Archive of Our Own ^beta

November, 2019

Akira"s in his second year of college by the time Futaba finds a nearby university has accepted a young man named Goro Akechi into their freshman class, despite his criminal record and accompanying prison sentence that had begun in April, 2017. She sends him the details within an hour.

Akira skims the first couple of documents, then calls her, and she actually picks up despite how much she hates talking on the phone, which is how he knows that she"s already fact-checked and verified everything. The university application on the computer screen still doesn"t look real. It looks… mundane, like an office prop in the background set of a movie. It could not possibly be proof of someone coming back to life.

“Yeah, I know,” says Futaba, instead of a hello. “Kinda thought that was the last we’d see of him, but… guess not, huh?”

"It could be someone else with his name," Akira says, already knowing what she"ll say.

"Nah, I did the digging. There"s a bunch of weird stuff scrambled in the government databases because he"s under a witness protection program now, and also there was all that stuff with Yaldabaoth and everyone forgetting him..." She sighs. "But it"s the right face. I"ve got a picture if you want it to check that it"s him."

For a whole second, he doesn"t see what the point of seeing a picture would be, because in Akira"s head, Goro Akechi is still eighteen, and Akira remembers his eighteen-year-old face easily, in no small part due to Goro’s inactive Instagram. But then he remembers that a picture would prove quite a lot, because if Goro really is alive, he"d be twenty-one, and he"d be... older. Because he"s alive. And getting older is what you do when you"re alive. He might look entirely different.

"...Akira?" says Futaba eventually.

"I want his phone number," says Akira instead.

Finally, Morgana, napping on Akira"s dorm room desk, looks up, ears flicking to try and catch Futaba"s half of the conversation. "You wanna call him? Are you sure that"s... really a good idea...? Considering who he is?" says Futaba.

Maybe not, but getting Goro"s phone number the first time around in high school was also a bad idea. "I want to meet him."

“What? Seriously? Why?”

“Just to catch up,” says Akira blandly.

"Uh, I mean... he hasn"t reached out or anything. He’s been out for a month or so, and he hasn’t made any moves to find any of the Thieves or reconnect, so...”

Akira doesn’t reply.

“And besides, he could be plotting something! Besides… enrolling in university, I guess. Which is pretty non-villainous, to be honest. Okay, admittedly his jail records are squeaky clean, no behavioral issues at all while he was there, but also that doesn’t tell us anything real, considering how good he is at acting, don’t you think? We don"t really have any idea what he"s like now."

Akira doesn"t reply.

“You seriously want his number?” says Futaba.

“Yes,” says Akira, in the same bland tone of voice.

"…Well, I guess if you really want it," says Futaba. She sounds doubtful. "Uh, I can pester Ryuji to see if he"s free, and maybe he can go with you..."

"I"ll be fine.”

"Akira, the last time we saw him—well, he was actually pretty alright the last time we saw him, but—that could have been because he had to work with us to escape Maruki. We don"t really know if it"s safe, you know...?"

"I"m sure it won"t be any trouble," says Akira a little more firmly.

“Akira, are you serious, right now?”

“I’ll call you if I really need help.”

Futaba makes a worried noise. “Fine! Okay, fine. I’ll text you the number.”

"Thanks, Futaba."

"Sure," says Futaba, sounding incredibly unsure. Unsure of what she"s just done, what it means. She"s just doing her job, even now, which is to keep everyone informed about any updates that might be relevant to them and their lives, even if it"s their one-time semi-teammate from three years ago. Even now, she trusts Akira to take the information she gives him and make the right calls on all of their behalves. So Akira goes alone.

*

"You shouldn"t have come alone," says Goro immediately when he sees Akira sitting alone on the park bench. Never the shy one about disagreeing with Akira, after all. His voice is deeper. Goro hadn’t picked up when Akira called, only responded to texts, so that would make this… the first time Akira has heard his voice in three years.

He"s wearing a peacoat in a remarkably similar style to the one he wore three years ago, but his scarf is a deep wine red, now, and his peacoat a darker brown. A more mature style for a more mature face. His hair"s gotten even longer, and the length only highlights the leanness of his face. He"s lost some of the rounded edges of youth in favor of a tightness that seems to print his flawless skin directly onto his cheekbones, like the sharper edges of his personality, no longer able to hide under teenaged baby fat, have finally come out in the very structure of his adult face. In the wrong light, the right word could almost be "severe”; but today is a soft grey November day, and mostly Goro just looks uncertain.

Akira is staring. Goro looks away, crosses his arms defensively. Just like he used to three years ago. And something clicks in Akira’s head: Out of all the ways that Akira imagined that he’d finally see Goro Akechi again, it hadn’t felt real until he’d seen that little nervous tick.

It’s really him.

"Have you called me over to an empty park in the middle of November just to stare at me?" says Goro at last. "When you have no idea about my intentions, what my plans are, what I"ve been up to..."

“Besides applying to college?” Akira says.

“Is that how Sakura found me?” His voice is clipped, like he’s trying to say as few words to Akira as possible. “Whatever your opinions are on my life plans, it’s still not a good reason to come unarmed and unguarded to meet someone like me.”

Akira frowns. This was… not how he expected this to go. Not that he expected anything, per se, but he’d certainly imagined how he and Goro might meet again, and this… whatever this reservation in Goro’s voice is… this was not what he’d pictured.

“In fact,” Goro goes on, “I didn"t expect you"d want to see me at all, considering our history. Or do you have some unsavory reason you called me out here alone today?”

“Is that what you think of me?” Akira replies.

“I lied to you, betrayed you, attempted to kill you, strong-armed you into a second deal, and then lied to you again,” Goro says coolly. “What, exactly, should I assume you wanted to see me for?”

Is that why you let me think you were dead for three years in the first—

No, he doesn’t say that. Akira doesn’t say anything. In fact, he keeps his jaw very, very tightly shut, as if the words might pop right out of him if he’s not careful.

Goro narrows his eyes. “Well, Kurusu? You’re the one who texted me, and now you have nothing to say to me?”

Akira takes a deep breath. He measures the volume of his voice carefully, keeping the words soft and even, no louder than Akira would announce the time of day. “Are you going to sit down?" he says instead, because Goro"s still standing there in the middle of the park path like he"s going to run off at any second and it"s driving Akira up the fucking wall for some reason. Like Goro"s just going to show up and disappear yet again, and Akira will have to live with another three years without him.

Goro pulls himself up a little taller—Akira thinks he might still be taller than Akira—and visibly tries to work through what sort of trap might entail sitting on a park bench, and Akira doesn’t explain. But Goro does sit down, eventually, without quite looking at Akira, like they’re two strangers at a park, staring out across the park, neither looking at the other, who’ve happened to sit down at the same bench.

“Are you going to ask me how I survived?”

Akira doesn’t care. The explanation isn’t hard to deduce: Goro managed to get out of the engine room on his own without Maruki’s interference, so when they left Maruki’s reality, he survived regardless. (Just like Goro to do everything without anyone else’s help.) But Akira doesn’t actually give a damn about the specifics. He’d just wanted to know Goro was alive.

He thinks I didn’t want to see him, a little sour voice in Akira’s head says.

“You’ve gotten quieter,” says Goro after a long moment, as if Akira had not always been a quiet person. “Or maybe you just don’t have anything to say to me?”

Trying to goad a reaction out of him? Akira doesn’t reply.

“I expected that you would have done the normal thing and moved on.”

Akira doesn’t reply to that either.

It’s too early in the year for snow. It’s just grey and cold, without sun, utterly windless. It’s also too early in the afternoon for anyone else to be in the park with them. For a long moment, they sit in complete silence, watching the park not move around them.

"I was in jail," Goro offers at last.

As if this is could possibly be what Akira might want to hear. "What for,” says Akira anyway.

In the corner of Akira’s eye, Goro very nearly looks at him, but seems to think better of it. He turns away again, explaining to the cold November air: "For whatever they would jail me for in a court that has no concept of the Metaverse. And also very little working memory of who I was, thanks to our friend Yaldabaoth." Goro taps his finger along his arm. "Counts of aiding and abetting corruption and embezzlement, in the end. I only got two years because I was tried as a minor."

"’Only’?" Akira repeats.

"I pleaded for a higher sentence. Two years wasn"t right, considering... my actions. If I could have proved that I was behind the psychotic breakdowns, I would have easily received a life sentence, or possibly the death penalty.” Goro sounds irritated when he says, “But the judge was convinced that I was going through some sort of stress-induced breakdown rather than actually guilty of anything. The evidence that I was in any way involved with Shido at all boiled down to a handful of text messages, some cell phone tower pings, and whatever money he’d deposited into my bank account. Two years was the best I could manage."

Oh good fucking lord, Akira thinks. “What would they have given you if you hadn’t pleaded for higher?”

“Maybe a year. Possibly just probation, if I’d let Sae have her way—“

Akira turns to face him so sharply that Goro’s entire body stiffens. “Sae was your lawyer?”

“I refused to let her be. We were only in contact because she was prosecuting Shido and I was her witness to put him away as one of his collaborators. Don’t you remember?”

“She knew you were alive?”

Goro’s expression is utterly unreadable. “Don’t blame her. I told her not to bother you.”

Two years of jail—he’d gotten out recently, and he’d surely had time between the start of his sentence and February third. There was Shido’s trial time, then Goro’s trial time, all throughout which Goro not only intentionally chose to pretend he’d dropped off the face of the earth, but went out of his way to tell Sae to stay silent—

And all that time in jail—phone calls were allowed; Akira knew because he’d looked into it. If Goro hadn’t known his phone number, there was no way he couldn’t have gotten in touch with Sae, who could have put him in touch with Akira. No, there was no way that Goro couldn’t have contacted him—

—which means that Goro chose, entirely intentionally, not to tell him that he was alive.

Every day.

For three years.

“You wanted to serve more time,” Akira repeats dully. Even more time of Akira in the dark.

“I already said that.”

“What for,” says Akira, instead of So that’s why you fucked off for three years.

Goro hesitates. Instead of saying You already asked that, Goro says, “I already answered that.”

No, he didn’t. Does going to jail bring the people he’s killed back? Does serving more time ease anyone’s hearts? Nobody even knows that Goro Akechi was behind the breakdowns in the first place, besides the Phantom Thieves. Nobody really knows who Goro Akechi is in the first place. Is this about Haru and Futaba? But neither of them even knew he was alive, so what was the point of this? Were any useful laws established in the court proceedings that might prevent the Metaverse being used for assassinations?

The people he killed are already dead. Was sitting in jail for two years going to bring them back to life?

(Sounds like jacking off his own guilty conscience was more important.)

“You went to jail because it was the right thing to do,” says Akira.

“Yes,” says Goro, with a weird note of relief in his voice, like he’s glad that Akira finally understands what he’s talking about, that kind of makes Akira want to kill him right here and bury his body in the park. “Of course. You really think that someone like me deserves to walk free? You and I both know that I didn"t deserve to live past that engine room, let alone survive Maruki.”

I don’t care what you deserved, a little voice in Akira’s head says.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Goro goes on.

The principle of the thing, a little voice in Akira’s head mocks. The principle of appeasing Goro’s guilty conscience. To fulfill Goro’s lofty, pedantic ideas of right and wrong and how the law should or shouldn’t work. Still feeding Goro’s sense of retributive justice, for no one"s satisfaction but his own, except now his stupid fucking grudge-match is turned on himself, is it?

It really is Goro Akechi in the flesh. Goro’s sense of morality has never been anything but self-serving. And it still is.

For someone so hellbent on righting his wrongs, Goro hasn’t changed as a person at fucking all.

“I would have thought that you of all people would have been happy to see justice served,” Goro’s voice says after a moment. “The perpetrators getting what they deserve.”

“Is that what you thought I was doing when we stole people’s hearts?” Akira replies.

“I’m well aware that you chose your targets based on preventing further harm caused to victims—”

(Akira had only mentioned it once, three years ago at the jazz club. And Goro still remembers that?)

“—but you can’t possibly say that someone like me should just walk without any sort of accountability for my actions. It’s not right.” Another moment of silence, in which Goro waits for Akira to respond, and Akira inevitably doesn’t. “I would have thought that you’d be glad to see that the person who betrayed you served jail time.”

“Trying to do the right thing,” says Akira without intonation.

“…Yes,” says Goro, in the tight tone of voice that highly implies how convinced he is that this is a trick question that he can’t figure out.

“And what now,” says Akira. “Was a two year sentence enough for you?”

“Whatever you might think of me, I fully intend on doing the right thing from here on,” Goro says.

Finally, Akira looks at him. Goro must see the hope in his face, because he says, with an extraordinary amount of confidence, “I can hardly rest until I’ve done more. I’ve applied for university, hoping to go into law, but… of course, nobody takes someone with a criminal record very kindly in Japan, even if they’ve received a degree. If I’m going to do the right thing, I might have to leave Japan altogether.”

“Oh,” says Akira.

Akira stands up.

“Akira?” Goro says, startled.

“Is that the right thing to do?” Akira asks.

“A lifetime of work could not make up for what I’ve done,” says Goro, incredulous. “I have to do something, don’t I?”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Of course.”

“…Alright,” says Akira. “I’m glad for you, then.”

Curled up at the bottom of his pants pocket is Goro’s old glove, where it’s been since Goro had given it to him. Without thinking too hard on it, Akira takes it out and drops it in Goro’s lap. “Here,” Akira says. “I think I’ll have to skip on our rematch.”

“What?” says Goro.

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t have anything else to say to you,” says Akira.

“You kept this? You actually kept my—are you leaving?”

Akira doesn’t stop walking even when he hears Goro scramble off the bench, jogging to catch up. The gravel path crunches bitterly under Akira’s fast pace. “That’s it, then?” says Goro, sounding borderline angry, now, which is rich, honestly. “You kept this all these years, even after everything I did, called me here just to give it back, and now you’re just going to leave?”

Akira doesn’t know why Goro’s surprised that he kept it, when Goro’s the one rattling off facts Akira mentioned once in passing three years ago. Was he supposed to throw it away after the interrogation room? Or after the engine room? Or after that conversation in Leblanc in February? What part of I’ll keep your glove was unclear—

A hand around Akira’s elbow yanks him to a stop, spins him around. Goro’s cheeks and nose are slightly pink, although Akira’s not sure if it’s from the cold weather or anger or something else. He looks pissed. Some equally ugly emotion tastes sour in Akira’s mouth. “What are you playing at?” Goro hisses.

“Nothing,” says Akira. “It’s what it looks like. I wanted to know that you were alive, and I wanted to return your glove. As promised.”

“That’s it? Really?”

Yes, really. Akira had just wanted to know if Goro was alive, and return his glove. Not exactly a long list, or a difficult one, if Goro had just bothered to fucking call him. Let him know that he hadn’t immediately reverted to a corpse the second they left Maruki’s reality. Hadn’t gone out of his way to tell Sae to keep him in the dark.

“That’s it,” says Akira.

Goro’s eyes are—wide. Disbelief, maybe. The sort of confusion when someone’s last tether snaps, right before they begin to fall. “This doesn’t… mean anything?”

“No,” Akira replies.

“Nothing else?”

“I really don’t have anything else to say to you,” Akira repeats.

Slowly, the grip on Akira’s arm eases. Goro isn’t wearing gloves, Akira realizes, even when it’s more than cold enough to justify them. His hands are even paler than Akira remembers them, but now the nails are trimmed neat and short rather than manicured to points.

Akira pulls his arm out of Goro’s grip, and Goro’s hand slides away to drop to his side. His other hand barely holds onto the glove, like an afterthought. “Thanks for coming to see me,” says Akira, mostly on autopilot, because you’re supposed to say goodbye when you leave, and not actually because Akira is thankful about anything about this. He thinks he should say something like, Hope things go well for you or Have a nice day, if he’s being especially banal, but actually Akira thinks he owes it to Goro to, if not say the truth, then at least not tell any lies, and instead just turns away.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Goro says.

Akira stops.

“What kind of moron do you take me for?” Goro says quietly. “The Akira Kurusu I knew wouldn’t keep this glove for three years, call me down here, and then just leave. He wouldn’t just skip on our rematch.”

Akira takes a very long, very deep breath. He doesn’t turn around. Closes his eyes. He can’t do this, actually. He was so close to just—leaving, to just putting this all behind him, never thinking about Goro Akechi again—he waited for three years. He can’t do this again.

“You really think I’d believe that you kept my glove, after I lied to you, betrayed you, and disappeared twice, and this doesn’t mean anything?”

It means I missed you, Akira thinks. I miss you.

No, that’s not right.

It means I could fucking strangle you right here.

No, that’s not right.

I waited for you for three years.

I thought you’d come back.

I thought you were dead.

I never gave up on you.

I can’t let you go.

I couldn’t—

“Well?” says Goro’s voice. It sounds desperate. “Akira?”

Akira wheels around. Goro stiffens, like he didn’t really expect Akira to stay. His hand is clenched so tightly around the glove that Akira can see it shaking.

“You really want to know?” Akira says.

“I do,” says Goro.

And Akira says:

NOVEMBER, 2017

Deep into his third year of high school, back in his crusty country hometown, Akira spent most of his days staring out the rickety window of his old school building with the unshakable belief that Goro would show up, quote-unquote, “tomorrow.” Not today, and not actually the calendar day that comes after today, but some permanent, undefinable "tomorrow."

Why not think so, right? Goro hadn’t stayed dead the first time. Goro had made fun of Akira for thinking that he could die so easily. So Akira wasn’t going to underestimate him a second time; if there was anyone who could cheat death twice in a row, Akira expects it’d be Goro Akechi.

So when "tomorrow" came, Goro would explain some reason or other that he couldn"t show up—something to do with the remainders of Shido’s conspiracy detaining him somewhere, or maybe Sae had kept him away from the public view in a witness protection program. Akira’s sure it would be a good reason. He’s so very sure that he doesn’t like to think about what might be keeping Goro for so long.

What was most important was that, when Goro showed up, Akira would always have the glove immediately handy, and whenever Goro was done explaining his entirely legitimate and perfectly emotionally fulfilling reason that made Akira instantly forgive him, Akira would place the glove into Goro"s hand and explain that he"d kept their promise, all this time, and he wouldn"t be shy about saying it because if Goro was here then Goro must have also not forgotten the promise either.

(For some reason, this scenario usually played out by the Samegawa, or on the school roof, although Akira is not very sure how Goro would get onto the school roof by himself, or even how Goro would know that Akira had moved back to his hometown. Had Akira told him where exactly he used to live before Tokyo? Well, maybe it doesn’t matter—Goro Akechi can make anything possible, and also this is Akira’s personal daydream.)

Then Goro would say something smart and witty about their rematch, which Akira would ignore because he knows it pisses Goro off a little bit in a good way when Akira isn"t impressed with whatever witticism Goro"s flaunting—

—no, wait, Akira has a better idea. They’d be on the riverbank, sitting a little too close to be friends, although Goro wouldn’t have noticed in the middle of explaining where he’d been. Akira would pull out the glove, confess he’d kept it all this time. For our rematch? Goro would say, and would not be surprised at all that Akira kept it, because surely Akira had made it clear that Akira’s feelings went deeper than the hurt of Goro’s betrayal. Surely Goro knew that it was more complicated than that. And of course Goro would know that this glove meant more than a rematch.

Goro would say, Then you can have the first move, Joker. What sort of rematch did you have in mind?

And Akira would press a kiss to Goro"s skin, like a proper gentleman thief—his knuckles, his bare palm, somewhere soft, so he wouldn"t scare him away. (Fingers crossed that Goro is at least willing to put up with Akira’s bad taste in daydream scenarios.) What about a game of hearts, detective? he"d say, or something like that—(hopefully a little more suave than that—he really hopes Goro doesn’t think he’s talking about “Hearts” the card game)—and then he"d look up into Goro"s eyes, still holding Goro’s hand to his lips, and—

—and then if Akira was lucky, his teacher would bark, “Kurusu!” and Akira would jolt out of his daydreaming, because Akira doesn"t know what’s supposed to happen after that.

He doesn"t know what Goro would say. Goro was already surprising him; Akira really never knew what to expect with him; Akira isn’t smart enough to come up with whatever Goro would do next. So Akira doesn"t think that far.

*

Direct message: Ann Takamaki

November 20, 2017, 7:01 AM

ANN: Miss you every day!!!!

ANN: [IMG_0218]

AKIRA: Miss you guys too

ANN: We’re coming to visit you in inaba soon!!!!

AKIRA: Nah, there’s nothing here

AKIRA: I’ll go visit you guys over break

ANN: Are you sure??

ANN: Geez you make it sound so awful

ANN: You’re not bored over there are you?

AKIRA: Not really

AKIRA: It’s not as bad as I make it sound

AKIRA: I have a lot of time to think

AKIRA: So it’s actually fine

*

He thinks about finally holding Goro"s gaze, lips pressed against Goro"s bare hand. He wonders if Goro"s hand would be cool and dry, or warm and soft. If he thinks only about just making sure that Goro knows how he really feels, it doesn"t matter what Goro does after that. And if he thinks only about the words he’ll say when he finally returns Goro’s glove, it doesn’t matter how long it takes for Goro to come back.

Akira just has to make it to tomorrow.

JANUARY, 2018

He’s sure that Goro’s out there. He’s just taking his time coming back. Not that Goro has to come back to Akira specifically, but it would be very nice if Goro would just send him a sign, or something, and let him know that he’s out there. But he’s sure it’ll happen sooner or later.

FEBRUARY, 2018

Any day, now.

MARCH, 2018

Group chat: Definitely not the ex-Phantom Thieves

March 27, 2018, 2:49 PM

RYUJI: COLLEGGGGE

ANN: CONGRATS TO US

RYUJI: YEAH YEAH YEAH

MAKOTO: Congratulations on making it to college, everyone.

MAKOTO: But don’t let the post-college acceptance slump get you.

RYUJI: what??

RYUJI: but isnt that the whole point of getting into college...

ANN: We worked really hard during senior year!!! We can have a break sometimes!

YUSUKE: "Post-college acceptance slump"?

YUSUKE: What is that?

ANN: Omg?

RYUJI: i dunno if it"s gonna apply to you dude

RYUJI: who even are you if you"re not living and breathing paint

MAKOTO: It"s about what it sounds like. Sometimes students start to slack off now that they know they’ve gotten into university.

MAKOTO: Sometimes it’s due to college drinking or hook-up culture, but I think a lot of it just has to do with people knowing they’ve already been accepted into a place that looks good on their resume, so they think they don’t have to do any more work.

RYUJI: that only works if you actually got into a place that isn’t shitty

ANN: Your uni isn’t shitty :(

RYUJI: eh

YUSUKE: Why on earth would anyone do less work for a whole year?

ANN: Well I need to really focus on the upcoming shows!!! I think I deserve a little bit of slump haha

ANN: And ryuji definitely spent a whole year working his ass off for track too to get into his very non-shitty university so i think he deserves a break too

RYUJI: eh

MAKOTO: It’s different. You"re working on your career.

MAKOTO: Speaking of, Akira, did that internship ever work out?

AKIRA: Yeah

AKIRA: It"s not a for a while though because it"s over summer break

ANN: !!!!!!!!!!!!

ANN: YAY

ANN: AKIRA!!!!!

RYUJI: DUDE

ANN: CONGRATS!!!!!!

AKIRA: Haha. Thanks

FUTABA: boooooooooooo

FUTABA: sojiro"s gonna be sad if u dont come to visit him for the summer

AKIRA: I will, don"t worry

FUTABA: u better lol

YUSUKE: I must have missed the memo. What type of internship is this, Akira?

AKIRA: Grief and trauma counseling

YUSUKE: Oh, I see. That makes sense considering your potential psychology major.

ANN: Wait I thought it was just a regular counseling internship

ANN: You"re gonna specialize in grief and trauma??

AKIRA: I really don’t know what I’m going to specialize in

AKIRA: I’m not even in college yet

AKIRA: And honestly they say “internship” but mostly I’m just running the front desk and scheduling appointments

RYUJI: oh dude youre gonna turn into maruki-sensei

ANN: LOL

AKIRA: Let"s hope not

FUTABA: i didnt know u were into grief and trauma counseling kinda stuff

AKIRA: I guess I don"t seem like the type huh

FUTABA: wait no i mean i"m all for it

FUTABA: this isnt me being a negative nancy!

FUTABA: kinda wish i"d had a counselor like that when i lost my mom

FUTABA: i was just surprised bc i hadnt known u were interested in it

ANN: Me neither!!

ANN: Was there anything that made you interested in that sort of thing?

AKIRA: Not in particular

AKIRA: It"s just an internship

AKIRA: I know that I applied to uni for the school of psychology but I’m not sure I’ll stick with it

AKIRA: Maybe I’ll just keep it as a minor

FUTABA: are u even allowed to switch to the business school this late in the game

FUTABA: are u even allowed to major in business with a minor in psych

FUTABA: wont they excommunicate u out of the Finance Cult lololol

RYUJI: what??? finance isnt a cult

AKIRA: No it is

RYUJI: oh

MAKOTO: The time to declare is coming up soon.

MAKOTO: If you need help deciding, you can always talk to one of us.

MAKOTO: If you"re still thinking about going into business, Haru’s already halfway through her business program, so she could tell you what it’s like.

MAKOTO: Plus, it seems like both of you are going into business specifically to be able to get into the coffee shop industry, anyway.

AKIRA: Thanks

FUTABA: i bet if i asked haru she"d agree with me that business majors are a cult

RYUJI: well congrats again dude

RYUJI: sounds like fun

FUTABA: lmaoooooo it"s a grief and trauma internship ryuji

RYUJI: im trying my best ok

MAKOTO: I"m sure it"ll be enlightening if nothing else.

MAKOTO: Congrats again, Akira.

APRIL, 2018

When Akira arrives at university in the first few days, he learns that college is mostly a lot of emails. A lot of homework exactly like the homework Akira did in high school, except harder. A lot of the same students and the same rumors, except older and slightly more passive-aggressive, and now nobody has any rumors about him in particular.

Sometimes he has to hide Morgana from security because he"s not allowed to have pets in the dorm rooms. But that"s not really hard, because everyone on his floor knows him as the Cat Guy, and knows Morgana is perfectly well-behaved, and he makes sure to bribe them sometimes with meal swipes and a free shoulder to cry on when their relationships implode.

He has a single, so he organizes it the way he likes. He keeps his dorm room minifridge stocked with plain seltzer water and some orange juice he knows Goro used to like. He makes sure to always have Goro"s favorite coffee beans (Kona brand, dark roast) in the darkest part of his closet, to keep the beans fresh. He always has a spare futon for "guests," and for anyone else who might decide to drop by "tomorrow." He buys new clothes as he grows yet another few inches but keeps the old ones, wondering if Goro could still fit them. He never deletes Goro"s number from his phone.

*

Direct message: Futaba Sakura

April 19, 2018, 10:10 PM

FUTABA: I MISS MONAAAAAA

AKIRA: And me I hope

FUTABA: i mostly texted you even when we lived next door to each other

FUTABA: i’ll miss you when you stop having opposable thumbs

FUTABA: send mona mona my love

AKIRA: Any requests

FUTABA: please administer exactly four kisses to his kitty cat head in my stead

AKIRA: Done

FUTABA: how was it

AKIRA: He hated it

FUTABA: tysm

FUTABA: i’ll pester sojiro to send you some beans

AKIRA: Kona, please

*

Surrounded by an entire freshman class full of people ready to date and hook-up, combined with Akira’s habit of picking up friends no matter where he goes, it takes about three days for Akira to become the break-up friend—the person that people call after they"ve been dumped, or have just dumped someone, and they"re reeling in the disaster. He thinks it has something to do with how Morgana will let people squeeze him like a furry stressball when they’re in tears.

Well, it’s not like being someone’s support is anything new to Akira; it’s just funny how specific it becomes, how people he talked to a handful of times in class will wind up in his common room with Morgana on their lap. He starts keeping chocolate in his minifridge. He listens to the same testimonials of infatuation, love, and loss over and over: I thought it meant something. He didn’t understand me at all. Why doesn’t she understand why I’m upset? I feel awkward, now that he’s gone. Like I"ve got a chunk of me missing.

Well, Akira knows better than anyone that a person without an audience doesn"t exist. You have to have someone around to know who you are, to know what face to wear, how to shape yourself. Plenty of people are incomplete without others. He heard once that break-ups are hard because you miss the person you were when you were with them, so really everyone is an incomplete half of a whole at all times; he says that sometimes to friends when they need to hear it, without really believing it himself. It"s just a thing to say when he knows someone wants to hear it, another face to wear when someone wants to see someone who can handle their broken heart with dispassionate, disinterested hands. It"s an easy face for Akira to wear. He doesn"t mind. He no longer distinguishes between white lies and honesty, except by measures of kindness.

*

Direct Message: Ryuji Sakamoto

April 20, 2018, 7:35 PM

AKIRA: [IMG_0101]

RYUJI: dude your dorm room looks

RYUJI: actually freakishly clean what the hell

RYUJI: damn you really like to clean huh

AKIRA: It’s fun

RYUJI: wow… i wish i thought cleaning was fun

RYUJI: can you come over and clean my dorm

AKIRA: Haha

AKIRA: It sounds like it’s been fun for you at least

RYUJI: yes dude absolutely

RYUJI: but how’s things on your end

RYUJI: how’s college been like for you?

AKIRA: It’s good

AKIRA: It’s nice being out of my parents’ house

*

Sometimes he just wishes he"d held Goro down in that night in February and made him understand that even if it was just one person in the whole goddamn world, Akira wanted Goro to be alive, would do anything for Goro to be alive, and maybe if only Goro had understood that—if only Goro had listened to him—if Akira had better words to say…

The thing about Akira is that he’s no good with words. If he can help it, he’d rather let his actions speak for him. Better yet, if he can help it, he’d rather say nothing much at all, and let other people interpret him to be however they best liked him. Like acting without acting; doing nothing, and letting others imagine a version of him that they could pretend to know.

Maybe Akira could have just—skipped the words; maybe if he’d had the courage to kiss him before Goro left that night in February, Goro would have understood. Then maybe Goro would have made a different choice. Maybe Goro just hadn"t known. If only Akira had been honest enough for the both of them, maybe—

No. Goro wouldn’t have changed his mind about leaving Maruki’s reality in a million years. Akira’s kidding himself.

Sometimes he thinks that when “tomorrow” comes, Goro would come back and Akira would get to hug him for as long as he wanted and Goro wouldn’t push him away or get prickly and Akira wouldn’t get embarrassed either. Akira would tell him I missed you. Goro would actually believe him. Goro, contrary to what might be popular opinion, believed Akira about a lot of things; whenever Akira would compliment Goro during a game of darts, or during a Metaverse run, or even just over drinks at the jazz club, Goro would get this look that Akira will never forget, like he was struggling with learning a terrible fact that he desperately wishes wasn"t true, but can no longer deny without losing his respect for Akira. In fact, in retrospect, the extremely odd thing was that Goro had been an incredibly good listener for someone who also seemed to greatly enjoy the sound of his own voice. When he"d said that he thought Akira was fascinating, he hadn"t been lying; out of all the people that Akira has met over the course of his life, Goro had been the one person who seemed to think that Akira"s true self was always more interesting than fiction—a disorienting feeling, to say the least, considering that Akira was a professional at saying as little words as possible so that others could interpret him however they best liked. Goro took everything Akira gave him without reservation. And he didn"t ignore Akira when Akira told him something he disagreed with. He liked it when Akira disagreed with him. It would be awful to watch Goro"s face when Akira say something as simple as You should give yourself more credit for being a good teammate, because Goro"s expression would always twist with discomfort, but he"d listen anyway, and it was worse still that Akira couldn"t help but find himself handing more and more words over to him, watching his own reserve crumble from the outside, knowing that Goro wouldn"t run away and shut his eyes and close his ears no matter what Akira told him. Awful, that they"d just sit there for hours, handing each other pieces of themselves that neither of them could refuse and neither could stop. Awful, that if Akira thinks about it for too long, he knows that if he’d told Goro I"ll miss you on that night in February, Goro would have believed him completely.

*

Direct Message: Makoto Niijima

April 21, 2018, 12:05 PM

MAKOTO: Hey, Akira.

MAKOTO: I know we haven’t talked in a while, but…

AKIRA: Nah, you’re busy

AKIRA: I saw the picture of you placing #1 in your class in the group chat

AKIRA: Congrats

MAKOTO: Thank you.

MAKOTO: I just wanted to check in because I know that moving to college can be difficult sometimes.

MAKOTO: How are you? You’re not having trouble, are you?

AKIRA: Nah I’m good

AKIRA: How are you?

*

Once, in the first few weeks of freshman year, he passes a student on the street passing out fliers for eco-activism, prison reform, and sustainable urban planning. He takes a flier. Studies it for a long time. He"s never really been into eco-activism, but prison reform sounds kind of interesting, considering the amount of time he’s spent in prisons.

And he kind of likes cities, how they"re big monstrous creatures that just grow and grow and somehow spawn more and more people, like the cities come first and birth people rather than the other way around. The flier has a meeting time and place he can go to, or at least a Twitter handle to follow. He follows the Twitter account on the spot, but before he can put the meeting on his calendar, he thinks, What if Goro showed up tomorrow while I was gone?

Eventually, he goes anyway. He tells Morgana where he’s going and leaves him there, and figures that if Goro shows up when he’s out, Morgana will tell him where he is.

The meeting is like jumping into a book halfway through, by which he means that Akira has no idea what’s going on. He sits in the back of the cramped college common room and watches three or four people passionately disagree with each other on an action plan, which Akira also doesn’t understand. By the time the meeting is over, Akira hasn’t said a single word and hasn’t thought about Goro Akechi for two hours straight, which might be a record. He signs up for an email listserv. He introduces himself in two short sentences to an organizer, who tells him they’re happy to have him, and they’ll be meeting again next Thursday night. Would he like to join the after-meeting dinner? It’s nothing special, but there’s pizza and beer, and nobody’s going to snitch on him for underage drinking.

The dinner takes another four hours because it devolves into another informal debate, which Akira sits through, again, without saying a word. He makes a mental map of the interpersonal politics as they begin to emerge, like fine grain as wood is polished, through the rhetoric: Sakada has a personal grudge against Taniguchi beyond ideological differences, while Kumiko, the meeting organizer, must have some external reason to defend Taniguchi—possibly organization funding—because Kumiko obviously also doesn’t agree with Taniguchi either. Taniguchi is passionate and charismatic, but doesn’t take criticism well, and it’s increasingly suckering in the less critical members while dividing the rest, regardless of his political views. Later, Kumiko compliments him on how engaged and focused he is. Akira tells her that he’s having fun, and it’s mostly the truth.

He’s having so much fun that he goes home with Kumiko on a whim, and discovers that Akira Kurusu is, according to Kumiko, a studious young man with obvious drive behind his quiet eyes, despite the fact that Akira didn’t say more than five sentences the entire night and also is on his fourth beer. Which is very flattering, if incorrect and unfounded, but it’s nice to have an expectation to live up to. It’s only when Akira’s finished his walk of shame back to his dorm the morning after that Akira remembers that what Kumiko had said had sounded a lot like what Goro used to.

Goro doesn’t show up that day, either.

AUGUST, 2018

Group chat: Definitely not the ex-Phantom Thieves

August 14, 2018, 5:29 PM

YUSUKE: No, we broke up.

FUTABA: WHAT

YUSUKE: Yes, a while ago, actually.

FUTABA: YOU JUST BROKE UP WITH ICHIROU????

YUSUKE: Actually, I think I was the one who was broken up with.

FUTABA: you THINK???

YUSUKE: Well, he was very angry.

FUTABA: AT YOU??

FUTABA: isnt HE the fucking weirdo who did that creep shit where he took part of ur dorm costs for a while and never paid u back

FUTABA: THE NERVE OF HIM

FUTABA: do i need to leak all his nudes and slash his tires for you

YUSUKE: He said something about how I never think about anyone else but my art.

YUSUKE: His exact words were, “I can’t keep waiting for you to give a damn about me.”

FUTABA: oh.

FUTABA: uh

FUTABA: ugh

FUTABA: that"s actually

FUTABA: kind of understandable.

FUTABA: im still gonna go and steal ur cash back from his bank account tho

FUTABA: i still cant believe he did that and i still cant believe u let him do it

YUSUKE: No, it"s fine.

YUSUKE: I’m sure he’s right.

YUSUKE: And it was an interesting learning experience, dating someone.

FUTABA: learning experience………………………………

FUTABA: do you think ur into girls or smthg

YUSUKE: No, I don"t think dating in general is particularly for me.

YUSUKE: But it was good to try it out and see for myself.

YUSUKE: Or maybe I"ll try again later, but not now.

YUSUKE: Some other day.

FUTABA: wow ur so serene about this

FUTABA: like some kind of weird alien art school buddha

YUSUKE: Well, dating doesn"t seem to be for everyone, does it? For a variety of reasons.

YUSUKE: You, me, Akira, and Ann haven"t really ever dated. I don"t think there"s anything wrong with that, especially since dating was such a tedious process.

FUTABA: TEDIOUS??

YUSUKE: Yes?

FUTABA: inari u know most people would say that dating is the opposite of tedious right

YUSUKE: Am I obligated to parrot the opinion of the general population?

FUTABA: snort

FUTABA: no i"m just like. surprised because

FUTABA: ok well tbh ur right it"s pretty tedious

FUTABA: lol

FUTABA: i……… kind of agree with u but it"s just surprising because so many people seem to think that im crazy for not rly wanting to date someone rn

FUTABA: for the record ann"s single because it"s part of her modeling contract

FUTABA: and also because of maybe some ppl she"s got her heart set on

FUTABA: but i"m not speculating on that in the group chat while ann"s not here

FUTABA: wow never heard someone else call dating tedious before i thought i was the only one

FUTABA: well mostly stressful actually but either way it"s lame

FUTABA: maybe it’d suck less if it wasn’t stressful

FUTABA: yo @akira u wanna join our Single Forever Because Dating Is Tedious club

FUTABA: the acronym is SFBDIT

FUTABA: do u like it

AKIRA: It"s great

AKIRA: I don"t know if dating is tedious, actually, though

FUTABA: are you saying that mr popular over there is single by choice

FUTABA: dont u have like 100000 boys and girls hanging off ur arm

AKIRA: Not really

FUTABA: dude you"re like in every club and niche grassroot thing i know of

FUTABA: your social life is popping

AKIRA: It"s better to stay busy

FUTABA: u can"t tell me that you havent picked up at least a couple of friends w benefits when u got to ur swanky uni dorm

FUTABA: or even high school

AKIRA: Hmmm

AKIRA: Well, it"s not like there wasn"t anyone

FUTABA: HA I KNEW IT

AKIRA: But it was a little boring after a while, so it didn"t last very long

FUTABA: oh

FUTABA: huh

FUTABA: so u also think that dating is tedious?

AKIRA: It"s only tedious if you"re with the wrong person

AKIRA: I think you have to find the right one

SEPTEMBER, 2018

Sometimes, despite his better judgment, he thinks about why Goro might not have shown up for all these years. He doesn"t like this train of thought, because it"s always a task and a half to figure out what would be such a good reason that Goro wouldn’t even bother to contact him.

His favorite one he’s come up with so far is that Goro isn’t contacting him because Goro is caught up in the remains of Shido’s conspiracy and is trying to keep Akira out of danger. Maybe one day, Akira will be on his way to visit Sojiro on a weekend night, and he’ll pass Leblanc, and there will be Goro, slumped against the alley wall, blood leaking from the bullet wound in his shoulder. (It’s not lethal, of course.) He’d barely recognize Akira when Akira shakes him awake. I didn’t know where else to go, Goro would say. Voice strained, his bloody hand on Akira’s jacket. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—

It’s okay, Akira would tell him. And Akira wouldn’t mind at all, just drag him into the shelter of Leblanc, hands careful, knowing he and he alone gets to see Goro at his bruised and broken. He’d get the first aid kit, tuck Goro into the nearest seat booth, tell him to relax, but Goro wouldn’t, of course. He’d struggle to stay conscious, eyes glassy, dirt and sweat across his skin.

I didn’t want to put you in danger.

What does danger matter when Goro Akechi is shaking against Akira’s chest? I’ve got you, Akira would tell him, and definitely would not be freaking out about Goro being shot in the shoulder—actually, a bullet wound in the shoulder is actually a very unappreciated detail of this scenario because he always thought that when the bulkhead doors went up in the engine room, that the cognition shot Goro in the shoulder, then, too…

Never mind. I didn’t mean to see you again like this, Goro would say quietly. I meant to tell you that I was alive…

It’s okay, Akira would say again, and because this is Akira’s daydream, he’d really mean it. He’d wipe the dirt off Goro’s cheek with his thumb, and Goro would close his eyes, lean into the touch. And Akira wouldn’t be mad at all that Goro didn’t tell him that he was alive, not even a little bit, because how could he be when Goro only meant to keep Akira out of harm’s way—

Okay, alright, Akira can tell when his own daydreaming is getting outrageously self-centered. Also a little creepy. Clichés from movies about secret agents winding up bleeding on the doorstep of their lover is fun in movies, but actually if that happened in real life, Akira’s pretty sure he’d lose his shit.

—but what if Goro had amnesia, and that’s why Goro hadn’t come back? Maybe one day Akira would bump into a stranger on the street who has no idea who Akira is. He’d startle and apologize, introduce himself as Goro Akechi, have genuinely no idea who Akira is, only a faint sense of familiarity: Have we met before? I feel like the two of us…

Well, Akira wouldn’t be an idiot. He wouldn’t go around insisting, Yes, we know each other, and also I love you because that would be insane to spring on a supposed stranger on the street. Instead he’d go about it the old Phantom Thief way: Get Goro’s new number, wait a day, then text him to ask if Goro would be interested in getting a cup of coffee the next day. Not too fast, not too late. The twenty-four-hour rule of asking someone on a date.

They could go to all the same places they went to before: Leblanc, the aquarium, the planetarium, Inokashira. Goro might try to teach him how to cycle through Inokashira, even though Goro already did that before he lost his memories, and Akira would go along with it anyway. I feel strange when I’m with you, Goro would say, just like he had the first time around, but this time around Akira would be bolder, and he’d ask, In a good way, I hope?

And Goro wouldn’t remember anything about Shido, or his mother’s death, or the Metaverse; so Goro would just smile and say, In a very good way, yes. (Also, conveniently, the other Phantom Thieves would just leave the whole affair alone and not have any opinion about Akira hanging out with an amnesiac Goro Akechi.)

Akira knows that amnesia working like it does in stories is ridiculous, but he likes the idea that he could have the chance to fall in love with Goro all over again. Over and over again, even. As many times as it takes. Maybe if he tries it again, he could do it right this time, and by the end, Goro wouldn’t leave.

*

Or maybe Goro was off doing more Persona-related adventures; maybe he"d been picked up by the government for his abilities and was off being a spy—maybe he was being used for his Metaverse abilities, just like how Shido had used him the first time around; but then Akira remembers that Goro really would rather be dead than used for someone else"s agenda again, and then it"s oddly reassuring that Goro might actually be dead.

*

"Akira," says Morgana, and Akira somehow knows exactly what he"s about to say before he even looks up from the economics problem set he"s filling out. When Akira was pulling books out of his bag, he’d accidentally pulled out the glove with the corner of his textbook, and now Morgana is staring at it in distaste, as if Akira is keeping a corpse in his duffel bag. There"s a very heavy pause, where Morgana tries to figure out a nice way of saying I know you liked him but isn"t it time to throw this away in a sensitive way, and Akira does absolutely nothing to help him, because he"d rather not hear it.

Eventually, Morgana hops up on Akira"s dorm room desk and curls up under Akira"s warm study lamp. "Do you still miss him?"

Akira stops twirling his pencil. Then twirls again, trying to not be caught having a reaction, but it"s too late. He"d really rather Morgana have just said Get rid of this ratty old glove you can"t even wear. Actionable advice. Something concrete to do. What"s the point of knowing whether or not Akira still misses him or not?

"I made a promise," says Akira instead.

"So you have to keep this thing around? I don"t like it."

"It"s because of the promise for a rematch."

"Then he could"ve given you a card that says that," says Morgana grumpily.

What, like a love note in a girl’s locker? Akira would have laughed. "He said it"s because it"s a tradition in the West."

Morgana flicks his tail angrily. "It feels like the... the thing humans have where their hands are the same but opposite. And that makes the glove you have one half of an incomplete set. Don"t you think that"s kind of a weird thing to keep around?"

That sounds kind of romantic, actually. "I didn"t know you thought about it that much," he teases.

"Of course I do! I"m the one who sits on this thing all day long when I"m hanging around your duffel bag! And you can"t tell me that you haven"t thought of it!"

Akira just looks at him.

"You"re not an incomplete half of a set," says Morgana.

Akira smiles. Pats Morgana on the head, which gets a nose-scrunch from Morgana"s kitty face. Morgana was the one who spent many a sleepless night worried about his missing memories, desperately trying to remember what his original purpose was; Morgana, out of everyone, should know that people are incomplete all the time. "It"s not that simple," he reminds Morgana.

"Well, it"s...!" Morgana nearly bolts up, and then makes himself lie back down. "...I don"t want you to just wait forever. You have all these friends, from the old Thieves to the clubs you"re in and the groups you joined. When will it be over?”

"Soon," says Akira, with complete certainty.

FEBRUARY, 2019

Group chat: Definitely not the ex-Phantom Thieves

February 02, 2019, 6:06 PM

FUTABA: HOLY SHIT

FUTABA: @EVERYONE GET ONLINE RIGHT NOW MAKOTO"S TAKING A YEAR OFF

MAKOTO: It"s not a year off.

MAKOTO: It"s a police internship that lasts a year, and is full time, and I can"t attend school while working sixty hours a week.

AKIRA: Hey, congratulations

MAKOTO: Thank you.

FUTABA: isnt sixty illegal

MAKOTO: Well, it"s not uncommon in the field...

MAKOTO: Technically you"re not supposed to work that long but everyone stays late...

YUSUKE: Ah, congratulations, Makoto!

RYUJI: yooooo congrats!

ANN: Oh

ANN: Um wow! Congratulations?

MAKOTO: Thank you very much.

MAKOTO: I was debating about whether or not I should take this internship or another one that was part time, but...

MAKOTO: I figured that if I"m serious about reforming the police system, then I have to go all in.

Direct message: Ann Takamaki

February 02, 2019, 6:11 PM

ANN: Hey Akira?

AKIRA: Yeah?

ANN: You know that thing about how we were all like “fuck cops” for the entire second year of high school

ANN: Because they literally never did a single thing to help anyone that entire year

ANN: And actually were just huge bastards trying to cover up government corruption

AKIRA: Yeah

ANN: Ummmmmmmmm

ANN: Did you like… know that Makoto wanted to be a police officer…?

ANN: Bc I didn’t

AKIRA: I did

AKIRA: She told me about it a while ago

AKIRA: Don’t worry about it

AKIRA: She worked hard for this internship

ANN: Uhhh

ANN: I don’t. Get it

ANN: Why are we all congratulating her for trying to become a cop…?

AKIRA: It means a lot to her

ANN: Akira you were the one who went through that whole thing in november

AKIRA: Just let her

ANN: Akira?!?!?

AKIRA: Just let her

ANN: 😶

Group chat: Definitely not the ex-Phantom Thieves

February 02, 2019, 6:16 PM

MAKOTO: I"ve decided I won"t be worried about my grades slipping or falling behind during the year off.

ANN: Aren"t you already top of your class though??

MAKOTO: I"m trying not to worry about it.

HARU: Congratulations!!!!!!

HARU: Oh I"m so excited!!!

HARU: Should we celebrate?

HARU: Here’s to Makoto reforming the justice system!

FUTABA: here’s to makoto finally learning how to unclench about her academics in her second year of college

ANN: Futaba...

MAKOTO: Thank you, Futaba. I’m quite proud of it myself.

HARU: Oh my gosh. Hahaha

HARU: Is there anything specific about your internship that you"re going to be doing?

MAKOTO: Surprisingly, mostly detective work, I think?

MAKOTO: I"m not supposed to be on the field yet because I haven"t gone through the police academy, but they"ll let me shadow an existing officer and let me help them with their paperwork and assist on cases within the parameters my mentor will allow.

MAKOTO: Sae recommended it because

MAKOTO: Well.

MAKOTO: ...To put it blandly, she knew some people who were on a similar internship, but designed for high school students.

RYUJI: wait

RYUJI: you mean he was on an internship that whole time

MAKOTO: Do you really think they would have let a high school student be a full-fledged detective?

MAKOTO: Sorry. I didn"t mean to bring up a bad subject.

HARU: Are you talking to me?

HARU: I think it"s a little cute that you"ll be doing such a similar internship when you were always competing with him!

MAKOTO: For vastly different reasons, though.

MAKOTO: In any event, the program itself will be very similar.

ANN: Well I think a whole year away from university would be so much fun for you Makoto

MAKOTO: Thank you.

MAKOTO: I"ll do my best with this opportunity.

MAKOTO: I do truly believe that the police system can be reformed for the better.

Direct message: Ann Takamaki

February 02, 2019, 6:29 PM

ANN: 😶 😶 😶 😶

AKIRA: Haha

AKIRA: She means well

ANN: Pardon my french but good intentions don’t mean jack shit

ANN: Akira are you really sure about this?

AKIRA: I’m sure

Group chat: Definitely not the ex-Phantom Thieves

February 02, 2019, 6:31 PM

RYUJI: everyone"s working hard huh

MAKOTO: Yes.

RYUJI: better not let you guys make me look bad then

RYUJI: here"s to making tomorrow better than today!!! 💪💪

RYUJI: it"s college after all

RYUJI: prime of our lives

RYUJI: time to seize our dreams and our futures!

MARCH, 2019

Sometimes Akira dreams that when tomorrow comes, Sae calls him in the middle of the night and says We found his body. Akira leaves his classes without so much as an explanation to his professors and goes to straight to the funeral, which makes no sense in terms of real-world timelines, but that"s how the dream usually goes, without so much as a pause for breath for Akira to change into funeral attire. He shows up just a regular university kid in his plain, neutral-colors wardrobe, and he practically blends into the wallpaper when he walks through the room.

The funeral hall is usually empty. Sae was there only once; another time, Maruki was there; Sae didn"t apologize, but Maruki did; both of them left quickly. For some reason—this isn"t how funerals go, of course—the casket with the body is there in the room, and Akira just walks right up to it and unlocks the casket with his own two hands and pushes the lid up—

—but he never sees Goro"s face. In the dream, he knows the body is there, and he knows the body is Goro"s, and he especially knows it"s Goro because he feels the relief drench him like a summer flash flood, pinning him to the edge of the casket as all grief is beaten away. But he never quite manages to make out Goro"s face. And when he wakes up, he keeps thinking that that"s the most important part, and maybe if only he could remember what Goro"s face looked like in the casket, he could hold onto that sense of finally being free.

Other times, he dreams about an attic in Leblanc, full of sunlight, a chessboard between the two of them and a cup of coffee Akira made in Goro"s hands. Nowhere else to be, no other commitments, no fear of getting caught or getting murdered of making the deadline, no meeting for Goro to run off to. No reservation in Goro"s smile at all. In these dreams, Goro talks on and on excitedly about whatever it is he"s read recently that he"s passionate about, and Akira thinks it"s all interesting, and when Goro laces his fingers through Akira"s, he feels free then, too.

*

Direct Message: Haru Okumura

March 04, 2019, 1:59 AM

AKIRA: I kind of do wanna just be a barista

HARU: You make a very good barista!

AKIRA: Thanks

HARU: But I think if you’re aiming to take over Leblanc, Sojiro might not take kindly to you using his coffee shop as a front for your student activism meetings.

AKIRA: Whoops

AKIRA: I’m pretty transparent huh

HARU: ❀(*´◡`*)❀

HARU: You can take the Phantom Thief out of the Metaverse, but not the Phantom Thief out of the Phantom Thief!

HARU: …Hmmm. I don’t think that’s how that phrase is supposed to go…

AKIRA: Haha

HARU: In any event, I actually spend most of my time wondering what you’re thinking!

AKIRA: It’s nothing interesting, to be honest

HARU: Oh, I’m sure that’s not true!

HARU: Even just your ambitions with declaring a business major is very interesting!

HARU: Although I’m very curious about why you aren’t going to minor in psychology, if you don’t mind me asking.

AKIRA: I don’t think psych was it for me

HARU: Did the internship not work out?

AKIRA: Hmmmm

AKIRA: I got to sit in on a few of the counseling sessions as a shadow intern

AKIRA: And the grief counseling just didn’t really make sense

AKIRA: I kind of thought that counseling would make more sense if I saw someone practice it who wasn’t Maruki-sensei

AKIRA: But even done by pros who’ve dedicated their lives to it, it’s weirdly artificial

AKIRA: And because it’s not genuine, it feels like nobody ever actually gets over their grief

HARU: I think they might be aware of that.

HARU: The counselor that I saw…

HARU: Ah, for context, I did see a grief counselor, very briefly, when my father passed away.

HARU: And she told me that grief isn’t something that goes away, but something that you befriend, so that you can carry it with you.

AKIRA: That’s really poetic

HARU: Yes, it was quite obnoxious.

HARU: I remember thinking,

HARU: Well, if I’m never going to get rid of this grief, then what’s the point of this? What am I paying for therapy for?

HARU: If I’m never going to get rid of this feeling, I’d really rather just have him back.

HARU: You know?

AKIRA: Yeah

AKIRA: Yeah

*

Morgana stares for a long time at the glove when Akira puts it in the duffel bag, nowadays. Akira never hesitates to place it securely at the bottom, so it won"t fall out. Sometimes Akira watches Morgana watching him, daring him to say anything about it. Morgana never does. Akira doesn"t know what else he expected.

Eventually, Akira starts putting it in his pants pocket instead.

APRIL, 2019

Group chat: Definitely not the ex-Phantom Thieves

April 13, 2019, 10:25 PM

FUTABA: @akira

FUTABA: @akira

FUTABA: @AKIRA

FUTABA: @AKIRA GET ONLINE

FUTABA: oh fuck me

RYUJI: language bro

FUTABA: im 18 and u aren’t my dad. eff off

RYUJI: ok i guess i’ll just screenshot it and send it to boss?

FUTABA: NO

FUTABA: wait i’m 18 and sojiro isn’t my dad

RYUJI: uh

RYUJI: didn’t you sign legal papers to make him your dad

FUTABA: he’s not my dad when i wanna say the fuck word and i think that i should be especially allowed to say the fuck word when the university cancels the online courses option

FUTABA: hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh come on………… come ON

RYUJI: wait i thought you missed the cutoff for the college app??

FUTABA: wow

FUTABA: i kind of didn’t expect you to keep track of my college app deadlines

RYUJI: uhh yeah man like

RYUJI: you missed the deadline the first time around

RYUJI: it was kinda worrying

FUTABA: UGH you don’t have to remind me

FUTABA: i got nervous ok

FUTABA: they were all like

FUTABA: “write a 500 word essay about ur trauma”

FUTABA: well not literally ur trauma but like something big that happened to you or whatever

FUTABA: and then they gave us all like 4 weeks to do it

FUTABA: FOUR WEEKS

FUTABA: four weeks to just procrastinate and dread every moment of my existence and beat myself into the ground for every moment i’m not working on my 500 words

FUTABA: and then inevitably do it all at 11:58 PM

RYUJI: except then you didn’t do it at 11:58 pm

RYUJI: dude i love the 11:58 pm method but

RYUJI: the whole point of it is that you actually turn it in on 11:58 pm?

FUTABA: i really feel some type of way about ryuji sakamoto being better at college applications than me

FUTABA: and also ryuji sakamoto having a better memory about my own college apps than me

FUTABA: for your information i missed the cutoff for the first semester but i’m applied to enroll starting in the second semester

FUTABA: the one that starts in the fall

FUTABA: and i did actually get that application in on time

FUTABA: and they did actually accept me

RYUJI: WHOA?

FUTABA: DON’T ACT SURPRISED

RYUJI: no it’s a good whoa!

RYUJI: you didn’t tell any of us?

RYUJI: dude that’s awesome!

FUTABA: it’s only online classes!!!

FUTABA: it’s nothing to celebrate

FUTABA: and now they’re cancelling those for some stupid reason

RYUJI: uhhhh… i think that going to online classes is still going to classes…

FUTABA: hrk

RYUJI: you’re still working towards a degree and youre doing homework and stuff

FUTABA: maybe they just don’t want me taking their classes

FUTABA: “fuck this girl in particular, we shouldn’t have accepted her in the first place”

RYUJI: uhhh

RYUJI: hey?

FUTABA: ok ok i get it

FUTABA: ill stop bullying myself

RYUJI: i just think it’s really cool that you skipped a grade to graduate with your age group and you’re going to a really cool university

RYUJI: you basically speedran high school in two years which is awesome

FUTABA: yeah and i hated every minute of high school

FUTABA: it’s all deadlines and people trying to talk to you and projects that you don’t care about and people trying to talk to you about projects you don’t care about

FUTABA: it was awful

RYUJI: that just makes it even more cool that you did high school so fast

RYUJI: also didn’t you join the drama club at one point

RYUJI: and made a bunch of friends?

RYUJI: and cried when one of them transferred because you were so close

RYUJI: i thought you were having fun at drama?

FUTABA: HG

RYUJI: was it really that bad…?

RYUJI: damn now i feel bad…

RYUJI: i shoulda noticed if you hated shujin that much…

RYUJI: i meant to look out for you but i guess i got so caught up in track and stuff…

FUTABA: NO RYUJI I

FUTABA: hghg it wasn’t THAT bad

FUTABA: im just grouchy because it feels like the uni is conspiring against me

FUTABA: probs because im a shit student who isn’t meant for school

FUTABA: god i really should just start my own business or something and skip college

RYUJI: well if you wanna do that then we’ll definitely have your back

RYUJI: but i thought you said you wanted to go to college because there’s cog psience stuff you can learn there?

RYUJI: and i don’t really know anything about computers or science but all your application materials were crazy good

RYUJI: i bet theyre psyched to have you taking their online courses

RYUJI: i bet if you wanna delay or something they’d let you so you can do online courses and stuff

RYUJI: but if you wanna try in person classes too we’re always around if you want help

RYUJI: if you want help going to classes or commuting from home or something just let me know

FUTABA: ryuji you need to shut up before i cry

RYUJI: what

RYUJI: oh shit did i say something wrong

RYUJI: uhh sorry i didn’t mean whatever i said

FUTABA: no it’s a good cry because youre being too nice but you gotta stop talking before i admit to more feelings

RYUJI: OH

RYUJI: oh ok i’ll stop talking

RYUJI: but like i’m only like thirty minutes away by train so let me know if you wanna hang out!!!

RYUJI: i’ve got your back for anything

FUTABA: ryuji you human embodiment of sunshine youre just making this worse

AKIRA: Hi?

FUTABA: HRJFGNFGJHJRHJFNGJHWDFHSDFJHHFHGHDFRNGH 15 MINUTES LATE WITH STARBUCSK

FUTABA: don’t worry about it akira

FUTABA: ryuji is now my key item

FUTABA: society has surpassed the need for akira to baby me every time i have an emotion

AKIRA: I feel like this is a meme I’m supposed to know

FUTABA: wow u rly don’t spend any time online huh

FUTABA: it’s fine i spent so long waiting for u that i moved on

FUTABA: time to grow the fuck up and do something else with my life besides being a loser and i’m going to do it powered entirely by ryuji’s sunshine personality

RYUJI: taba you’re not a loser……

FUTABA: thank you for proving my point sunshine boy

AKIRA: Sorry, I was reading the backlogs

AKIRA: Are you going to try in person classes?

FUTABA: uhhhhh

FUTABA: well now that i talked to ryuji about it i keep thinking

FUTABA: i spent all that time in high school

FUTABA: worked my ass off and graduated in only two years and everything

FUTABA: i can do this

FUTABA: i gotta man up and just go to in person classes

FUTABA: i cant be stuck in the past forever

FUTABA: no more wimpy futaba

FUTABA: no more futaba emotional resilience like a limp stringbean!!!

FUTABA: futaba’s emotions are about to get SWOLE

FUTABA: emotional resilience is going to go to the gym every day and get ripped so i’m never going to be afraid of college again

FUTABA: god i wish i could have written about me getting emotionally swole in my 500 word essay abt my trauma

RYUJI: taba i have no idea what youre talking about 99% of the time but hell YEAH

RYUJI: get SWOLE

FUTABA: time to get emotionally JACKED

FUTABA: my emotional resilience is about to get RRRRRRIPPED

FUTABA: ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA

RYUJI: HELL YEAH

FUTABA: HELL YEAH!!!!!!

FUTABA: come on akira please be excited for my gigantic new biceps on my emotional resilience

FUTABA: can i get a hell yeah for my rippling emotion pecs

AKIRA: You’ve really been enjoying JJBA, haven’t you

FUTABA: my new appreciation for gigantic biceps has nothing to do with my love for jotaro.

FUTABA: it’s my character development.

FUTABA: please accept me as i am akira and my new passion for huge muscles.

AKIRA: I’m glad you’re doing well

FUTABA: ofc!!!!

FUTABA: gotta try hard every day

FUTABA: no more being stuck in mistakes and the past!!!!!!

MAY, 2019

One day, he walks down to the dorm basement and sees his room door already open. There’s a tall figure in the doorway, with short, light brown hair. For a whole second, Akira doesn’t move, just stands there with his heart in his throat and really manages to believe that the wait is over until the person turns, and it’s actually a girl with a boyish haircut from down the hall. “Oh! I’m sorry,” she says quickly, “I just heard a cat, and when I knocked on the door it was unlocked and opened on its own… I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean…”

Akira takes a deep breath. Morgana pokes his head out from behind the door.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she says again, now looking somewhat genuinely alarmed. “I wasn’t trying to steal anything, I swear—”

“That’s true,” says Morgana, although she can’t hear him.

“No worries,” Akira tells the girl. “I must have forgotten to lock it. That’s my mistake.” He didn’t forget to lock it. He leaves it unlocked, especially when he’s leaving Morgana behind, in case someone important comes by.

“Still, I really didn’t mean to upset you…” says the girl.

“It’s alright,” says Akira, quieter. “I just thought you were someone else.”

*

He’d thought—

No. It’s fine. It just means he has to wait a little while longer.

He’d waited this long. He can do this. He just has to last one more day.

*

Why is it taking so long for Goro to do—whatever it is he’s been doing since they left Maruki’s reality? If Goro survived his first death, of course he’d survive his second death—Akira can understand if he’s wrapped up doing jail time or something to do with the police, but you’d think that Goro would at least tell him that he’s alive, wouldn’t you?

Unless Goro thinks their promise didn’t mean anything at all. Maybe Goro thinks that he doesn’t have any obligation to tell Akira if he’s alive or death. What do Goro and Akira really owe each other, anyway? It’s not like they promised anything except a rematch one day. And—and when they were in Maruki’s reality, Goro was always so insistent on This is just a deal, and This is only temporary, and Only until we get out.

Maybe he thinks that Akira forgot his promise? Does he think that Akira would have thrown the glove away when Goro tried to kill him that November? Was Akira supposed to throw it away? Nearly two years in and only now Akira’s thinking that maybe he had it all wrong, and maybe Goro was just pulling another complicated series of lies on him all along. Maybe, when Goro said they were “rivals,” Akira’s the only one who felt that that meant they were something to each other, and all of Akira’s endless waiting is his own fault.

*

Direct message: Futaba Sakura

May 05, 2019, 11:01 PM

FUTABA: so you’ve been offline lately because u finally found a gf right

AKIRA: Why are you so invested in me getting a girlfriend lol

AKIRA: What if I got a boyfriend instead

FUTABA: then i would be equally as glad because i need u to be not single so i don’t have to worry about u stealing sumi away before i ask her out

AKIRA: Then ask her out

FUTABA: ok that sounds cool but also consider

FUTABA: what if i sit here and wait for the universe to align and that way i don’t have to suffer the mortifying ordeal of asking the pretty girl with the hot mega biceps on a date

FUTABA: no for real i just wanna know what ur up to

FUTABA: i just also enjoy being a mild to moderate pest about it

AKIRA: It’s just clubs and things

AKIRA: I’m always busy but really most of it is just meetings that probably could have been done over email

FUTABA: oh wow you sound like an old man

FUTABA: at this rate i’m gonna get a girlfriend before u do

FUTABA: sumiiiiiii~~~~~~~~ im comingggggg

FUTABA: wrap me in ur big sweaty arms and carry me away on your amazing thighs~~~~~~~

AKIRA: Haha

AKIRA: Don’t wait up for me

AKIRA: There’s nothing stopping you from asking her out right now

FUTABA: HHHH ok i get it thank u

FUTABA: but like for real dude whatre u waiting for

AKIRA: Hmmmmmmm

AKIRA: The right person?

FUTABA: isn’t that why you date

FUTABA: to find the right person

FUTABA: i don’t think that’s something ur supposed to wait for

*

Akira has never been back to the jazz club, which is odd, considering how frequently he thinks about seeing Goro there. In his head, he might be the one already seated at a table, and then he looks up—other times, it’s Goro at the table, and Akira weaves through the subdued crowds until he taps Goro on the shoulder, and Goro finally turns around—

Akira wishes he could imagine sweeping Goro to his feet and pulling him onto the dance floor, except there is no dance floor in the jazz club in the first place, and also Akira doesn’t know how to dance even a little bit. But also he doesn’t think that he’d mind trying it out if they were alone, maybe in someone’s apartment by themselves, a song playing from a tiny phone speaker as Goro bosses him through a series of steps he doesn’t understand and inevitably screws up, only for Goro to sigh, like he doesn’t greatly enjoy being a huge know-it-all and telling Akira what to do, and explain it all a second time, which Akira doesn’t hear at all because he’s too busy watching Goro try to keep a straight face and not let his smile get the better of him.

But if they were at the jazz club, Akira would have to play it cool: He’d ask if the seat at Goro’s table was taken (it wouldn’t be), sit down beside him, listen to the live performance like it’s any other day. And the longer he’d ignore Goro, the more questions Goro would have, but he wouldn’t dare talk while the performance was going on, so he’d just have to wait until either she finished singing or until Goro lost his patience—knowing Goro, Akira isn’t betting on the first one.

Goro might stand up sharply, pull Akira to his feet and drag them into the club bathroom together—What are you doing here, Goro would ask, You’re not supposed to be here. It’s dangerous. (This is one of those where Akira figures that maybe Goro hasn’t talked to him for all these years because he’s on the run and is trying to protect Akira. Alright, Akira can roll with it.)

I couldn’t just let you go, Akira would tell him.

You’re supposed to, says Goro. You were supposed to move on. Just forget me.

Can you forget me? Akira would ask, and Goro would do that outrageously maddening thing where he turns his face away, looks down, tightens his jaw and shuts all his expression down, like if he’s not careful, he’ll be caught having been soft. Can you? Akira would ask, and maybe move in a little closer, peering inwards, trying to catch Goro’s eye—

(January, 2017. A woman singing her regrets through a recording, voice grainy from a lifetime of song and electronic playback. “People have been debating how justice and law should work since before we had tools,” Goro says, fiddling with his non-alcohol drink. “I’m sure that the Phantom Thieves think that justice is simple, but it grows deceptively more complex the more one studies it. Do the means justify the ends? Can great societal change be accomplished without force or even violence?”

Akira frowns at Goro’s little fake margarita umbrella.

Goro leans across the jazz club table, which is far too small to be leaning across. Akira doesn’t pull away anyway. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“You really want to know what I think?” says Akira.

“I always want to hear what you think,” Goro says with a smile.

Akira rests his elbows on the table, leans in so that if either one of them pushed just a little further, their noses would practically be touching. “I think,” Akira says softly, “that you’re full of shit.”

Goro smiles without his eyes. His teeth, small and sharp, gleam behind his almost-closed lips. “Someone’s sure of himself. Suppose it takes that much, from someone in your position. Inspiring the Phantom Thieves with your unwavering conviction, are you.”

“I don’t have all the answers.”

“Do you tell the Thieves that, too?”

“I don’t talk to them about this kind of thing,” Akira admits quietly. Neither of them have blinked in a while, holding each other’s gaze. “But you’re fooling yourself if you think justice is that complicated. It’s the bottom line that matters.”

“Oh?” Is Goro coming even closer? “And that is…?”

“To stop people from being shitty to each other,” says Akira.

Goro laughs shortly in surprise. Akira smiles. “I mean it. I know it looks like the Phantom Thieves are targeting huge, corrupt adults, but…”

“Certainly those who deserved it,” says Goro.

“I don’t care what they deserved,” says Akira. “We chose our targets based on preventing them hurting people. Usually someone we knew.”

“Some would say that’s an entirely reactionary, short-sighted method of reform. Addressing only the immediate harms, rather than seeking preventative, long-term solutions.”

“We prevented all of our targets from abusing others long-term,” says Akira flatly.

“You have to think bigger, Kurusu. Think about the entirety of society. The structure of it. Laws and policies.”

“I don’t really care about that,” Akira replies flatly. “I care about people. It’s not about laws or getting even or anything. All it is, is doing right by other people with whatever you can do.”

“It’s not always that simple.”

“Yes, it is. If the law and structure and policies matter, it’s because the law should serve people, not the other way around.”

“So justice has other people at the center of it,” says Goro quietly.

“Why not? You can’t go wrong giving a damn about the person right in front of you.”

“And the law?”

“Laws are fake. People are real.”

Goro’s smile disappears.

He pulls away, too, leaving Akira to blink dazedly like he’s missed a stair going down. “You always manage to make me think, Akira,” Goro says, looking down at his school jacket, brushing away a wrinkle that isn’t there. He swallows. “You always…”

Expressionless, eyes hard and set beneath his lashes, Goro doesn’t speak again, and suddenly Akira isn’t sure when they had this conversation.

August? October? Akira was so sure it was in January, but that doesn’t make sense. Goro could have never talked about Akira being part of the Thieves in the first or second semesters, but Goro wouldn’t have defended such a grey-morality view of justice in the third semester. No, maybe he would have—but Akira also knows that Goro barely smiled, in January, not in any way beyond humorless smirks. He’d never have leaned over the table, his face only a breath away, because the second the year turned 2017, Goro had drawn away—)

—only for Goro would look at him harshly in the dim bathroom lights. Can I forget you? I can do whatever it is that I have to, he’d say. Can you?

*

Akira hopes tomorrow will come soon.

JUNE, 2019

Direct Message: Futaba Sakura

June 02, 2019, 12:06 PM

FUTABA: yo akira

FUTABA: r u ok lately

Direct Message: Futaba Sakura

June 04, 2019, 8:56 AM

AKIRA: ?

AKIRA: Sorry, I missed this

FUTABA: np

FUTABA: you’ve been p quiet in the group chat is all

AKIRA: I’m just busy lately

Direct Message: Futaba Sakura

June 05, 2019, 3:04 PM

FUTABA: are u super double triple sure youre ok

AKIRA: What brought this up?

FUTABA: uh

FUTABA: hm

FUTABA: never mind

AKIRA: Ok

JULY, 2019

(Sometimes when Akira thinks about what it"d be like when Goro dares to show his face again, Akira imagines that he would hiss How fucking dare you just leave me for all those years without an apology, without a goodbye, without even an explanation and Goro would just say loftily, I had my reasons, because Goro would always have some incredibly good reason that Akira would forgive him for later, when he was done being mad, but just then Akira would say Not even an apology and Goro would say I wouldn"t be a very good rival if I just handed you an apology, would I and he"d smirk and wrap his legs around Akira"s waist and breathe Why don"t you make me apologize and shiver in Akira"s arms when Akira bites his lips hard enough to taste blood—)

*

No, he’s waiting for Goro to come back. It’ll happen soon.

He’s sure that there’s a good reason.

*

(Sometimes Akira thinks that when Goro shows up, he’ll just punch him in the face. He won’t apologize. He won’t hold back. He’ll hit as hard as he can, knock Goro to his feet. Pin him down to the floor. Wrap his hands around his neck. Squeeze, until Goro would finally have a decent excuse for not telling Akira that he was alive after all.)

*

(Sometimes Akira’s very glad that all he can do is imagine because then he doesn"t have to explain himself when Goro shows up "tomorrow" and Akira doesn"t have to apologize for pushing him up against the wall and kissing him as hard as he can without so much as a hello, not even asking where he was because he’s not sure that he could handle whatever bullshit comes out of Goro’s mouth, and Goro would kiss him back immediately and they wouldn"t have to talk about anything and they"d understand each other perfectly when Akira breathes Goro"s name against his lips and Goro"s nails would dig deep into Akira"s skin, holding their bodies close, and Akira could press all his anger at Goro having left him for weeks and months and years not knowing where Goro was and clinging to half a hope and Goro would eat up all his fury with a sharp-toothed grin and they"d drag each other close like a stranglehold, because if there"s anyone that Akira could show his anger to, it"d be Goro, who"d just like him more for it. Akira could sink his teeth into the soft length of Goro’s neck, the color red in his vision, bitterly pleased at the little noise Goro makes; Goro could pull at his hair with a vicious hiss, telling him Is that all you’ve got? and pull hard at Akira’s hair until Akira was dizzy. You should show me your true feelings for once, Goro would say quietly, a challenge that Akira would never refuse, can do nothing else but step up to the plate and let Goro push Akira to his knees and—)

*

“Joker!” Morgana yowls in Akira ear, and Akira sits bolt upright through the ghost of Goro Akechi’s torso, shattering the dream with his loud panting. The room is entirely dark.

“Is it tomorrow?” Akira asks blearily.

“What? It’s—it’s three in the morning, if that’s what you mean…?”

Akira groans. Rests his forehead on his knees.

“Joker…?” Morgana says again. “Are you okay?”

Why does everyone keep asking that? Usually when you tell people you’re fine, they go away, which is the way Akira likes it; he’s never known anyone to start getting more insistent the more you say you’re fine. “I’m okay,” says Akira. “I guess I was having a bad dream?”

“You guess so?”

Akira doesn’t know if it was good or bad. He tries to breathe deep.

“…Are you sure you’re okay?” asks Morgana.

Akira can feel his own blood pounding behind his eyeballs. Fuck, this hurts.

“I’m just tired,” says Akira.

AUGUST, 2019

Direct Message: Yusuke Kitagawa

August 05, 2019

AKIRA: Yeah, I’m good

AKIRA: How’re you

SEPTEMBER, 2019

Maybe Goro would walk right through Akira’s dorm room right now. Right this second. See Akira staring out the window, dreaming over some boy from ages ago, two years, almost three, and Goro would kick his chair up against the wall, drag Akira to his feet. You still haven’t moved on? Goro would sneer. After all this time?

He was just waiting for—

You think I’d accept a piece of shit like you as my rival? Goro would interrupt. You couldn’t make me stay that night in February. You couldn’t get me out of the engine room alive. You can’t even accept that I’m gone. The hell would I want with someone like you?

You’re not gone, Akira would say. You’re right here.

Look at me, Goro would hiss. Do I look like Goro Akechi to you? This lonely, sad fantasy, showing up whenever you want to feel bad for yourself? Do you think that’s what Goro Akechi was?

No—no, of course not. Akira never meant…

I don’t care what you meant.

I just miss you, Akira would say.

The fingers around Akira’s shirt collar would tighten. Goro’s hand would just lift him higher by the collar, until Akira struggled to keep his balance. Inches from Akira’s face, Goro’s eyes are an unnatural shade of red, rimmed dark with the shadows of his bangs. Good intentions don’t mean shit.

I know, Akira would say.

If you know so, then do something about it.

I know!

Stop saying that! Goro would shake him hard. Did you think that I chose to leave Maruki’s reality just for you to turn into some spineless slug?!

No!

Then give it up, Kurusu! Stop clinging to useless scraps of hope and have the strength to face reality as it—!

Give up hope? Akira would snarl right back. You think hope makes me weak?!

That’s not what— is all Goro gets out before Akira shoves him hard, knocking them both off balance because Goro didn’t actually let go of his collar, and there’s an ungainly fall as they push and shove each other all the way down until Goro had him pinned to the ground.

No matter how Akira would struggle, Goro wouldn’t let him up, until all Akira can do is spit: You could be out there somewhere! You could show up any day, now! And you just want me to give up on you?!

Goro shoves him harder against the floor. He’d look livid, then, a nearly deranged level of fury that Akira had only ever seen out of him in the Metaverse. You don’t know if I’m even alive!

I do, says Akira. You’re the one who promised.

Goro would freeze. So this is my fault, now, Goro would say quietly. The lower volume isn’t reassuring. It’s said like a threat, while Goro figures out exactly what he’s about to be furious over.

I didn’t mean that. I just thought… Akira would break off. Goro would look so goddamn disappointed in him, but it wouldn’t matter too much because Goro’s face would be huge in Akira’s vision, and Goro would be sitting on his chest, Akira’s hands flat against his back, holding him close. I knew you would have hated to go without having our rematch. You would have never stood to lose against me, remember?

They’d be so close. Goro’s hair would dangle around them like a curtain, blocking out the light.

So now you feel sorry for me?

That’s not what I—

You disgust me, Goro would say.

Neither of them would move.

I’m not your tragedy, Goro would say. I made my choices.

And I’m making mine, Akira would reply. I’m choosing not to give up on you.

You can’t just wish me back to life, Akira. You can’t keep this up forever.

I can, Akira says stubbornly.

Aren’t you tired?

I’m not giving up on you, Goro, Akira would reply.

Goro would freeze.

When he finally pulls away, Akira would sit up, and Goro would finally let him, and then they’d have to sit there in the middle of the vague mess of Akira’s dorm together on the floor. Akira wouldn’t have let go of Goro’s arm, trying to keep him close in whatever way he can, afraid Goro will push him away if he touches his hands.

I never asked for that.

I know.

I’ve always done everything alone, Goro would say. Everything I’ve ever accomplished, I did myself. I don’t need your help. Or your pity. You think I can’t come back from the dead without you?

It’s not that I don’t believe in you, Akira would say. I just miss you.

I wouldn’t want that, Goro would say. The Akira Kurusu I knew wouldn’t let some rotten boy string him along for three years.

You’re not rotten—

The Akira Kurusu I knew, Goro would go on, as if Akira hadn’t spoken, would have told me to get my shit together and do better. The Akira Kurusu I knew wouldn’t have been afraid to let me go if he had to. If that’s not the Akira Kurusu you are—there’s no point in me coming back at all.

Akira would try to reach for his hand, then. Goro would pull away. Of course he would.

Well, Kurusu? Goro would say.

Instead of answering, Akira would ask, Did you mean it when you said it my fault that you died in the engine room?

Goro’s eyes would darken. That look he gets when he’s said the wrong thing, and he knows it. No, he’d say eventually.

Isn’t it?

I made my choices, Goro would say. And he’d lean in, press a soft kiss to Akira’s lips, one of a thousand others. He’d hold his lips there while Akira forgets to breathe, and just when Akira would remember to reach out and kiss back, Goro would pull away. Your fault is not being able to accept them.

I know, Akira would say.

Do you feel guilty?

I just miss you, Akira would reply.

OCTOBER, 2019

Sometimes Akira would think that Goro would come back, and there’d be no fanfare whatsoever. No explanation. No apologies. Akira would reintroduce him to the rest of the Phantom Thieves, who’d be a little wary of him, but ultimately come around. Life would resume as normal. Goro would be attending some other university, and Akira would visit him on weekends, pester him through text on the weekdays. Maybe they could video chat while Goro was studying on weeknights, just hours and hours of silent video footage of Goro not paying attention to Akira, and most of the time Akira not even paying attention to Goro, but just sharing time together.

They’d play board games, probably. Chess, but Akira thinks that Goro would be a terror at Monopoly, and would probably drive Makoto up the wall, so Akira would resolve to make them play together as soon as possible. He’s sure Goro would insist they play darts again. Maybe they’ll go to the arcade, too, if only because it’s funny to watch Goro wrinkle his nose at the greasy-palmed arcade controllers. They could watch movies together. They could walk into movie theaters wherever, without really caring about what they saw, and maybe they’d wind up with an entirely mediocre movie, that’d be entirely unenjoyable except for Goro’s running commentary tearing it apart under his breath.

Akira’s never been bored around Goro before, but he wants to see what it’d be like. What’s Goro like in the summer, when it’s hot as all hell and everyone’s in tank tops in front of a fan, grouchy and sweaty and bored because you can’t do anything without overheating? Does the perfect Detective Prince Goro Akechi even sweat? They could go out for ice cream with Ann and Ryuji, because Ann knows all the good ice cream places and Ryuji never passes up a chance for junk food in general. They could loiter on a public walkway somewhere, like the no-good lazy teens they’re supposed to be, until the security guards come by to tell them to move along.

Ah—Akira could make curry for Goro. He hasn’t made Leblanc’s curry in a long time because he’s usually busy with college, but he thinks he could still get the hang of it. They could all pile into Leblanc like they used to; whoever was abroad or too far away could video call in, maybe. Akira would be in the kitchen with Sojiro while Futaba did an unreasonable amount of backseat-driving from the bar for someone who hated to cook, and Akira would be able to hear Goro laughing over the sound of simmering curry and Yusuke’s monologue. Akira could serve curry to all his friends, and Yusuke would compliment him on his culinary skills and Futaba would tell him it’s not nearly as good as Sojiro’s and Goro would say that he agrees with Yusuke, and this is delicious, Akira, but in that sort of voice like he and Akira are sharing a secret in broad daylight.

After the party is mostly over and people have begun to trickle home, Akira would sweep up the snacks Ryuji spilled on the ground and walk Futaba down the street to where Sojiro’s already holed himself up behind the safety of his own house, away from the rowdy teenagers. When he comes back to Leblanc, he’d find the snack wrappers still not thrown away, the debris of better times scattered across the wood, and Goro still lingering at the bar, waiting for Akira.

Have fun? Goro would say.

Yeah, Akira would say. I’m a little tired, though, to be honest.

It’s getting late. Goro has a way of looking pointedly unimpressed even when doing mundane tasks, as he would just then, checking the orange sunset sky through the window for a guesstimate of the time. It’d be summer, and the days would be long; a setting sun could be as late as eight at night. I should go.

I don’t mind if you stay.

Goro would not respond.

After a moment, Akira would look down.

You’re not coming back, Akira would say.

Do you even think you could forgive me if I did?

I’d make myself forgive you.

I wouldn’t want that, Goro would say.

That’s what you do when you love someone, isn’t it? Forgive them even when you don’t want to?

Goro would sneer. Akira likes all the expressions Goro makes, but even he could admit this one in particular would be unpleasant. If you think that I’d want you to do that to yourself, I don’t want anything to do with your sorry excuse for love.

Without even a goodbye, much less any other reaction to the word love, Goro would turn sharp on his heel and reach for the Leblanc door. Wait! Akira would say, and he’d reach out and this time he’d catch Goro’s hand before he gets out the door, disappearing into the February air. This time, Goro wouldn’t pull away, wouldn’t even look irritated; he’d just give him that same shuttered expression of someone determined, long since blind to any other option. Wait. Goro. I… What am I supposed to do with this?

With what?

This…

And Akira goes silent, realizing he’s on the edge of saying something he means.

Say it, Akira, Goro says.

Akira’s throat locks.

Or are you going to turn into at coward at this late hour? But Goro’s voice would be fond when he says it, nothing like the biting, furious words from three years ago. The Akira Kurusu I know isn’t afraid to say what he has to.

What’s Akira supposed to do? How’s he supposed to explain this feeling? The certainty that he feels, that he’ll never really be able to forget Goro, and that Goro will just always be gone and Akira will just always miss him? How is that supposed to be bearable, if Goro is really gone for good?

I can’t let you go, Akira says.

Yes, you can.

You don’t know that.

I do, because I’d never expect anything less of you, says Goro. You can because your justice has people at the center of it. You’ll always do what’s right by people. You might not have what it takes to do whatever you have to, but—I think—you have what it takes to be kind.

Goro steps closer. He’s still one inch taller than Akira. In one hand, he squeezes Akira’s hand back; in his other, he pulls out the black glove from his pocket, and holds it out to Akira. Say what you have to. Tell me what you wanted me to know before I died, and then let this be over.

Akira still doesn’t know what Goro’s hands would feel like.

Or are you going to let me down now, Goro’s voice says, and leave without even saying what you came here to say?

Akira closes his eyes.

Well? says Goro’s voice. Akira?

You really want to know? Akira says.

When Akira looks back at him, Goro doesn’t smile. I do.

And Akira says:

NOVEMBER, 2019

“I’m going to be entirely honest with you,” Akira says. “I hate you.”

Goro looks a bit like Akira punched him in the face, which, in retrospect, maybe Akira should have done instead of giving him his glove back. But before he can say anything, Akira cuts him off, one of the few times he’s ever done so: “That glove in your hand means I can’t believe you spent two years in jail and you’re just as selfish as you’ve ever been. You haven’t changed at all. In fact, you’re still up your own ass over a demented sense of right and wrong that serves nobody but yourself.”

"Kurusu, I had to—"

“I’m talking right now,” Akira interrupts clearly. Goro shuts up, possibly more out of sheer surprise than anything else. "You wanted to hear what I have to say, so you’re going to hear it. You had the nerve to ask for more jail time, which does nothing—not a single thing—beyond make you feel better about what you’ve done and your demented commitment to so-called laws of justice. It didn’t fix your mistakes, didn’t bring anyone back, didn’t do anything, except assuage your own pride.”

Goro’s teeth visibly grit in his jaw. "Serving jail time was what the right thing to do—"

“And,” Akira goes on loudly, “I think you’re a self-righteous dick who’s still doing stupid bullshit like asking for more jail time over shit you couldn’t even prove, and claiming it’s in the right thing to do.”

“Neither one of us are above the law—”

“—And I spent a year as a Phantom Thief, Akechi, so you tell me how much I give a shit about the law. And I don’t think you give a shit about the law, either, because I think nothing else matters to you except what you want. It"s all about you and you prison sentence, your crimes at the center of the universe, your need to make up for what you’ve done, as if there"s nobody else who cares.”

Goro says, “Y—"

“And I especially hate how, so long as you’re satisfied that justice has been served, you don’t give a damn about the consequences, and don’t give a damn about anyone else,” Akira goes on. “Which means you’re no better than you were before we met in the engine room.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Are you quite done?” Goro says through his clenched teeth.

Akira thinks about this. “No,” says Akira.

“Kurus—"

Akira interrupts: “The Goro Akechi I knew wouldn’t have forgotten his promise. The person who I believed was my rival wouldn’t have fucked off for three years and ignored me. And my rival wouldn’t have left me without the rematch he promised me—when he promised me that he would be the one to defeat me—when he said that he refused to lose to me, under any circumstances. And if you want to know the truth,” Akira says quietly, “I’m won’t forgive you for playing dead for three years. I’ll never forgive you if you run off to some other country like a coward, instead of facing me like you promised. That’s what the glove means.” A moment of silence. “Now I’m done.”

Goro looks like he’s ready to kill him. Akira would love to see him fucking try.

“You truly are… a fascinating person,” says Goro curtly. Abruptly he laughs, in short, high bursts, unsteady and unstable. “God! You’re the most maddening human being I’ve ever met. It’s unbelievable that even now, you blithely believe too much in people who don’t deserve it. And if we’re being truly honest with each other, I’ve never stopped hating you since the day we met.”

“Then the feeling is mutual,” Akira says.

“Evidently,” Goro replies. He pulls himself up taller, lording his single inch of height over Akira like it means anything. “I suppose you think this means you’ve won our games once and for all.”

Akira smiles unpleasantly. “Only if you’re too much of a coward to follow through on our rematch. Or would you rather run off to some other country instead?”

Goro’s eyes narrow to slits. “You know I would never refuse a challenge from you.”

Akira holds out his hand. “Then stay.”

Goro’s fingers tighten on the single glove. For just a moment, he hesitates—he never would have hesitated before—like this is somehow a trick, and Akira isn’t really holding out his hand to him. I never gave up on you, Akira wants to say. I won’t let you go. And I won’t give up hope. But don’t make me wait any longer.

“You wanted a rematch. This is my challenge,” says Akira, when Goro doesn’t move. “Stay.”

Goro takes a breath, like he’s steeling himself to hope again. “Far be it from me to disappoint you again,” he says quietly. “I accept your challenge, Akira Kurusu.”

Goro’s palm is warm and dry. And for the first time in three years, Akira sees Goro smile.