Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Hello, this is Maruki Takuto speaking-”

“You piece of shit. What did you do to me?”

“I’m- I’m- I’m sorry!?”

“I know it was you! Where’s Joker? Did you send him back too?”

“J- Joker? Who is Joker?”

“…”

“Hello? Hello, who is this? H-”

*****

Goro watches the crowd as he tries to stay calm and not scream in the middle of one of Tokyo’s major railway stations.

A moment ago his heart was racing as he tried to get a visual on Joker before Goro died, or disappeared, or whatever it was that happened to people who were dead-but-not-quite. Goro lost consciousness before they could say goodbye.

There are no benches anywhere in Ueno Station, Goro discovers, wandering around trying to find a spot where he can freak out in peace while pretending to look at his phone.

It’s a cloudy, ugly afternoon outside. In a shopping area, people mind their own business, as if none of them has any memories of the previous timeline, which of course they don’t.

What does Maruki aim to accomplish by sending him back, if he was the one responsible for this shit?

If he doesn’t find a way to move forward in time, he’ll have to live this entire bullshit timeline all over again. Could he just take a train to the Diet Building and shoot Shido in the face, putting an early end to this nonsense?

Impossible. By 17-year-old Goro’s calculations, storming the ship successfully was unlikely in April all the way to July, when Goro had started hitting his training harder and harder to be ready by December.

What about shooting real-Shido? That would be even less likely unless Goro managed to do it in a public event in some small window of opportunity, since the paranoid asshole has an impenetrable apartment and surrounds himself with bodyguards and security screenings.

Goro will just have to pretend everything is normal and seize his opportunity in a few months in the Metaverse. Goro can do that. He can keep it together, go through the motions, walk back to Ueno Station right now and-

He holds on to a display rack full of purses on the sidewalk – could dizziness be a side effect of being dropkicked back in time? He tries to envision the number of people he’ll have to either kill or perform psychotic breakdowns on until he’s ready for the ship, reaching overwhelming double digits before his memory even makes it to July.

Old gray eyes pierce through Goro as the gift shop owner stares him down from the doorway. She's annoyed I’m touching her stuff, Goro reassures himself. She doesn’t know what I’ve done. She can’t read my thoughts.

Unmoving, she glares as he stumbles away, almost taking the rack with him.

It feels revolting, the notion of killing again. Goro rationalizes he’s now aware Shido has been using him all along, therefore killing for Shido once more would be abhorrent.

… He doesn’t want to kill. Goro cannot, will not kill. The one skill that ensured he was kept alive is out of his reach, left behind in a coffee shop a timeline away. If he stops now, though…

Goro can’t feel his legs as he floats forward, crossing a street without even thinking of checking for traffic.

Leave, then. He could leave the country. Dye his hair, grab all the money he’d hidden around town, buy a fake passport-

Goro laughs too loudly, uncaring when a couple nearby steps away from him. Escape is beyond the bounds of possibility – Shido would be sure to dispose of such a colossal loose thread in his operation. There’s no escape from the trap he unknowingly created for himself. Sending Goro back to the two-year point into his suicidal enterprise is pointless – the only way it’d make a difference is to go back to the start, or to the day his mother died, or to when she met Shido altogether.

There is no escape.

Goro looks down, surprised to notice he’s holding on to the railing of a bridge. Down down down below, a massive river flows south, an unstoppable force of nature strikingly destructive. For a long moment, his eyes take in the deluge as he wonders what could possibly survive a meeting with this river.

His body knows what it needs to do before Goro himself realizes how the puzzle pieces fit together. In only a moment, he’s standing on the railing, a hand holding on to a thick suspension cable. How curiously absurd, to be resurrected and sent back in time only to die in a river whose name he can’t recall, on a bridge he’s never been to, in a district of unknown location.

Behind him, thousands of steel machines speed away, uncaring or unable to stop him. Goro used to feel like this river: an unstoppable force devouring everything in its way. Until Joker came along and showed Goro he’s just a teenager that can die from something as dull as falling into a body of water.

“Akechi! Stop!”

The cry almost makes him lose balance. It’s Joker, because of course it is, running towards him. If Goro was feeling pretty okay so far with the prospect of jumping, suddenly his legs start shaking, a ball of nervous energy playing pinball in his stomach.

Perhaps because it’s a terrible notion to tackle someone standing on an edge, Akira stops just two meters away from him. He holds on to the railing as if he’s the one in danger of falling.

“Akechi, please!” he shouts, his wind-swept hair blowing all over, like a giant fan follows him around for dramatic effect. Goro wants to roll his eyes but can’t blink away from the sight of Akira being there. “We can talk about this!”

“Joker…”

“You don’t have to do this! We can work it out. We can defeat him together.” Akira raises his hand to him.

What a strange day, Goro thinks to himself. Have they not been in this position before, only for Goro to die as he was about to take Akira’s metaphorical hand? How strange indeed that Akira is both right and wrong at once: Shido can be defeated; just not by Goro. Because Goro is the problem, not the solution.

Being born has been a waste of time. Akechi Goro is a blip in time, an editing mistake in continuity, a tragedy that started and ended long before Saint Kurusu and The Apostles came along.

Would Akira remember him as the boy he couldn’t save? Maybe even as a friend he wished he’d met in different circumstances?

Goro looks down at the river.

What a joke. No one would remember Akechi Goro for long.

“It’s okay, Joker,” he says with a smile, not forced or fake or happy, but the only smile he knows to offer his one friend. “It’ll be okay. You’ve got this.”

Akira is the real unstoppable force, both the spear and the shield, the river that ends Goro’s suffering. He wants to tell him that; that Akira has given him the strength to change himself and also to die, that Akira is a paradox with the power to kill gods… But none of it will make any sense out of context, and it’d be a bother to come down just to explain.

It occurs to him this is a classic moment to tell someone you're in love with them. But what would Akira do with that information?

Goro doesn’t tell him. He doesn’t jump either. There’s no action to it. Goro’s body falls.

he falls and it’s awful awful awful one second is already endless and goro wants it to end knows it will end any second now joker on the bridge joker will it hurt mom please no end end end

Dying is darkness this time around, which is a surprise since the last two times Goro had felt nothing, thought nothing. Powerful warmth envelops him all over this time, cradles him lovingly (??), carrying his body through the dark. Goro feels like he’s weightless, thinks he might be going through some form of hallucination as his brain shuts down from lack of oxygen. A hallucination that… smells amazing; something a bit musky, a tiny bit arousing.

He can feel his hands grabbing something fluffy with hard parts but he can’t for the life (death?) of him figure out what it is. His journey through the void comes to a stop and Goro is placed on a surface, gravity back on his body as the fluffy/hard thing moves away.

Arsène looks down at him, his permanent grin deranged. He removes his arms from around Goro, somehow avoiding hurting him with sharp claws.

You are safe now, Black Bird, Arsène whispers in his mind, and Goro finally notices he’s been holding on quite forcefully to ebony wings.

The moment he lets go, Arsène is gone, leaving Goro to deal with the fact that, 1) Goro is alive, 2) Goro is in the Metaverse, and, somehow the most pressing order of business, 3) Kurusu Akira’s arms and legs are around him in an octopus hold.

For five stunning seconds, he feels Akira’s warm breath on his cheeks as they stare at each other, at least 80% of Akira’s body molding against his in the most intimate embrace Goro has experienced. That smell belongs to him – Goro had just never been this close before to detect it.

In a movement too fast for eyes, Akira untangles himself and sits on his knees, the perfect picture of a chastised child.

“Are you alright?” Akira asks, sounding worried and relieved and oddly out of breath.

They’re in an empty street in the Metaverse, the sky an impossible hue of red. “I’m unhurt,” he decides to answer before his silence is taken as discomfort. Goro finds he isn’t quite ready to sit himself up, staying lying down on the pavement while Akira stares at him intensely, fingers fidgeting.

And this… is yet another tactical mistake to add to his long list of failures. If their roles had been reversed, would Goro be quick-witted enough in the 20 seconds that conversation lasted?

Joker. How remarkably fast Joker is. So powerful. Skilled. He probably had to jump just before hitting the app – that’s how fast everything happened. No hesitation, no doubt – he just went for it.

“Clever, Joker,” he concedes, slowly getting up. “That was clever.”

Akira gets up with him, hands raising forward as if expecting Goro to collapse. “I wasn’t trying to be clever. I was just trying to save you. You could have-” he sounds annoyed but bites back what he was about to say. “You could have listened to me.”

Should Goro be feeling some sort of shock? Akira seems more agitated than him.

“You followed me from the station,” Goro states but it comes out as an accusation.

Akira has the nerve to scratch the back of his head in embarrassment. “I wanted to know if you remembered. I tried calling the others. They don’t…” he says, hurrying up to add when Goro merely stares at him, “It was just a coincidence. I happened to spot you when I was changing trains. This is the day I move here.”

The day Akira arrives in Tokyo. It’s beyond him at this point, why Goro keeps on thinking anything has to do with him when Akira is The Chosen One. Everything is always to do with Akira – his perspective, his life, his choices. Goro doesn’t understand how he can still be alive when apparently he’d been only put on this earth to be the nemesis, the stepping-stone for Akira to achieve glory.

“Are you that naive to brush this off as chance?” He says and needs to move, to have his body in motion before he goes mad with the nervous energy under his skin.

“Akechi, where are you going?”

“Go home, Akira.”

“Can you just-” Akira jumps in front of him, hands raised in a sign of peace, “not walk and stay for a moment, so we can talk?”

Goro sighs. There’s no getting rid of this boy. “Very well. Talk.”

Surprisingly, Akira points to his head and says in a small voice, “Your hair is a bit long…”

Goro grabs the tip of his hair before he can stop himself. “I- I think I’m supposed to have it trimmed this week?” Realizing he’s explaining himself, he immediately lets go, hoping his face isn’t turning as red as it felt. “I- You- What is it to you?”

Akira shrugs, unconsciously playing with his own hair. “Nothing. I’m just noticing it.”

“You-” Goro wants to scream. Knowing Akira notices something so small about him makes him itch all over. “Why? Why did you jump after me?”

Akira stares like Goro is the stupidest human. “Because I don’t want you to die?”

“I know it’s hard for you to understand this, but this timeline is better off If I'm out of the way. And t-”

“Why the hell would you think that?” Akira says, and Goro shuts up, surprised by both his aggressive tone and the fact Kurusu Akira just cursed. “You’re powerful, Crow. With you on our side, we can speed run this thing in half the time.”

“I don’t have half the time,” he explains. “I’m sorry, Akira, but you can’t have everything. It was pointless for you to do this. Either way, I’m dead in two weeks.”

Smart gray eyes shine with intense curiosity. “What happens in two weeks?” Comes the immediate reply, like the rest of his little speech didn’t even register.

Should he tell him? What was the point? “That’s none of your concern.”

Akira huffs at him. “You owe me, Akechi. Just tell me what’s going to happen.”

Excuse me? “I owe you, Joker? Are you out of your mind?”

“I saved you two minutes ago-”

“I didn’t ask you to-”

“It was fucking traumatizing!” Akira actually, honest to god, shouts. Goro takes a step back. “You just jumped, Goro. Right in front of me. Just now. While I begged you not to. Do you know how fucked up that is?”

Who is this emotional, angry boy yelling at him? Goro has never seen Joker this worked up. “Akira-”

“I thought you were gone! That beating Maruki meant you were dead for good, that I didn’t even get to say goodbye to you, and then I’m in that station and you’re there looking…” He looks at Goro up and down, settling for, “like you. And I think everything is finally going to be okay until you go and jump off a bridge…”

Goro raises his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry. What do you want me to say, Akira? This is something I need to do. If you want to say goodbye, we can do that now.”

He raises his hand just like the day they met, hoping Akira will remember, that this gesture will have meaning.

Shockingly, Akira swats his hand away. “No. Tell me what happens in two weeks.”

“Please, Akira…” He doesn’t mean to plead but Akira’s determined eyes are too much. “You’re just delaying the inevitable. Just… I’m not your problem. Go find your friends and focus on the mission. Forget about me.”

“That’s impossible!” Sounding a bit hysterical, Akira shakes his head emphatically. “That is literally… Akechi, why do you think Maruki brought you back to life? It wasn’t because I didn’t think about you every day, even before you died, and didn’t carry your stupid glove around in my pocket, and didn’t hang out in Kichijoji on the off chance you’d be there-”

Too much too much too much- “Okay, fine. I get it already!”

“Do you?” Gray eyes set him ablaze – Goro can feel his entire body burning. He won’t survive this conversation. “You say things could have been different if we’d met earlier. Well, this is earlier. We know everything that happens in the next 10 months. And we’re together. It’s irrational to kill yourself before exhausting all other possibilities.”

And with that critical blow, Akira crosses his arms, determined, tenacious. A true force of nature.

In a moment of temporary insanity, Goro wonders if Akira would blush if Goro pushed him against a wall and had his way with him. He actually considers doing it.

“He’ll have me killed in two weeks,” he says instead, enjoying the alarmed look on that handsome face. It’s annoying how good it feels to have Akira care about him. “It’s in my contract. I can put off crossing a name on his hit list but I need to cross one name at least every two weeks. In our timeline, I performed a psychotic breakdown on a train conductor two days ago that will have an effect tomorrow. Assuming this event has not been changed, I have two weeks from Monday to cross another name or he’ll add me to the list as well.”

After a long pause, Akira says the last thing he imagines, as usual. “I didn’t know you had a contract. That’s so formal.”

“Yes, well… It’s a service, isn’t it? Shido is a businessman.”

“You won’t kill anymore?” Akira asks, instead of demanding or offering his opinion on what he should do.

“I don’t feel like it,” he says with a shrug like that could begin to explain the complexity of his psyche. It feels weird to have Akira know his weakness, although Goro knows he wouldn’t use it against him.

“Two weeks then. Let’s do it.” And with that, Akira takes them back to the real Tokyo. Akechi blinks several times, not to adjust his eyes to the sunlight but to try to demonstrate a reaction to Akira’s bizarre statement.

Akira goes off in the direction of an empty playground, knowing Goro will follow him to hear the rest of it. “Kurusu, I know it’s probably hard to listen to reason over your inflated savior ego, but surely you can see that taking down Shido… What are you doing?”

“Strategizing,” he clarifies as if that explained why Akira is standing in a sandpit holding a long stick he grabbed from the ground. “Is he as strong now as in December?”

“No… But neither are we.”

Akira draws a few lines in the sand separated by the kanji for the days of the week.

“14 days from Monday. We’ll need a healer, a high magic hitter, and a heavy physical hitter. Ann and Ryuji were our best damage dealers – I’ll meet both of them on Monday and take them to Kamoshida’s Palace. Morgana is there too, so if everyone awakens their persona right away, we can finish the route on Tuesday, get his treasure on Wednesday, and hit Mementos by Thursday. Can you miss school?”

Akira looks up at him, all intensity and sharp eyes, and Goro can barely register his own reply. “Ah, I… yes.”

“Then you can fight in Mementos in the mornings with Morgana, make sure he gets heavy tier magic,” he determines, drawing it all in the sand with symbols.  “I might get in trouble if I miss school right now, but I’ll do it if it comes to it. I can sneak out at night and hit Mementos with whoever is not too exhausted.”

He keeps going until Goro can’t stay quiet anymore. “Akira, this is grinding-until-we-drop tactics.”

Akira shrugs, looking away. “It’s only two weeks. We can all rest after.”

“Exhaustion leads to mistakes and poor judgment. Will they agree to this? Keep in mind they don’t know you yet.”

“They will. They have to,” Akira decides, both determined and exhausted. “Aren’t you curious if we can pull this off?”

Goro looks at him – really looks at him, looks at the impressive amount of nonsense on the sand. And realizes he is.

If Goro can’t take Shido down, he can at least clear some of the path for Akira. Maybe even relieve Akira’s conscience that he tried everything under the sun to save Goro, so that, one day, he can finally understand Goro was beyond salvation.

“Niijima is better than Morgana,” he finally says. Akira is speechless for a good few seconds, before giving Goro a relieved smile.

“What are you saying about my Mona?” he teases.

“Oh, please. Only all of Niijima’s stats are higher, plus she has party defense buff. Make her ‘accidentally’ go into Kamoshida’s with the others.”

For the next two hours, they stand in the sandpit, drawing and redrawing plans, mapping out every step, every hour of every day. When they hit a block, one of them suggests a change and they go on tangents of what would happen if Okumura or Kitagawa were thrown into the mix.

Occasionally, people stop to stare at the intense high school boys in the playground preparing to invade Poland, but thankfully, there are no interruptions.

It’s… fun, strategizing with Joker. Even if the game is for Goro’s life.

“This looks…” Goro analyses the madness in the sand, “barely feasible. But it’s the best we’ve got, I suppose.”

Akira wipes his hands on his pants. “Meet me in Mementos tomorrow night. We can iron out the rest.”

“Very well,” he agrees, dusting off his clothes. “You should go now before Sakura-san is convinced you fled the country.”

“Crow, wait.”

Goro turns back to see Akira nervously watching him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. I am curious to see how far we can take this.” Goro gives him a small smile. “I guess… Thanks for doing this, Akira. I hope you’re right.”

He doesn’t sound encouraging, or nervous, or anything really, but Goro can at least follow through with his word, even he doesn’t believe any of it will work, even if-

“We can shoot him.”

Goro stops, already a few steps away. By the sandpit, Akira looks beyond determined, the lines on his face hard, his eyes dark.

“You have a gun, right? If it doesn’t work out in two weeks, we can get to his house through the Metaverse, shoot him in the real world, get out through the Metaverse again. If you can’t do it, I’ll do it for you.”

Having said that, Akira extends his hand for Goro to shake.

Goro gapes at the hand, honestly lost. So far, all strategies had revolved around changes of heart, but to have such a backup plan…

It’s a bit genius.

Akira is willing to shoot Shido for him.

This is the most Goro has ever liked someone.

Their handshake is phenomenal; it’s the stuff of movies where a gesture is so much more. Goro can swear he feels a thread looping around them, bringing them closer, because the next moment he tries to step away but moves forward instead.

There’s no hesitation in Akira’s arms around him, so Goro goes all in too, squeezing Akira’s shoulder with matching intensity. If not for earlier that day, Goro would not remember being held this tightly before.

Akira is bruising him. Goro loves it, hopes it’ll leave marks – a proof that Akira cares. Do human beings hug this intimately, this strongly? Surely not. Goro has never seen two people mold together so perfectly, in broad daylight nonetheless.

For the first time, Goro feels like they can actually do this.

They can do this.

Goro will live.

The sunset above them feels like a miracle by the time Akira lets him go, wiping away the water on Goro’s face that spills out of his eyes for some reason. Linking their arms together, Akira starts dragging him forward.

“C’mon. Boss will feed us. Maybe he’ll even like me more this time if I show up with Detective Prince, as seen on TV.”

Goro almost trips on his own feet trying to keep up with Akira. “How will you explain knowing me?”

Akira pulls him closer, a genuine smile on his face. “I’ll tell him we’re old friends.”

*****

Goro finds he doesn’t really mind this second timeline after all.