needs it.
Another noise whispers through the floor, setting Akira’s hair on end. He glances out of the little offshoot the two of them are sitting in but sees nothing.
“You have no idea,” Goro forces out, “how much that fucking infuriates me.”
“What?”
“You have no regard for yourself, Kurusu.”
“I have plenty of regard for myself, Crow.”
“If you did,” he yells, standing up so fast Akira has to hurriedly step backward to avoid being smacked with Goro’s mask, “then you wouldn’t be trying to save a murderer. You wouldn’t be trying to tell me you’re in love with a murderer.”
Ah.
Akira doesn't exactly regret letting that spill out a few days ago in a moment of weakness in a very mood-lit Jazz Jin to a relaxed, genuine, Akechi Goro, but Goro is really trying to make him. He takes a deep breath and flexes his hands to rid himself of the urge to shake some sense into him. “Everyone deserves a second chance. Even you. And I can make my own decisions, thank you very much, on who I give one to, and who I’m in love with.”
Goro is trembling with fury and something else. “Why?”
“Because I love you! Because I want you to be happy and I want you to find some damn worth in yourself and I just want you, existing next to me. Even not next to me, if that’s what you want, as long as you’re alive and happy.”
The noise whispers through the floor again, and Akira has a sinking feeling he knows what it is. It’s closer, far closer, the rattling of chains against metal tracks. Goro snarls. “I fucking hate you.”
He says it like he means the opposite. “I know.”
“You shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I am anyway.”
“You have no regard for your own life.”
“Somehow I really doubt you’ll try to kill me again.”
“You shouldn’t trust me like this.”
“I do anyway.”
The rattling of chains gets closer. Akira tenses, fingers in his pocket scrabbling for a smokescreen. Goro doesn’t even move his eyes from Akira’s face. “You’re an absolute moron.”
“Yeah probably.”
“I really want to strangle you right now.”
He gives Goro his best cheeky grin. “But you won’t.”
Goro growls and shouts “Loki,” and for a fleeting moment of panic Akira realizes just how much that might have sounded like a challenge that he probably shouldn’t have given his admittedly murderous rival. And then a flare of purple fire whips through the edge of his vision, not directed at him, but…
But at the Reaper that is currently blocking their way out, and now glowing a distinctive distorted shade of purple.
“Did you just send the Reaper berserk???”
Goro laughs maniacally, just on the wrong edge of sane. Akira glances back at him to find him coated in the same shade of berserk he was on Shido’s ship, manic grin on his face and stance almost feral. Loki is mirroring him behind him, glee visible on a face that has no features. “I am going to enjoy ripping you apart!”
“What the fuck, Goro!”
Goro doesn’t seem even capable of listening to him, dashing forward with his sword ready to swing and crazed laughter flowing behind him like a cape. Akira sighs and summons Orpehus, throwing a Neo Cadenza at him just to ensure he’s at top form for this absolute insanity. The notes surround him with Orpheus’s happy song; Akira wishes it would snap him out of this. Goro isn’t in danger of throwing himself into a psychotic break; he’s doing it with his own Persona which as far as any of them have been able to tell means he gets all the benefits of going berserk without the real-world drawbacks, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the usual metaverse drawbacks, like a complete and utter lack of defense. If only he could summon Skadi, drop an Amrita Drop on him, grab his arm, and get them both out of here.
“Futa—whoa!” Akira attempts but is quickly cut off by having to dodge a Garudyne. He hates fighting the Reaper with the full team, but this?
Goro, of course, seems to be having the time of his life. He easily dodges a Bufudyne and a Ziodyne while still laughing, coming back with his sword slicing straight through one of the Reaper’s guns. The Reaper rears back, but of course, that’s straight into Laevateinn, Loki seemingly grinning behind it. The thing roars in pain and flashes one long arm out in an overpowering Vorpal Blade. Akira curses and dives out of the way, losing track of Goro in the momentary blinding light. “Arsène, can’t you put this thing to sleep?!”
You know better than that.
Akira yelps and stumbles back from a Hamaon he only isn’t destroyed by because Orpheus flicks her fingers and revives him. One more for the day, little Trickster.
“Okay, fine, maybe I do,” he growls. The Reaper had apparently decided that the Hamaon was enough to deal with him, as it has both arms shooting Riot Guns at Goro. Goro himself is grinning maniacally under his helmet, Debilitate hovering above his right hand as his left aims at the Reaper’s face. One of the Riot Guns slams directly into his right arm; he doesn’t even flinch. The Debilitate roars out just behind the first gunshot, sinking into the Reaper’s coat. Three neon red shots sear into the Reaper’s face. It screams and lashes out with Maragidyne. Akira cries out as it slams into him, his space to dodge gone and fire burning through him. He hears a similar scream from Goro and gasps out “ Skadi.”
Skadi appears before him, the warm green light of Mediara enveloping him. She smiles at him before disappearing again, Arsène replacing her. Your magic is low.
“God, I am aware,” he groans and pushes himself up. “Orpheus, give Goro a Heat Riser, and let's hope he doesn’t kill himself.” He feels Arsène slip back into his mask and turns to his pockets. He could’ve sworn he had a soul food or a curry in here…
Wait, no, shit, he’d given out the last of the curry two safe rooms ago, then given Morgana the last soul food on the last floor with the idea of just getting them through the supposed battle with their last request and going back to the last safe room to leave. And Futaba still has his last Soma he’d told her to keep for emergencies.
“Oh, you have got- -METATRON!” The Reaper’s One-Shot Kill slams him into the wall, the returning Swords Dance slicing through its cloak. Goro comes out of nowhere, an Eiagon preceding him and Laevatainn following. The Reaper flicks out a Bufudyne, slamming Goro frozen into a wall. “Shit,” Akira gasps. “Skadi, got anything left for me?”
There is enough for an Amrita Drop.
“Do it.”
Skadi switches out and throws the spell over the Reaper to Goro. Akira pulls his gun out, aiming high, hoping a Down Shot will at least hit. He aims, yells “Hey asshole!” and fires. The Reaper stumbles to the side, turning its glare on him.
Akira has enough sense to realize that this might be a problem. Goro is still picking himself up on its other side, leaning heavily on his sword even with the mania still visible in his posture. Akira has little to no magic left.
It casts Concentrate.
“Oh shit,” he says, and can see Goro’s eyes widening. He may not have as good a sense as Futaba of their surroundings, but he does know enough that if that attack hits Goro, he’s going to need a Recarm skill. A Recarm skill that he doesn’t have the magic for. On top of that, he’s exhausted enough he’s pretty sure if he calls down Metatron’s Swords Dance one more time it might as well kill him too.
A very stupid plan comes to mind. A very, very stupid plan.
“Orpheus,” he whispers, and she comes into being behind him. Arsène in his mask is just as confused as she is, but realizes what he’s planning far faster.
You cannot be serious.
“Got a better idea?” he snarks as he finds what he’s looking for. Arsène fumes. Goro casts him an incredulous look as he holds up his prize, but they don’t have time for explanations. He throws the Accu-Speed at Goro just before the Reaper fires a devastating Megaidolon.
And then he blacks out.
He wakes up just as Goro comes roaring down on the Reaper with a maniacal laugh, Loki right beside him with Laevateinn. It disappears into ash below them. Goro stumbles, barely catching himself on his sword. Loki disappears, and with him the berserker rage around Goro.
“You,” Goro announces, “are an idiot.“
He then collapses unceremoniously to the ground.
For once I am inclined to agree with Crow, Arsène growls at him. Akira groans and manages to use the very last of his magic to have Skadi throw a very, very weak Dia at himself. It gives him enough strength to crawl over to Goro. Still breathing, at the least. He rolls over onto his back next to him and just stares at the ceiling for a minute.
“What the fuck, Goro.”
It’s really a good summation of the past hour.
Akira doesn’t know how long it takes him to get enough energy to pull out his phone and check the map of this area. Them killing the Reaper seems to have scared off anything that would dare attack them, and the one time a shadow came within even thirty meters, Loki somehow managed to summon himself just to growl at it. It scampered away rather quickly. He thinks he can see the platform up one junction away from them, but the one down is on the opposite side of the floor, and there’s three more floors between them and the safe room. Given the layout of the rest of this section of Mementos, it’s entirely likely that the next floor is a safe room. But if it’s not, he’d much rather keep lying here in the ashy remnants of the Reaper than risk going to another floor. If only there was a way to know…hm.
Akira isn’t sure how he actually manages to open the communication part of the metanav, but he does. “Futaba,” he mumbles into his earpiece.
“Joker!” she calls. “What happened? I kept getting crazy readings from Crow, and then both of you dropped off the map for a bit. I could tell you were still in here, but not anything else.”
“Holy shit, man, you sound exhausted,” Ryuji adds.
Akira glances over at Goro’s still unconscious form. “The Reaper showed up.”
“The WHAT?!” the rest of the Thieves exclaim. “What the hell, Joker? Why didn’t you call us?”
“Well,” he starts, and he knows in a few days this is all going to be absolutely hilarious, but right now he really just wants to get to a safe room and sleep for a week. “I was going to run. But then someone decided the best way to work out excess aggression was to send the Reaper berserk. And then follow it up with himself.”
There’s utter silence over the comm. “First thing,” Makoto starts, and she sounds like she has a lot, “are you two okay.”
Not really. “I’m going to have to carry him. And before you ask the next thing, Makoto, he’s unconscious and won’t be able to answer it. I just…” he rubs at his eyes through the mask. He’s so tired. “Futaba, is the next floor a safe room? It’s probably not good for the two of us to keep lying in Reaper guts, but I don’t want to move unless it’s to a safe room.”
Futaba hums. “Lemme… ah, there we go. Yeah, it should be a safe room. Jeez, you really are tired, big bro.”
Akira frowns as he slips his phone back in his pocket and hauls himself to his knees. “What does that mean?”
“You haven’t used a single code name during this conversation.”
He pauses his attempts to wrangle Goro’s unconscious form onto his back. “Oh. Oops. Honestly, I think code names flew out the window about the time Go--Crow decided it was a good idea to send the Reaper berserk. I feel like I’ve yelled nothing but his name for forever.”
“Get to that safe room, Joker. We’ll pile into the Monabus and meet you there to get out of here.”
“Got it. Uh, you probably won’t run into much. Crow and I left quite the swath of destruction.”
Futaba clicks off the comms with a verbal thumbs-up, leaving Akira to finally get Goro into a fireman's carry. Loki summons himself again. Akira stares at his featureless face. The being nods once and disappears once more. “Why are your Personas as cryptic as you are,” he grumbles. Arsène gives a tired laugh in his head.
The walk to the platform feels like he’s fighting the Reaper all over again. It's barely forty meters away, and every step feels like a hundred. Goro’s considerable weight doesn’t help. (No, he scolds himself, do not think about Goro’s muscles.) By the time they get to the stairs, his legs are shaking. “Come on, Joker,” he says to himself, “just a little more.”
You can do it, mon chouchou.
“What did I say about the cabbage one?”
Arsène laughs, but his annoyance does get him up the stairs. He doesn’t even bother stumbling over to the chairs, simply managing the two steps to the wall and carefully dropping Goro to the ground. He joins him quickly, slumping down to the floor. “God, what the fuck, Goro.”
Goro doesn’t stir. Akira sighs and reaches around to pull his helmet off, freeing sweaty sandy-brown hair and a flushed face. Careful adjustment situates his head in Akira’s lap. It’s a better pillow than the ground at the least. “Okay, honey,” he whispers, “just get some sleep. I’ll ask what the fuck when you wake up.”
“I can’t believe he didn’t call us,” Morgana grumbles.
Futaba, currently in his passenger seat, shrugs. “He probably didn’t have the chance to, if Crow decided to be a reckless idiot.”
“Crow is always a reckless idiot!”
“Now that’s not true,” Makoto points out, tapping Morgana’s steering wheel. “Crow likes plans and figuring out the consequences of things. How else do you think he would’ve managed to get so close to taking down Shido himself?”
“He does,” Ryuji sighs, “have a habit of destruction when he doesn’t know what else to do with himself.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because Joker asked me if I had any tips for helping him that didn’t involve forcing him to find a therapist.”
The rest of them give him a quizzical look. “And you gave him an answer?”
Ryuji shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t really like Ak--Crow, but… I get that. There were a lot of times before we took down Kamoshida where all I wanted to do was just--kick the shit out of something. Nowadays I kick the shit out of shadows, but there’s also an old dump that lets people in to have a fun time as long as they bring safety goggles. Pretty sure I saw Joker and Crow there once.” He pauses, looking up at the ceiling. “Although, it was also pretty close to Kichijoki, so for all I know they were wandering back from wherever that bar they won’t tell us about is.”
“I know,” Ann moans, “why won’t they tell us! Every time they let something about it slip I just want to go more.”
“They probably just don’t want us catching them on a date.”
The Thieves almost get whiplash as they all choke on air and whirl to face Yusuke. Morgana and Futaba are the only ones that don’t react. “What?”
“What?” Yusuke blinks. “Are they not? You’d have to be blind to not see how deeply they care about each other.”
Futaba snickers. “Inari’s right guys.”
The Thieves turn their boggling to Futaba. “What? They’re dating?”
“Eh,” Futaba says, wiggling a hand, “more like they have big fat gay crushes on each other and won’t admit it.” She won’t break little sister confidentiality, but Akira has straight up told her about his big fat crush, so she thinks she counts as an authority here. “Mona, take the next two lefts and we should be at the final level between us.”
“But--but Akechi tried to kill him!”
Morgana makes a turn and a sighing noise with his engine. “He cried himself to sleep the entire week between the engine room and christmas eve.”
Futaba winces. She’d seen it the first day but hadn’t been aware it went on for that long. “I think Joker has a very different perspective on Crow than the rest of us do. I'm not--entirely sure how I feel about it. But Joker has talked about this with me and he--I think a lot of us could have ended up like Crow if we awoke to our powers without Mona and Joker to guide us.” So, okay, she might be breaking little sister confidentiality a little, but if this helps Akira in the long run, so be it. “And he also tried to explain this whole thing with that Velvet Room thingy we ended up in after Yaldy tried to erase us, but it flew right over my head apart from the fact that Crow is technically supposed to have the same power as him, but it got messed up. Anyway, my point is, Joker just… he just wants Crow to have one person who actually cares about him enough to do so much as give him a hug on a bad day. And, well… he knows bits of Crow that none of the rest of us do.”
“He killed your mother, Oracle.”
“I know.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Why do you think Joker talked to me about this?” Futaba snaps, turning slightly to glare at Makoto. “He’s practically my brother, But I--” she turns back to her knees. “If I’d still been at my uncle’s, and he found out I had a Persona… I would have done anything to get even a shred of love from him.”
They’re all silent as they make the switch to the next floor. Futaba opens the Monabus’s passenger door and steps back in without looking at any of them. It’s Morgana that eventually breaks the silence. “Crow isn’t a black-and-white issue, as much as we all wish he was. He was manipulated by shitty adults just like the rest of us. Wait, more than that, he and Joker were both manipulated by shitty gods. But he also did things of his own free will from a blind need for revenge. Joker is aware of that. And I think we should trust him to know what he’s doing when it comes to Crow because he did have a point earlier. He’s the only one Crow ever seems comfortable being even slightly vulnerable around.”
“Okay,” Ann interrupts, “I know this is an important conversation and all, but what the hell.”
The Thieves turn to where she’s pointing and collectively gape in awe. “Whoa… was that all Joker and Crow?”
The floor of a side route seems to be bleeding, a holographic rainbow of blood pooling out of Hama crosses and at least one Mudo skull. Myriad slashes and bullet holes eat up the ribs rising from the floor, some of them still smoking who knows how long after their creation. The frost of a Bufu spell is still visible melting against the floor, while an Agi burn is seared into the wall, something suspiciously human-shaped in the middle. At the center of it all is one still-smoking hole, right next to the Reaper’s guns, all of which is surrounded by ash.
“Well… I guess that’s the power of two wild cards, huh.”
“Battle couple,” Futaba nods. Morgana snorts and keeps driving.
It’s only a short while later that they all hop out at the station. Futaba takes the stairs two at a time, a grin on her face. “Joooookerrrr! I sure hope you’re not dead because we just drove past your little ‘swath of destruction’ and holy shit is it--” she stops at the top of the stairs, staring at the sight before her. “Oh my god , I wish cameras worked in the metaverse.”
Akira is asleep leaning against the wall, head tilted downward and mask askew on his face so it’s entirely obvious where he was looking before his eyes closed, and to top it all off there’s one of the softest smiles Futaba has ever seen on his face. One of his hands is tangled in Goro’s hair, whose head is cradled in his lap, nose pressed to one hipbone. He looks so much younger without the protection of his own masks, including the bitter frown. Even though both are pale and bloodied, it’s the sweetest thing she’s seen in a while.
Ryuji pushes her so the rest of the Thieves can make it up the stairs. “Oracle, stop—oh. Okay yeah, I see it now.”
Morgana slips past, catches sight of the two of them, and sighs. “God, Joker, you couldn’t even stay awake? I guess it’s good this safe room was here, I don’t wanna think about what would’ve happened if they both passed out in the middle of Reaper guts.” He flaps an arm and the warm light of the last healing spell they have between them settles over Akira and Goro. A myriad of bruises and blood she can see slowly fade, and she’s sure there’s more she can’t see. Neither of them stir.
Haru sighs, leaning on her axe with a smile. “I suppose we’re going to have to carry them. Uhm. Does anyone know where Crow lives?”
“Joker does, but I don’t think he actually wrote it down, and he forbid me from breaking into his phone again anyway.”
They all stare at the two for a minute. “I guess we could find him a hotel…”
“I could put him in one of my other houses?”
“Fueheheh, oh no, I know exactly what we’re doing.”
“Sojirooooooo! We’re back!”
Sojiro glances up from the curry he’s finishing with a wave, then does a double take. “What happened here?”
Futaba waves a hand dismissively as Morgana snorts on her shoulder. “Akechi did something stupid and Akira followed him like the lovesick fool he is. They’re fine, just exhausted.”
Sojiro raises an eyebrow. “Lovesick fool, huh?”
Futaba squeaks, flapping her arms in front of her. “Please don’t tell him I said that!”
Sojiro sighs and smiles at the five kids standing awkwardly (or asleep in a piggyback hold) in his doorway. “Futaba, I watched Akira throw heart eyes at his favorite detective over my counter for half a year. I’m pretty sure I knew before he did.”
Makoto looks over at Akira asleep on Haru’s back. “Are we like. The only ones who didn’t see this?”
Haru shrugs. “Let’s just put them to bed.”
Makoto groans. “I’m not stopping you. Why is Akechi so heavy? The guy’s a twink, how does he have so much muscle?”
Haru snorts out a laugh. “You sound like Ryuji.”
“She’s right though. His outfit doesn’t leave that much to the imagination. I bet Akira—“
“I’m going to stop you right there for his sake, Futaba.”
“Awww, but Sojiroooooo.”
Akira wakes up in his bed and immediately curses Futaba’s penchant for making fun of him, because his current predicament is absolutely her idea. Goro is asleep half on top of him, both of them still in all their clothes but their shoes, one flimsy blanket thrown haphazardly over the both of them. Morgana is nowhere to be seen, likely with Futaba because, as the not-cat has told him several times, he’s ‘tired of all this damn pining’. It’s also definitely very late in the night, and Akira finds himself thankful it’s not a school night. The absolute last thing he wants to do is trudge through a school day with the memory of Goro’s warmth still lingering on him.
And Goro is warm, one leg nestled between his knees, one arm lingering over his chest, the other folded up under the pillow that only Akira’s head is on, as Goro’s is on his shoulder. He can feel the gentle rise and fall of Goro’s chest against his side, his breath tickling his collarbones. It is incredibly distracting, and he should really be figuring out what happened between the Reaper and waking up here, but Goro’s asleep half on top of him, and--and Goro’s asleep half on top of him. Did he move in his sleep? There’s no way that Futaba and whoever she convinced to carry them here would have just-- dropped Goro on top of him. He--he must have moved in his sleep.
God, Goro cuddled him in his sleep. If he gets any more adorable, Akira is going to get his head bitten off when he inevitably can’t hold back the squeeing.
Slowly, making sure he doesn’t wake up the bristly detective on top of him, Akira wiggles his phone out of his pocket. A few fumbles later, he is half-blinded by the screen. There’s a few messages in the group chat, everyone saying they got home safe, and half-made plans to head back to finish Maruki’s palace since they’re done in Mementos. The only one he cares about is the one from Haru, Dropped JC at Leblanc and made it home, which was, of course, followed up by Ryuji saying you dropped jesus at Leblanc??? and devolved from there.
(When Goro wakes up and sees the he may be a pretty boy, but Akechi ain’t jesus he’s going to flip his lid.)
Hey, pops up at the top of his screen, I know you’re awake bro
Why are you? he shoots back at Futaba, I at least have an excuse
Akira have you ever known me to have a sleep schedule
How is Morgana not yelling at you
He gave up on me long ago. Anyway I think you’ve probably figured it out but you’d text me anyway asking so here: we found you in the safe room absolutely zonked out with kechi on your lap, and if cameras worked in the metaverse I would have SO much blackmail material. Makoto and haru carried you back to Leblanc since you’re the only one kechi will tell where he lives
And you convinced them to trap me in this predicament?
He can almost hear Futaba’s evil laugh. What predicament?
Akira looks at Goro’s sleeping face and debates whether he should get it over with and send her a picture, or wait for her to hack into his phone again. He sighs and, carefully making sure the flash is off, sends her a picture of Goro’s head on his shoulder.
Oh my GOD, Futaba cackles, and Akira swears he can hear it three blocks away. No!!! We put you in the same bed because one of you was going to roll off the couch, I take NO responsibility for this as much as I wish I could because he will KILL ME
If I don’t text you by noon assume he’s killed me again out of sheer embarrassment
Speaking of our local embarrassed detective boy, did you get what happened out of him?
Enough is his only answer. Some things are better left between the two of them.
He doing okay?
Akira blinks at his phone for a moment. That wasn’t something he was expecting Futaba to ask. I think killing the Reaper helped
Of course it did. Go back to sleep
You sleep
You sleep!!!
SLEEP TABA
Fine but only because if I stay up any longer Sojiro’s going to give me the Disappointed face and I don’t wanna deal with it
Akira rolls his eyes with a fond smile and shuts his phone off. He drops it to the floor next to his bed, the windowsill he usually places it on impossible to reach due to the man keeping half his limbs in place, and winces at the thunk.
Goro moves.
Akira freezes as Goro makes a little grumbling noise and curls up further, pressing his nose into Akira’s shoulder. He feels like he’s going to combust. One of Goro’s hands shifts up to rub at his eyes with a sleepy mumble that sounds rather like “Fuck off, Akira.” Akira wisely stays still. Goro continues rubbing at his eye for a moment before he yawns and shifts his face to look up at Akira.
They stare at each other for a minute.
Goro sits bolt upright and hisses “What the fuck, Kurusu?”
“Hey, this wasn’t my idea!” Akira defends himself, hands in the air and not daring to sit up. “Apparently the Thieves found us both passed out in a safe room and since I couldn’t tell them where you live Futaba convinced them to dump both of us here. Oh, and by the way, we are absolutely talking about what you did, because what the fuck, Goro?”
“And you didn’t wake me?”
“Goro, we just destroyed the Reaper. The only reason I was awake at all after you passed out was Orpheus, and she’s pretty mad at me.”
“As she should be,” Goro growls, “you absolute reckless, moronic idiot.”
“Oh like you’re one to talk.”
“I’m not--”
“You sent the Reaper and yourself berserk.”
They stare at each other for a minute.
Goro huffs and crosses his arms. “And?”
“And?” Akira gapes at him, “What do you mean, and?”
“Why does it matter to you that I sent the Reaper berserk?”
“Wh-- Goro. You know full well that sending the Reaper berserk is not the point here.”
“Then what is, Kurusu?”
Akira finally sits up and grabs his shoulders, giving in to the urge to shake him a bit. “You sent yourself berserk.”
“I’ve done it before, Kurusu.”
“And you almost died!”
Goro flinches. It’s subtle, just a tightening around his eyes, but Akira knows him well enough to spot it in the moonlight. He opens his mouth to… something, he doesn’t know, but Goro beats him to it with a snarl. “The engine room wasn’t the only time I’ve sent myself berserk, and you’re even more of an idiot than I thought if you think that was the first time.”
“Wh--what?”
Goro groans. “Oh for the love of god, Kurusu, stop giving me sad puppy dog eyes. I am not one of your sycophantic followers who need their hand held through every dangerous situation.”
“Stop.”
“I’ve been in the metaverse far longer than all of you combined. Do you really think I would have tried that against you if I didn’t think it would work?”
Akira stares at him. Goro huffs again and hoists himself off the bed, grumbling about milk crates. Akira lets him, unable and unsure if he even should voice the only thought running through his head. It takes a minute of shuffling and complaining about the light switch being so far away before the overhead light is blinding them both. In the dazzle, Akira manages his first good look at an exhausted Goro, and he can’t help but imagine what he might have looked like the first time he sent himself berserk. Was it on Shido’s orders? Was it by accident?
“Was it before or after you first used it on someone else?”
Goro stares at him. Akira shifts guiltily. “Sorry. It just slipped out. You don’t… you don’t have to answer that.”
He looks away, and Akira sees something so, so tired in his eyes. “Loki won’t kill me.”
Those four words paint a clearer picture than he was expecting. He holds back on the urge to get up and run to Goro, to wrap him in a hug and kiss his cheek and bundle him into all the blankets on the bed and make sure the person he loves is safe. But he won’t, because Goro will hiss like a startled cat and hide himself away until he calls for them to finish the palace, and he’s already close enough to that line that he won’t push it. Some of it must still show on his face, though, because Goro hides behind his detective prince smile as he slips his feet into his discarded shoes. “Well, since I am awake now, I’ll be heading back to my apartment--”
“Goro, wait.”
“What, Kurusu?” he sighs.
“It’s like four am, the trains aren’t running.”
“I’ll get a cab.”
“Oh my god, just sleep on the couch if you don’t want to sleep on the bed, honey.”
The pet name just slips out, much to Akira’s horror. The emotions that make it onto Goro’s face are amusing at the least. Shock, a slight bit of panic, a tiny bit of embarrassment, all overlaid with only-semi-fake fury. “Akira.”
“Look,” Akira huffs, glaring at him. “You know why sending yourself berserk absolutely terrifies me. Loki won’t kill you but shadows can and I don’t--I don’t want to lose you again. So just--just stay the night. Please? Just so I can know you’re okay.”
Something painful flits over Goro’s face. “You already know I’m okay.”
“Goro.”
“I don’t understand,” Goro finally says, almost pleading with him, desperate, and Akira knows it’s not about the Reaper. He finally stands up, walking the few steps over so he can gently hold Goro’s gloved hands.
“Love isn’t something that needs a reason, honey.”
“I tried to kill you.”
“And I know you won’t do it again.”
Goro stares at him. His hands are trembling; Akira squeezes them lightly, reassuring that he won’t let go. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Goro,” Akira sighs, “look. If this is making you uncomfortable, if you don’t actually want this, just tell me and I’ll back off, okay? All I want is you to be happy. But you have to be honest with me.”
“This isn’t a good idea.”
“But do you want it?”
“Whether or not I want it has no bearing on this!”
“It has every bearing.”
“Kur--”
“Goro. Do you or do you not want this.”
Goro stares him right in the eyes, pinning him in place with crow eyes. “That doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because I--because we have a mission, Kurusu.”
“Then after the mission?”
“I--I don’t--I can’t--I can’t commit to anything.”
“I’m not asking for a commitment right now, Goro. All I’m asking is, in an ideal world, without Maruki, would you?”
Goro doesn’t speak, staring over Akira’s shoulder with unfocused eyes. Akira lets him, gently thumbing his knuckles, wishing he could feel the skin underneath the gloves but knowing full well that these gloves are Goro’s last defense mechanism, the one he won’t take off in such a vulnerable moment.
“I would.”
Akira smiles, bringing one hand up to gently hold Goro’s cheek. The other unconsciously leans into it, all the exhaustion of the past few weeks evident in one singular gesture. “Then stay with me. Just for the night. We can talk about the rest after we’re done with Maruki.”
“...Fine.”
Akira grins and tugs him back to the bed. Goro begrudgingly toes his shoes back off and throws one of his extra layers towards the chair as Akira flings his own jacket in the vague direction of the couch. Pajamas would be nice, but he won’t push his luck. He does poke insistently at Goro’s shirt, who sighs and unbuttons the top button. With that he forcibly flops them both down, earning a glare which he returns with a cheeky grin. But Goro is the one that digs the blankets out from under them and burrows them both beneath them, pulling Akira close enough he can see the eyebags hidden under the remnants of his concealer, along with the freckles peeking out. “Stop staring at me,” he grumbles.
“Sorry,” Akira smiles, “I’m just awestruck by you, honey.”
Goro studies him for a moment. “Akira,” he murmurs, voice low and serious.
“Yes?”
“I need you to promise me one thing.”
“What is it?”
“If I ask you to let me go, you do.”
Akira stares at him, the desperation in his eyes and tense figure. “Goro. I promise, no matter the context, if you ask me to let you go, I will.”
Goro closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Thank you.”
He wants to ask why, he wants to take the pain in Goro’s heart and soothe it with love and kindness so that he never has to. Goro silences his open mouth with one still-gloved hand and an annoyed, sleepy-eyed look. “Go the fuck to sleep, Akira.”
He laughs and takes that hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to its knuckles. “Alright. But can you promise me one thing in return?”
“What?”
“Stop sending yourself berserk, unless there really truly is no other option but to keep going. You have backup now.”
“...fine.”
“Thank you.”
Akira doesn’t ‘go the fuck to sleep.’ Instead, he watches as Goro succumbs to slumber once again, head tucked under Akira’s chin and arm inching itself over his chest. He feels honored to be the one Goro lets see him like this, to be the one that he reaches out for unconsciously and consciously. And he hopes that Goro will keep letting him, as long as they live. “I love you,” he murmurs into Goro’s hair, “and I hope you realize that I’ll keep loving you, no matter what you think of yourself.” Eventually, the heavy warmth on top of him pulls him back into dreamland. His last conscious action is to press a kiss into Goro’s hair.
In the morning, Goro allows himself one small secret smile and a dozen bittersweet fantasies he knows will never see the light of their true reality. Then he pulls himself from bed, stepping one more day towards his doom.