Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Shadow in Your Gaze

Akira had asked Ryuji about it once, and only received confusion in return.

“What?  Nah, man, Captain Kidd isn’t really around until I get in the Metaverse.  I can hear him in my head sometimes, though!”  Ryuji had grinned around a mouthful of ramen, and Akira raised his gaze to see Captain Kidd roaring with silent laughter and reaching down as if to ruffle Ryuji’s hair.

After that, Akira had tried to just observe.  Carmine never directly interacted with Ann, and neither did Zorro with Morgana.  They were present, and they definitely knew Akira could see them, but they never indicated as such to their counterparts.  They couldn’t make noise – seemingly just silent spectres – but sometimes they would move from position behind their user and wave at Akira, or smile, or laugh with him at a joke.

He chalked it up to some kind of Wildcard ability – there seemed to be a lot of things he could do that his friends couldn’t after all – and didn’t really talk about it.  His friends would probably believe him, but there honestly didn’t seem to be any use in sharing the information.

It gave him an insight into his teammates’ feelings as well.  Their Personas tended to emote freely, giving him clues on what to say.  He wasn’t sure how he would explain to them that he had a free read into their emotions – although it didn’t really matter since Ann and Ryuji rarely held anything back.

When Yusuke awoke his persona, Goemon, Akira was struck by how much more poised he seemed than Carmine, Zorro, or Captain Kidd.  Even outside the Metaverse, Goemon reflected Yusuke’s calm, slightly withdrawn personality.  There were times when Akira couldn’t really understand him, and Goemon was equally unreadable.  Still, he and Goemon got along well – and it was far easier to stifle his reactions to the less boisterous persona.

Two months of seeing personae around his friends, and Akira was getting remarkably good at masking any indication of his strange ability.  At this point it would be incredibly awkward to admit that he hadn’t mentioned it to them for so long, so he just didn’t.  He hadn’t seen personae attached to anyone else in Tokyo, and he supposed that made sense.

Until June 9^th.

The boy rounded the corner and introduced himself as Goro Akechi.  Akira couldn’t even process the conversation because his eyes were glued to the two personae behind Akechi’s shoulders.  One was beautifully colored in gold, blue, red, and white, standing straight with broad shoulders and an elaborate bow slung across its back.  The other was almost totally obscured.  It was layered in shadow so thick, that Akira could only make out flashes of gold, and the glowing red of its fanged smile.

Behind him, Arséne leaned forward over his shoulder, flames flicking upward from his own grin.

“Interesting, now who can that be?”  He murmured into Akira’s mind.  “Looks dangerous.”

Arséne sounded almost gleeful, and he left Akira’s shoulder to investigate the shadowy figure.  Normally, personae didn’t really see each other.  Akira hadn’t observed any of them directly interacting, and he once watched Carmine pass through Zorro without flinching or turning her gaze.  He had assumed that they were unaware of each other – with the exception of Arséne who could see through Akira’s eyes.

Suffice it to say that when the shadow met Arséne’s advance with a wicked, glowing grin and a casual – but clawed – swipe, Akira nearly gasped in shock.  Arséne dodged backwards, but was delighted and closed in again with a laugh.

“Oh, I like you.” He grinned.  “Your partner doesn’t seem nearly so aware, dark one.”

Indeed, Akira ripped his eyes away from the shadow to see that the gleaming persona had only reacted to look at its counterpart inquisitively, eyes sliding right through the space where Arséne floated.  Dimly, Akira realized that the conversation was drawing to an abrupt close as Akechi said something (what did pancakes have to do with anything?) and left.  His personae followed him, but at the last second, the shadow whipped out a clawed arm, and plucked a feather from Arséne’s wing.

Akira watched in shock as the shadow laughed silently and twirled the feather around, before violently biting through it with blood-red teeth.

Arséne sounded absolutely ecstatic.  “Oh, is that a challenge?  Perhaps we shall meet again then, shadow.  Au revoir.”

Oh my god, please don’t flirt with other personae.  We don’t even know this guy!

“Hmmm… not yet, mon Charpardeur, but we could.  And isn’t he just thrilling?”

Akira definitely couldn’t deny that, and Arséne’s flames burned brightly.  Akechi seemed like a puzzle – and a dangerous one.  God, this could be so risky, but Akira had always been an adrenaline junkie, and now he was itching to see Akechi again at tomorrow’s filming.

With Arséne cackling in his mind, he followed his friends to Dome Town.  He tried, unsuccessfully, to put the incident behind him for now.

-------

Akira couldn’t seem to unravel Goro Akechi in the months that followed.  He was addictive, challenging, and deeply untrustworthy.  In short, Akira was absolutely unsurprised to realize he definitely had a crush.  Arséne couldn’t even tease him about it, because every time they had an evening together – playing billiards or darts, drinking at Jazz Jin, or even just wandering around Kichijoji – Arséne practically fluffed up in excitement and started cackling madly.

Arséne continued to poke and prod at Akechi’s shadowy persona, delighting in every violent response, or teasing motion.  At some point, they seemed to settle on a high-stakes, silent game of tag. Whoever was caught had something stolen from them.  Arséne lost several more feathers, and a few wisps of flame (however that worked) to the shadow’s quick claws before he turned the tables and returned to Akira’s side with golden blood slicked on his hand. 

“A price well-payed.”  He had gloated to an exasperated Akira, closing his hand into a fist around the ichor.  “He has something of me, and I of him.”

It was extremely distracting, but luckily Akira had very little trouble focusing back in on Akechi, who effortlessly drew his attention.

The red and white persona seemed content to ignore the shadow’s strange behavior and stuck close to Akechi’s side.  Where Akechi was always unfailingly pleasant (except when Akira managed to wriggle behind his mask every so often), the persona simply seemed stoic.  Not quite like Yusuke’s in that it wasn’t just reserved, but rather it seemed analytical and restrained.  Refusing to emote, and preferring to catalogue every word and action.  It was definitely hiding much more behind its helmet, and Akechi was no different.

Akira found himself falling into almost the same routine as Arséne, although far more subtle and less violent.  He needled and poked and prodded and flattered and teased and joked and laughed and smiled and gave, until he got even the tiniest crack through Akechi’s near-permanent mask.  He felt like he was stealing something precious, just for himself, when he made Akechi downright cackle once.  The sound had been cracked and harsh, and Akechi had caught himself after with an apology, but Akira felt starstruck.

He had suddenly understood Arséne’s glee at stealing some of the shadow’s blood, as he replayed the sound over and over in his head.  Sure, Akira knew he was constantly giving away parts of himself in return, but anything was worth it to see Goro comfortable enough to laugh freely or – once – nearly snarl in anger before stifling it.

He recognized the enormous risk he was taking, Akechi definitely knew about the Metaverse, and had probably been traversing it for a while.  There was every possibility that he was extremely dangerous, and even malicious towards the Thieves, but a large part of Akira didn’t give a single shit. 

As the months passed, the Phantom Thieves recruited more members, and their reputations were fluctuating wildly.  To Akira’s mixed excitement and dread, Akechi seemed more and more like the most obvious person to be the Black Mask.  Akira could barely help himself; he couldn’t stop chasing that adrenaline rush, that need to challenge and provoke someone so intriguing and complicated.

Arséne was in resounding agreement.  He chased after Akechi’s shadow with delighted determination, and possibly some amount of cruel glee whenever he won a round.  While neither of them could see the shadow’s full form, Arséne had discovered claws, hooves, horns, and braided hair through their games.  In exchange, Arséne had lost bits and pieces as well.  Both personas always returned to normal eventually, but the stolen… goods… remained in possession of the successful thief.  Akira was just glad his pockets could hold all of Arséne’s ill-gotten ‘treasures’.

It wasn’t until President Okumura’s unexpected death that he got a real taste of how truly dangerous his new addiction could be.  While he dimly registered horror, regret, and sorrow for Haru, he mostly couldn’t wait to see Akechi again – and possibly chip at his mask enough to make him admit something incriminating.

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With the arrival of November, Akira watched with hidden joy as Akechi began to integrate himself into the Phantom Thieves.  Obviously, they were all suspicious of him, and they were developing a plan to avoid the trap he was luring them into, but still, it was so much fun.

Akira finally had a front-row seat to Akechi’s golden persona – Robin Hood – fighting with frightening competence and clearly still holding back.  Akechi was ruthless and incredible, and Akira had to catch himself more than once to keep from staring.  Even Akechi’s outfit – slightly ridiculous though it was – looked stupidly good on him.  It was a good thing Akira generally didn’t use Arséne, because the persona kept ruffling up his feathers and preening himself like a bird trying to impress a mate.  It was wildly embarrassing, but at least only Akira and the shadow had to see it (Akira was also studiously avoiding the way the shadow almost seemed charmed by the displays).

Sae’s palace itself was fun too.  Gambling, rigging the games, and risking his neck on a whim were all playing right into his adrenaline addiction.  He could admit – privately – that maybe he had used the arena fight to show off with a bit of flair specifically so Akechi would give him a guarded smile afterwards.

Oh god, he was just like Arséne.

His only regret was that the shadowed persona had yet to reveal more of itself.  There were still fleeting glimpses of features, and games with Arséne, but nothing more was forthcoming.  Akira knew his time with Akechi was running out – he wouldn’t be able to see him after the 20^th – and he couldn’t bear to leave the mystery of the shadow’s appearance unsolved.  He just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

He was just distracted enough by his predicament to be lost in his head while staring at Robin Hood cleanly firing an arrow through an enemy’s skull.  So much so, that he didn’t register the danger until he was hit.

The impact knocked him off of his feet and he yelped, hearing some startled shouts before his vision went dark.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2:  Sleep with Both Eyes Open

He woke slowly to find himself laid out on a couch.  The familiar, glaring colors of the casino greeted him as he squinted his eyes open, but he couldn’t hear any of the normal sounds of slot machines and conversation.  He tried to shift, and barely caught himself from tumbling right off of the couch.

“Careful, Magpie.  I wouldn’t want to return you damaged.”

The voice seemed to echo off the walls and seep into his ears.  It ran nails up his spine and lingered under his breastbone.  Startling, Akira sat up abruptly to meet the gaze of a familiar-unfamiliar figure.  They sat midair with one leg crossed luxuriously over the other, golden hooves gleaming and the red-black claws of a hand draping over their thigh.  Akira’s eyes were drawn up their form by the twisting stripes all along their body.  It was almost hypnotizing, and Akira had difficulty tearing away as his mind threatened to drift.  Once he caught sight of their face however, everything clicked.

A blood red, glowing grin met his eyes, and he knew exactly who this was.

“Oh?  I see you are sharp as always Magpie, I knew we liked you for a reason.”  Their voice once again rattled through Akira, and he swallowed as excitement and adrenaline roared up in its wake.  He corralled himself together, searching for an adequate response.

“Well, I knew we liked you for a reason as well.”  Akira grinned.  Arséne was going to be ecstatic to finally meet the shadowed persona after so long.  Only, when he reached for him, their bond was stretched thin, and Akira couldn’t communicate with him.  He furrowed his brow for a moment and paused.  “You wouldn’t happen to know how we got here, would you?”

The being shrugged their sharp shoulders carelessly.  “Some sort of curse.  You were clearly too busy ogling to notice it.”  They mocked with an undercurrent of smug satisfaction.

Akira blushed, but the shadow had known about his stupid crush for months now, so he didn’t bother deflecting.  “You have to admit, all of you are quite striking.”  He raised an eyebrow and winked.

“Careful, Joker, your obsession might slip out.”  Their mouth distorted, far too wide with too many teeth.  The impression of an unhinged smirk still came through, but Akira couldn’t quite determine musculature or shape to it.

“As much as I adore this game, I don’t have a name for you, gorgeous.”  Akira purposefully made the flirtation ridiculous, dramatically leaning forward and looking up through his lashes.  It almost came out too honest as he ran his eyes over their figure and realized how badly he wanted to run over and touch.  Out of curiosity of course.  Right.

He was rewarded with a crackling, jittering laugh.  It tumbled out of the being’s throat with all the grace of a rockslide, and underneath, Akira could hear the impression of the cackle he had once coaxed out of Akechi.

“You are playing with fire, little Magpie.”  They leaned forward and bared their teeth – half grin, and half threat display.  Unfortunately, Akira had discovered pretty quickly that he apparently had a thing for Akechi’s threats, so he just felt even more entranced.

“Strange name, Fire,” Akira parried, his own smirk distorting and crawling up his face, “you got pronouns to go with it?”

The being’s grating laugh was even louder this time.  It was almost alive, thrashing against the walls and filling the space in Akira’s lungs.  It clawed about in his brain and along his skin, raising goosebumps and trailing discomfort in its wake.  Wow, that was amazing.

“You are delightful, little Magpie.  Perhaps, I will keep you for myself and never return you.”  The being leaned forward even more, now easily within pouncing range, with their claws carelessly supporting their horned head.

Akira tried to ignore the rush that gave him, he really did, but he just knew they had noticed how much he liked that idea.  “Well, I’m sure Arséne won’t mind.  He does rather enjoy you, you know.”

“Oh, Magpie, how could I ignore his pathetic posturing?  He’s quite easy to pluck, all fluffed up like that.”  Loki’s voice, still resonating in Akira’s chest cavity, rose a bit until Akira could feel it in his sinuses and across his scalp.

“Mhmm, you did seem quite charmed.”  No way was Akira letting the persona win with that.   They had been practically circling Arséne with interest.

“Almost as much as you were when the Princeling dismembered that shadow earlier.”

“Touché.”  Akira allowed.  Akechi had looked divine while covered in blood and committing extreme violence.  “So, is that a no on learning your name?”

Their grin seemed permanent at this point, and somehow stretched even wider, almost grotesque.  “What do I get in return?”

It could be dangerous, entering an open-ended deal like this, but Akira was caught in the rush and decided fuck it.  He had been dancing through knives this whole semester, why not cut himself a bit more.  “What would you like?”

“You.”

The answer was immediate and short, the being’s voice curling around the word affectionately and settling in Akira’s chest like a weight and a balloon.  He definitely wasn’t averse to the suggestion.  After all, it would be equivalent to being Akechi’s, which… yes.  Apparently, Akira’s mouth wasn’t done making decisions for him, because before he could even ask questions or terms, he said:

“Done.”

The persona almost looked shocked, pausing for a moment before cocking their head.  Their braids slid to the side with the motion, still suspended against gravity, but also twisting slightly as if alive.  Akira noted with some interest that a good number of feathers were braided into the locks.  Were those… Arséne’s?  Holy shit that was kind of adorable.

Suddenly, they righted themselves in the air and lurched forward, face nearly touching Akira’s.  Their stance shifted to imply a consuming delight that Akira could feel through his bones as they tilted their head the other direction and purred, “Interesting.  Even though you know what is to occur next week?”

Akira couldn’t help the blush that ran up his cheeks again.  Both he and Arséne had quietly realized that the threat of murder wasn’t a turn-off at all.  The cleverness involved, the competition, the thrill of the chase – even if it all led to a literal dead end and he lost, Akira couldn’t bring himself to mind.  Fuck, he was almost looking forward to it.

Adrenaline was a hell of a drug.

The shadow looked even more gleeful, “Oh no, you like it, don’t you sweet Magpie?  You and your bird are positively twisted.  What a revelation.”  The words hissed and rumbled out of the being’s mouth, curling gently but powerfully between Akira’s ribs, stretching and contorting almost pleasantly.  Akira steeled himself.  No going back: now or ever. 

“Take it or leave it.”  He breathed out.

They looked satisfied at his resolve, and nodded.  “The deal is struck, Magpie.  You’re mine now.  Forever.”

Akira shuddered pleasantly at the last word, adrenaline tingling through his limbs and rushing in his veins.  His head was almost swimming at the proximity, but all he could think was that he wanted more.  He leaned in, only a hairsbreadth from the being’s face.  “Name?”

“I have many, my Magpie,” they began, and Akira’s eyes slid a little closed at the possessive phrase, “I am of many forms and many beings, but little Crow knows me as Loki.”

“A pleasure to be yours then, Loki.”  Akira’s eyes fluttered shut and he dropped his forehead against Loki’s, resting between their horns.

As if ignited by the contact, Loki shifted forward.  To Akira’s eyes, it looked as if they rapidly changed through several shapes, but that may have just been the dizzying motion of their stripes.  Suddenly, Akira’s legs were swept up and Loki resettled him across their lap.

A laugh burst from Akira’s lips.  “Eager, are we?”  His arms instinctively rose up around Loki’s shoulders.

“I will not be letting you go, my Magpie, selfishness is in my nature.”  Now with direct contact, the rumble and screech of Loki’s words reverberated directly through Akira’s skin, skittering in his veins, and numbing his fingers pleasantly.  The teasing had dropped somewhat from their tone, and he could parse a note of sincerity – sounding remarkably like Akechi’s voice.

He brought a hand up and touched at braids that fluttered around the contact.  “Well, I’ll have you know that the fine print of possession means that you’re mine as well.  Selfishness runs both ways, Loki.”  A grumbling vibration shuddered through his diaphragm, and Akira sat confused for a moment until he realized that Loki was purring.  Not figuratively this time, but actually purring like a cat.  He grinned and continued toying with their braids, hoping to eke out more of that noise.

“Hmmm, perhaps I shall have all of you, and you all of us.”

Akira’s smile stretched wider.  “I suppose Akechi might be a bit miffed that he wasn’t part of this conversation, then.”  God, he hoped that Akechi got mad enough to swear.  He had heard it once and it was so fun.

Loki interrupted their purr for a moment to gleefully cackle, “A soul cannot deny itself, little Magpie.  Just as you and your bird share your desires, I carry his as well – as much as he attempts to suppress them.”

Elation fuzzed up in Akira’s chest, and he unintentionally scratched at the back of Loki’s neck as he suppressed the urge to leap up and do a flip or something in excitement.  Loki’s purr picked back up even louder at the motion, which was – wow.  As if in response, every muscle in Akira’s body instantly relaxed.

“Hmmrn.  What do you think about a little more underhanded negotiation then?”  Akira vaguely gestured with his free hand, fighting the sudden warm drowsiness.  His eyes went half lidded, but he endeavored to stay aware until he could see if this worked.  Loki was resoundingly unhelpful, as they brought one clawed hand to tease lightly along Akira’s spine.  The sensation was practically euphoric.  It tugged at his focus, tempting his mind to drift.

“Oh, didn’t you and your barely-competent companions have a plan of your own?”  Their teasing tone returned in full force, clearly catching his intent.

Akira stifled a laugh.  He shouldn’t find Loki’s apparent disdain for his friends humorous, but it was funny imagining Akechi constantly repressing his ire in favor of that gratingly positive mask he wore.  He composed himself and continued.  “Perhaps, but why not cooperate?  We are, after all, beholden to each other now.”  Akira persuaded, resuming his ministrations against Loki’s head and neck.

“You are underestimating our desire to win against you.  Forever ours in life and especially in death.  What a savory end.”  Loki’s voice had become dark, almost roiling into Akira’s brain, and frolicking about behind his eyes hypnotically.  A pleasant shiver ran through him, but he still forced out.

“On another’s terms?”

Loki seemed to stall momentarily.  Their grin twitched higher – not exactly in glee this time, more like violent spite.  “You know more than you should.  How interesting.”

Akira latched onto this advantage with everything he had.  “I would only lose to you if you were actually fighting me.  Let’s not cheapen the game.”

Loki tilted their head, meeting Akira’s eyes and clutching him closer with the hand across his thighs.  “My, my what a little manipulator.  You are entirely too delicious my Magpie.”

Akira found it within himself to smirk.  Vengeance was something he was very familiar with at this point – it was kind of his job now – and he just knew he had caught a whiff of it from Akechi and his shadow.  “What do you think?  Can we convince Akechi to delay our competition until your mysterious ‘employer’ is disposed of?”

“A bloodthirsty little Magpie.  You would kill for us?”

“Sure, murder would be the merciful option.  I imagine you weren’t planning on ending it so cleanly.”

Loki looked utterly delighted, leaning down to nuzzle into the crown of Akira’s head, and nip at his curls.  “Oh, you are irresistible.  I think it would be most fun to double-cross the bastard, and scrape him through the mud with our own Magpie crowing in our ear.  Yes, lovely, I think we have a deal.”

“You sure are easy to convince.  Don’t tell me you’re gullible.”  Akira teased.

“Oh?  Well perhaps this is still playing into my desires, Magpie.”

Akira let Loki’s voice shudder through him again before smiling and raising a hand to cup their angular chin.  “In that case, how about we both let our plans continue, unimpeded, see who the victor is – nonlethally for now – then destroy ‘the bastard’ together.”

They huffed a laugh and ran their serrated teeth along Akira’s palm.  “Magpie, this may be the most fun I will ever have.”  Their purr juttered back to life, and Akira relaxed fully this time, leaning contently into Loki’s embrace.  He still managed to smirk and snark, “A pleasure doing business with you.”

Loki cackled again.  They held Akira tight against them, then shifted to lay luxuriously along the couch.  He nestled into their arms, and they returned to running gentle claws up and down his spine.  “Stay still now, Magpie.  I want you all to myself before I have to share you.”

The shivering, dulcet tones of their voice lulled at Akira until he simply lay hazily, chest-to-chest with his new partner in crime.

He wasn’t sure how long they cuddled, sometimes making idle jabs at each other, but mostly silent – just drinking each moment in.  He had almost fallen asleep when the peculiar sensation of his bond with Arséne suddenly activated, like they were no longer separate or distant.  He stiffened for a moment, confused, before Loki resettled him with firm claws around his back.  “Hush little Magpie, it seems that proximity has broken the ailment.”

Akira furrowed his brow.  Proximity?

His confusion was quickly quelled when he heard the snarling sound of Akechi mixed with the crackling of Arséne’s voice getting closer.  He wasn’t sure how that was possible, though.  A cursory glance around the room had revealed no door, and he hadn’t seen any indication of false walls.

A clatter jolted him fully awake, and he twisted around in Loki’s arms – now pressed back to chest – to see a vent cover in the roof had crashed noisily to ground.  They wound their arms more comfortably around him and tucked him under their chin just as a white and red figure dropped into the room.  Akechi’s back was still to Akira and Loki, but he was followed closely by the flash of Arséne’s black feathers.

“I know we’re getting close, where the fuck are they.”  Akechi snarled.  From over his shoulder, Arséne looked delighted at Akechi’s coarseness – a feeling very much shared with Akira who tried to lever himself upright, only to be pulled back down by Loki.

“I suggest, notre Corbeau, that you examine the entire room.”  Arséne’s fire crackled merrily.  Clearly, he’d been poking at Akechi for some time, because the detective immediately bristled and snapped, “Fuck you.”

Loki chose that moment to speak up, “Found us, have you, little Crow?”

Akechi whirled around in a flash of red.  “What have you been doing!?  I can’t find that shitty clown car of a team anywhere -!”  He cut himself off, an extremely attractive blush rising to his face as he took in their position.

“Oh, mon Charpardeur, I’m jealous!  Hello, beautiful.”  Arséne purred, floating up into the air, flames circling higher and teasing his horns as he immediately began flirting.

Akira attempted to piece together some explanation or response, but before he could do more than open his mouth, Loki rolled over to lie partially on top of him, possessively crushing him closer to their chest.  “Oh, you know, making deals.  Collecting.”  With obvious intent, Loki purred again, dropping Akira back into his relaxed stupor for a moment.  Through his now-closed eyes, Akira heard Arséne make an excited little chirp sound that he was utterly unfamiliar with.

Akechi sputtered amusingly for a moment, but Loki promptly interrupted.  “Oh yes, he’s ours now.  And of course, equal exchange was implied.”  They purred deeply to complement the satisfaction in their words.  At this point, Arséne was apparently ecstatic because the chirp turned into a trill and he cackled in turn.

“I’m yours, beautiful?  How delightful, I’ve been trying to catch you for so long.”

“Hmmm, you have been quite amusing, birdie.”

“What the absolute Hell are you two talking about!?”  Akechi’s voice cracked halfway through, clearly thrown.  Akira managed to slit an eye open and was met with the sight of the two personae inches apart as Akechi stared on, mouth agape.

As entertaining as this was, Akechi was owed an explanation, so Akira lethargically raised his free arm and tugged at Loki’s nearest horn.  “Lemme talk, asshole.”  He slurred out, fighting off the daze of their purr as best he could.

“What do I get in return?”  Loki asked innocently, parroting their question from earlier.  Akira shot a one-eyed glare at them for their cheek and opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as Loki intensified the rumbling.  Immediately, Akira’s muscles unwound again, and he relaxed into the sofa cushions, still partially crushed under Loki’s bulk.  His hand slid off their horn and he only managed to respond with an incoherent, “Mmrf.”

“Loki!!”  Akechi’s shout stalled their purr into a low grumble.  “What the Fuck!?”

Brought back to awareness, Akira was shocked to find what sounded almost like concern in Akechi’s tone, and he opened his eyes fully to see his face.  Akechi definitely looked concerned.  Panicked even.  Well, Akira was currently cuddling with the secret manifestation of soul, so maybe that was it.  Taking the opportunity to be coherent, Akira stretched out an arm and forced himself to focus.

“’S fine, ‘s fine.  I’ve known for a while.”  Akira propped an elbow under himself, pushing Loki partially upright as well.  “They’ve been interacting for months.”  He continued, flapping his other arm in the personae’s general direction.  They were preoccupied with staring intensely at each other again.  His elbow gave out and he flopped back down with a groan.

Arséne, thankfully, picked up where he left off.  “Your magnificent shadow and I have been courting for hmmmm…. Five months?”  Okay, what!?

“Courting!?”  He and Akechi asked in loud unison.  Arséne looked unbearably smug, but Loki was radiating indignance.

“Excuse you, birdie.  I have been remaining aloof.”

“Oh yes, so aloof as you go out of your way to preen my feathers every time we see each other.”

“I was very clearly stealing them with ill intent.”

“And tucking them into your braids I see.  So nefarious, dear.”

“Indeed, you have no guarantee I won’t ensorcell you with them.”

“To what end when I’m already enchanted?”

“Those were Arséne’s feathers!?”  Akechi interrupted their teasing incredulously.  Akira was too busy suppressing laughter at how ridiculous the two personae were when they could actually talk to each other.

Clearly taking a deep breath to steady himself, Akechi glared at Loki.  “How the hell have you two been… courting,” at this he sounded strangled, and Akira couldn’t blame him, “for months anyway?  We’ve only been in Sae’s palace for a few weeks.”

“I’ll tell you if you agree to tell me more about your employer.”  Akira spoke up from his position still squished into the couch.  He was pretty sure his voice was a little breathy, but whatever – Loki was heavy.

“You told him!?”  The betrayal in Akechi’s tone lashed out, biting and broken.  Akira winced and opened his mouth to intervene, but Loki chuckled.

“Little Crow, they already knew!  How delightful, no?”

“And here I was trying not to give the game away.”  Arséne pouted – or gave an approximation by dimming his flames for a moment.  “What sort of deal did you strike, mon Charpardeur?”  His grin returned.

With their connection restored, Akira was able to just think about his discussion with Loki in order for Arséne understand it, which was great because talking was rapidly becoming difficult with the striped persona still laying on him.

Loki must have done the same, because Akechi narrowed his eyes.  Akira was extremely pleased to note that he looked a little red from whatever Loki had shared of their conversation.  “Interesting proposition…”  He began, bringing a hand to his chin.  There was lingering suspicion there, but also what Akira was daring to call a pleased look.

Arséne interrupted his observation by trilling out a laugh and spinning to yank Akechi to his chest.

“Wha-!?  Put me down!”

“Notre Corbeau, I truly look forward to winning the game!  What a lovely partnership.”

“If I could call Robin right now, I’d kill you!”  Akechi snarled, clawing at the arms around his waist.

“Oh, promises, promises, amour.”

Arséne punctuated his words by bringing his wings around Akechi’s shoulders and nuzzling into his hair.  He nearly disappeared into the soft feathers with a muffled noise.  Akira almost felt jealous, but Loki took the opportunity to sit upright and pull him back into their lap.  The motion startled him for a moment, but he relaxed again when settled.

“Come now, birdie, don’t ruffle our Crow’s feathers.”  They purred, absolutely encouraging further ruffling of said feathers.  Akira was now sat between their legs, their arms wrapped possessively around his middle as they bit lightly at his hair and ears.  Akechi was still cursing up a muffled storm (which was extremely fun), but there was a conversation he wanted to be having.

“Arséne, please stop antagonizing Akechi.”  He sighed.

“Hmmmmm.  No.”

“I am going to rip you both to fucking shreds.”

Loki guttered out a hypnotizing laugh, and it travelled all the way down Akira’s spine, but he refused to be pacified.  “Arséne, Loki, I swear to all that is holy – stop getting distracted.”  He drew his Joker Voice – as Futaba had dubbed it – to the fore and leaned a little away from Loki’s chest for impact.

“You’re not going anywhere, my Magpie.”  Loki growled, tightening their grip.  It would have been threatening if Akira was actually at all intimidated by Loki’s… anything… anymore.  Instead, he just sighed – trying to maintain his focus despite how much he wanted to just stay cuddling.  “Yes, okay, fine.  We still should talk.”

Arséne gave Akechi one last affectionate nuzzle before he plopped down to sit on the floor in front of Akira and Loki, mirroring them with Akechi – who let out a disgruntled ‘rggh’ sound – in his lap.  At the very least, he drew his wings back so they could talk – even though neither persona seemed at all inclined to let go.  Whatever, Akira would take what he could get.

“Okay, your employer?”  Akira started when it seemed like Akechi was going to resort to extreme violence to escape Arséne’s hold.

“You first.”  Akechi snapped with a glower.

Fine, whatever.  It’s not like Akira was particularly guarded about his abilities – he just hadn’t mentioned this one because it gave him an advantage.  If revealing it brought him and Akechi closer, he would do it in a second.

“I can see peoples’ personae outside of the Metaverse.”

Akechi looked completely caught off-guard for a moment, then narrowed his eyes.  “Explain.”

Apparently, he was very much in a demanding mood, which was way more fun to talk with than his Detective Prince wide-eyed-innocence act.  Akira complied.

“When I awoke Arséne, I was able to see personae in the real world.  They kind of… hover right behind their users, and only really exist as ghostly… spectres?”  He tilted his head, a little unsure how to explain everything.  “Arséne can see other personae because I can, but I’d never met another persona who could do that until Loki.”

“So, you’ve known who I am since what… June?  And you’ve just been pretending this whole time?”  Akechi visibly bristled a bit.

“Nah, I only figured out for sure that you were Black Mask when we tapped your phone.”  He smirked when Akechi seemed both a little relieved that he hadn’t been woefully outmatched since the beginning and deeply affronted at their gall.  Before he could interrupt with whatever colorful expletive he was preparing, Akira continued.  “I knew you’d been to the Metaverse and had two personae from the beginning, but I couldn’t figure out your motive until we heard a phone-call with your employer.  I know how you sound when you’re just stringing someone along, Akechi.”

Akechi considered for a moment, hand on his chin.  “And now you want to help me ruin him.”  He looked up sharply, meeting Akira’s eyes dead-on.  “I don’t need the bastard to be a sniveling mess.  I want him to be feel the full force of my betrayal.  I want him to watch and despair as I rip away everything he ever valued and destroy it before his eyes.”  An unhinged smile was creeping across his face – and Akira could only think fondly of how reminiscent it was of Loki’s.  The persona in question had started combing their claws idly through Akira’s hair, and he felt his muscles relaxing pleasantly as shivers ran down his neck and sank into his spine.

“Well?  I assume you’ve already either found his shadow or his palace.”  Akira said.  “We don’t have to change his heart, but we do have to know who he is.”  It struck him as amusing how often he was plying for names today.

The glint in Akechi’s eyes became teasing – which definitely didn’t cause Akira to nearly swoon – and he smirked.  “What do I get in return?”  Just like Loki.

“Oh my god, you two are insufferable.”  Akira groaned, a smile playing about his lips even as he dropped his face into his palm – exasperated.  Loki shook with violent laughter, jostling him.  Before Akira could insist – and possibly make another unwise bargain – they were interrupted by chattering voices filtering through the vent that Akechi had dropped through. 

With a grimace of annoyance, Akechi extricated himself from Arséne and stood up.  “Ugh, your sycophants have arrived.”

“I think you mean our sycophants, partner.”  Akira grinned, patting Loki’s arm and getting them to begrudgingly let go so he could stand as well.

“Absolutely not.  Keep your disgusting friends to yourself.”

“Uh-huh.  Who exactly was having an extremely spirited discussion about Featherman the other day?”

“Kurusu, I will enjoy putting a bullet through your skull.”

Akira blew him a mocking kiss with a wink just to see him torn between blushing and affronted fury.  Arséne had allowed Akechi to stand, but was still hovering possessively right behind him, so Akira reached upwards to try and resettle his persona within his mask.  Akechi was making a similar motion – probably to hide Loki before the Thieves arrived.

Except.

What?

What?

Eyes wide, Akira locked eyes with Akechi, seeing his own shock reflected in red irises.

“Kurusu.  Why do I have access to your persona?”

Akira could only blink and shake his head, bewildered.  He ran through his inventory, mentally feeling where Loki’s mask now nestled among his other personae.  It was thrilling – satisfying to the possessiveness curled up under his breastbone – but Akira wasn’t sure what it meant.

He didn’t have time to ponder anymore because Futaba’s voice echoed through the vent.  “Found ‘em!”  Wordlessly, but with a glance that clearly demanded that they talk about this later, Akechi hurriedly collected Loki, and Akira Arséne.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

Chapter Text

You Made a Deal (With My Heart’s Desire)

Goro woke all at once.  His eyes snapped open, and he bolted to his feet with a snarl on his lips.  The Metaverse was still swimming tellingly all around him, so he must have been knocked down – or perhaps it was a status effect.  He drew his serrated sword angrily and prepared to attack with vicious intent.

But stopped in surprise.

There were no enemies around him that could have caused the black-out.  In fact, there was no one around at all – the small room he was in was seemingly isolated.  With a start, he remembered that he had actually been wandering around this stupid palace with the Phantom Thieves just moments ago, and he looked down in panic at his black, clawed gauntlets.

Shit.

He rushed to swap Loki out with Robin.  He might be alone for now, but he couldn’t risk someone seeing him in this outfit.  However, reaching for either persona was apparently useless.  The connection to Loki was stretched thin, like a great distance had spawned between them, and Robin Hood was only a muffled presence in his mind.  He was able to at least change into his Prince outfit, but the persona himself was not responding.

With aggression, he whipped around to scan the rest of the room for any clues as to what the fuck was happening.

“Aw, bring the Black Mask back, lovely.  It has a certain je ne sais quoi.”

Goro nearly jumped straight into the air, he startled so badly.  Floating just above him and to the left, a red-suited, black-winged persona was looking at him through fiery eyes.

What the fuck.

“Who the Hell are you!?”  He hissed, pulling out his gun and training it on the being.

“Oh, cute ~ and here I thought we’d be waiting until next week!”  Whatever the fuck that meant.  The persona fluffed up its wings as it laughed.  “Mon Charpardeur doesn’t really use me in battle these days,” it almost seemed to pout dramatically (how the hell), “but you can call me Arséne, notre Corbeau.”  With a flourish, the persona swept down to ground level and bowed over Goro’s raised hand, kissing the sight of his laser gun affectionately.  “An absolute pleasure to meet you at last.”

Goro’s brain completely stalled for a moment.

And another.

And then several things lined up.

What the actual flaming FUCK!?

“You’re Joker’s persona!?”  Goro gaped.  This was way too much.  First of all, how the fuck?  Second of all, why the fuck?

“Why of course ~ pronouns are he/him, by the by.”  Arséne was still leaning into Goro’s personal space, running clawed fingers along the back of his white-gloved hand.  With a start, Goro yanked himself backward, and forced himself to lower his gun – if Arséne talked to Akira about this, he shouldn’t make them suspicious of his intentions.  Still, he couldn’t help but growl, “Didn’t ask.”

Arséne just laughed.  It sounded hypnotically like a campfire crackling, then rose into the roar of a wildfire.  “Notre corbeau, you are so much more fun without the others around!”

Goro scowled, and was only met with the snapping of more laughter from the persona.

“Look, can you be useful?  How the fuck did we get here, and why?”  He bit out, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  From his dim link with Robin, he could hear the persona gently reprimand him.

Careful, that makes you look defensive.  Open your stance to imply you have the upper hand.

Honestly, Robin was a life-saver for public appearances.  Right now, though, the correction was less helpful and more annoying.  He could feel Robin shrug in acceptance, then fade a bit back into his consciousness.  It was unnervingly similar to how it felt to communicate with his personae outside the Metaverse.

Still, he relaxed his stance and moved his hands back to his sides, hovering over his weapons just in case.  Arséne appeared to be considering his question, sitting on thin air with one leg crossed over the other.  He tilted his head to the side, and Goro noted that his flames followed the movement rather than licking straight up into the air as they should.

“I believe it was the fault of mon Charpardeur,” he mused (fucking typical, of course it was Akira’s damn fault), “he became distracted,” the persona flicked an amused glance to Goro. “and was hit with an attack.  I am unsure what exactly the effect was.”

“Well, obviously it led to… this somehow.”  Goro sighed, trying to reign his Prince-personality back into place.  Nevermind that Akira had already seen him forget to be civil multiple times now (asshole).  “If you’re with me, what does that mean for Joker?”

Arséne ‘hmmm’d for a moment before he smirked.  “Well, I suppose something must have been traded back.”

Shit.

Shit.

Loki was probably with Akira then.  If Goro wasn’t raising suspicion before, he definitely was now.  Fuck.  He only hoped that Loki did their best to deceive Akira and didn’t bring up anything about Goro or the upcoming betrayal.

Of course, when had he ever been that fortunate in his entire life.  He was so screwed.

He was startled out of his sinking dread when Arséne drifted a little bit closer – taking a step forward in his strangely blade-heeled boots.  (Goro was absolutely not considering Akira in thigh-high leather boots, that would just be stupid.)

“How about I give you something in return?”  The persona quipped, words almost lilting beneath the crackling flames.

“In return for what?”  Goro asked suspiciously.  Why was Akira’s persona offering an exchange – and what even were the terms?

Arséne didn’t respond, instead spreading his wings in an annoyingly gorgeous display.  With one clawed hand, he plucked a single jet-black feather and twirled it between two of his fingers.  Then he leaned forward suddenly, arm outstretched.  Goro froze in shock, allowing Arséne to tuck the soft feather behind his ear.

What the fuck?

Goro yanked the feather out and stared at it.  It was longer than his forearm (why that dumbass persona thought it would even stay behind his ear for longer than two seconds was beyond him.  Typical Akira bullshit), and the underside reflected rainbows like an oil-slick.  Something niggled at the back of his mind, like he recognized the colors or texture from somewhere.  Strange.

“What is this for?”

Arséne tilted his head a bit, then chuckled – to Goro, it felt more like smoke wafting past his face than an actual sound.  When the persona actually deigned to respond, he was frustratingly unclear, “If you don’t already know, then who am I to give up the game so easily?”

Game?  Just what game exactly was Arséne referring to?  There was the (Earth-shatteringly terrible) possibility that Akira already knew about Goro’s plan coming next week, but that wouldn’t make any sense.  If he knew, why was his persona… like this?  Why the hell would Arséne not be hostile or at least suspicious?

Wait, didn’t the persona mention something about ‘waiting until next week’ just a minute ago?  When Goro had instinctively pointed his gun at him.  Fuck.  Akira definitely knew.  Maybe not everything, but enough for his persona to expect Goro to shoot him.

Then why the fuck was Arséne acting…. Well, for lack of a better word – flirty!?  It didn’t make any sense.  Shit, his whole plan could be falling apart around his ears.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.  Okay, it might be possible to salvage this, but he’d have to be careful.  Akira already knew too much, and Goro had to focus on getting to Loki (who was liable to either kill Akira on the spot or do something else impulsive) and – and –

Could he even win back Akira’s trust at this point?

Fuck, he had to compartmentalize.  First, get to Akira and Loki, then he could run damage control.

“Notre corbeau, loathe as I am to interrupt your introspection, I do believe I have found our escape point.”

Goro snapped his head up, suddenly realizing that he had habitually fallen into his ‘thinking pose’ as Sakura had dubbed it (asshole), with one hand to his chin, and the other crossed at his midsection.  Great, now he couldn’t even manage to be subtle.

Arséne was clearly waiting for Goro’s response.  He was leaned leisurely up against nothing, with one arm outstretched to indicate a medium-sized vent in the ceiling.  Given the lack of doors or windows, it probably was the only way to leave.

And at this point, Goro was perfectly happy to have a way to distract Arséne from drawing any more conclusions about his behavior.

“Thank you, Arséne.”  Goro pulled his Prince persona more fully around him like a cloak – resolutely ignoring the way Arséne tilted his head like he knew Goro was hiding himself.  “I am unsure how to get up there, however.”

None of the furniture in the room would get him high enough to catch the edge of the vent, and he was loathe to try and jump the extra distance.  Without his personae to act as a boost, he likely would miss and injure himself.

“Not to worry, I am thrilled to lend my assistance.”

Before Goro could ask what he meant, Arséne had already swooped down to wrap his arms around Goro’s waist.  The contact was hot – almost like sitting too close to a raging fire – but still somehow… comfortable?  He wanted to protest on principal, but Arséne had already lifted him to the proper height in order to grasp at the edge.

“Ah, please give me a little warning next time.”  Goro gritted out, struggling with his self-control for a moment.

Arséne just cackled at him – obviously enjoying his discomfort.  This close, the crackling and snapping of Arséne’s voice resonated in Goro’s bones.  Like there was a fire flickering inside him.  Okay, enough of this.

With little effort, Goro swung himself up and into the vent, intending to both escape Arséne’s grasp, and maybe make some progress to finding Loki.  Except.

The persona’s arms were still around his middle.  Glancing behind him, Goro realized that Arséne had become intangible in order to keep… hugging Goro in the vent.

“Let go of me.”  His tone was just barely edging the line between polite and rude.

“Hmmm, maybe if you ask correctly.”  The persona teased.  The warmth and contact were just about driving Goro insane at this point.  He hadn’t been this close to… anyone (besides Loki and Robin) for nearly a decade now, and his brain was apparently unable to process it.

He had to get away now.

“Get the fuck off of me.”  He could feel his lips pull away from his teeth in a snarl, and he tensed his muscles, prepared to claw his way out if he had to.

Perhaps Arséne understood the threat, because he pulled away, still lingering at the edge of Goro’s vision – incorporeal.  It was a victory of sorts, and that made Goro smirk just slightly.  “I thought you wanted me to ask nicely?”

“No, corbeau, I said correctly.”  Arséne looked perfectly at ease, and still hovered too close to be acceptable.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?”

The persona’s answering hum filtered strangely in the vent, before he responded.  “No need for false masks with us.”

Which, in light of the distinct possibility that Akira knew, was extremely ominous.

He needed to get to Loki as fast as possible.

-------

Nearly twenty minutes later, Goro was seconds away from committing homicide.

This vent system was a maze for some goddamn reason.  Instead of sensible paths to filter and pump air, there were winding junctions and twisted routes that seemed to loop back on themselves instead of getting anywhere.

Goro had been able to use his extremely-faint connection to Loki as an infuriating game of hot-and-cold, at least.  Unfortunately, while he sometimes got closer, the vents always seemed to turn and push him farther away.  There was little he could do besides try and keep a mental map of his path.

Every once in a while, he’d stumble across a new room, but there were never any occupants.  Not even shadows patrolled the area, leaving Goro with nothing to fight either, which was even worse because he was bored.

At this point, he’d settle for finding any of the Thieves just to help him navigate.  Okay, actually, only Sakura would be of any help, and he was liable to maim anyone else.

Arséne was distinctly not helping.  The persona sometimes suggested routes to take, but was obviously just as lost as Goro was.  It was so annoying, Goro had snapped and told Arséne to just shut the fuck up – which only made matters worse, because Arséne was perfectly happy to communicate in other ways.

The now-maliciously-compliant persona would tug at Goro’s hair tenderly, or hold him around his waist to direct him to a possible path.  It wasn’t strictly awful, but Goro could barely handle all of the contact.  He’d begun slapping Arséne away and swearing at him – which only made the infuriating being even more affectionate.  Goro couldn’t even summon Robin to obliterate the asshole.

When his connection with Loki pinged stronger – just on the cusp of reconnecting – he quickened his pace, practically itching to get the hell out of these godforsaken vents.  There was a straightaway that went on for far too long, then Goro gasped when he felt Loki return to him – though not physically yet.

Goro kicked out the next grate he saw, jumping through and landing in…

Was every goddamn room empty in this fucking place!?

“I know we’re getting close, where the fuck are they.”  Goro snarled.  Arséne returned to corporeality, facing him with something like glee in his burning expression.

“I suggest, notre Corbeau, that you examine the entire room.”  Arséne’s fire crackled again, and Goro’s fucking bones felt overwarm.

“Fuck you.”

“Found us, have you, little Crow?”

Goro spun on his heel, eyes searching for his dumbass persona.  “What have you been doing!?  I can’t find that shitty clown car of a team anywhere -!”  And then he realized what exactly Loki had apparently been up to.

They were cuddled up with Akira, who was comfortably ensconced in their arms – and currently staring at him with something Goro didn’t recognize in his eyes.

It was… doing something to him.  He’d never considered Loki to be anything but terrifying to others.  They tended to give off a dangerous aura that sent shadows and enemies alike cowering.  But here was Akira, perfectly at ease turning his back to Loki’s serrated teeth and sharp claws.  He even looked drowsy, like Goro’s loud entrance had woken him up or something.

“Oh, mon Charpardeur, I’m jealous!  Hello, beautiful.”  Arséne suddenly floated up and around Goro, his fire stretching higher and circling his horns.

Goro tried to make sense of why the fuck Arséne was reacting like that to Loki, but Goro’s traitorous agent of chaos chose that moment to draw all the attention to themselves.

“Oh, you know, making deals.  Collecting.”  Loki purred – like, literally purred, which wasn’t a sound that Goro had ever heard before.  What the fuck was going on?

Then, something happened with Akira, because he went completely limp, and his eyes slid closed.  Goro was beginning to panic, when he distantly heard Arséne make a very strange happy little chirp sound.  This was rapidly spiraling out of control.

Goro tried unsuccessfully to ask any of the many questions sizzling in his brain, but he couldn’t get out more than a momentary sputter of nonsense before he was interrupted.

“Oh yes, he’s ours now.  And of course, equal exchange was implied.”  Their purred kicked up again, and something in Goro’s chest started scrabbling and keening about ‘ours’ and ‘equal exchange’, but the rest of him couldn’t seem to keep up with anything going on.

Arséne obviously wasn’t having the same issue, because his grossly happy chirp turned into a trill that Goro had only ever heard from songbirds.  “I’m yours, beautiful?  How delightful, I’ve been trying to catch you for so long.”

Loki leaned forward, Arséne mirroring the motion until they were barely a handsbreadth apart, and they kept getting closer.  What did any of this mean?  Catch him?  For so long, what – ?

“Hmmm, you have been quite amusing, birdie.”

“What the absolute Hell are you two talking about!?”  Goro finally managed to say anything, and he couldn’t even be embarrassed about his stupid voice cracking.  He couldn’t tear his eyes away from where both personae were practically touching (and how would that even work – Goro had never seen two personae physically touch).

The limp movement of Akira raising and arm to tug weakly on Loki’s horn made him refocus on the other – clearly compromised – human in the room, and he watched as Akira fumbled his way around his words.  “Lemme talk, asshole.”  He slurred out, blinking in a scarily dazed way.

“What do I get in return?”  Loki asked, innocence practically oozing out of every word.  Akira, rightfully, glowered at the persona – obviously intending to respond – but apparently lost his breath midway through, letting out a stifled “Mmrf.”  At this distance, Goro could barely hear Loki’s purr, but he wasn’t an idiot.  They were affecting Akira somehow, and… that wasn’t right.  Akira should never be manipulated like that.

Not even by him.

(Robin Hood notably kept his silence, but the word hypocrite was still implied).

This wasn’t right.

“Loki!!  What the Fuck!?”  He hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but it got the job done.  Loki stopped the noise, and lifted a hairsbreadth away from Akira.  It was something, at least.  He wasn’t sure what expression was on his face, but Akira looked vaguely puzzled for a second, and stretched out an arm.

“’S fine, ‘s fine.  I’ve known for a while.”  Akira managed.  What?  What was he talking about?  He propped himself up, shoving Loki along with him.  “They’ve been interacting for months.”  He continued, gesturing limply with his hand towards the personae (who were still staring at each other, what the fuck). 

Akira was apparently done saying his piece, because he dropped back down onto the sofa with a groan.  Arséne cut in.

“Your magnificent shadow and I have been courting for hmmmm…. Five months?”  Okay, what!? 

Magnificent!?

“Courting!?”  He and Akira shouted simultaneously.  Arséne’s fire leapt smugly, but Loki frowned in indignance.  Goro could physically feel his brain grinding to a halt.  This was too much.

“Excuse you, birdie.  I have been remaining aloof.”

“Oh yes, so aloof as you go out of your way to preen my feathers every time we see each other.”

“I was very clearly stealing them with ill intent.”

“And tucking them into your braids I see.  So nefarious, dear.”

Wait.

“Indeed, you have no guarantee I won’t ensorcell you with them.”

Wait, wait, wait.

“To what end when I’m already enchanted?”

What?

“Those were Arséne’s feathers!?”  Goro nearly squawked, thinking incredulously of the long feather Arséne had… gifted him earlier – still stored in his jacket.  He took a moment to breathe, and then attempted to glare at his persona.  He needed answers and he needed them now.  “How the hell have you two been… courting,” he growled out with some effort, “for months anyway?  We’ve only been in Sae’s palace for a few weeks.”

He'd never been able to force answers out of Loki before, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get something sensible now.

“I’ll tell you if you agree to tell me more about your employer.”  Akira responded instead, and Goro stalled.

How?  How could he know!?  It was one thing to have some suspicion about Goro’s motives – or even to expect the betrayal – but this was… too much.

With effort Goro tried to pull himself together, there was only one culprit he could think of, and given how close they were sitting with Akira right now…  No, he didn’t want to think about it.  It couldn’t be possible

“You told him!?”  Goro spat out the accusation, trying desperately not to feel like he was being torn in half.  If Loki shared that piece of vital information, then did that mean that some part of Goro wanted Akira to know?  And why –

Loki interrupted with a chuckle. 

“Little Crow, they already knew!  How delightful, no?”

They?  Ah, Arséne, of course.  That was why the persona had referenced ‘next week’, and been so insistent that Goro be abrasive and rude.  If Arséne already knew… so much, then the prince mask would be especially grating (it certainly made Goro want to shoot himself some days).

“And here I was trying not to give the game away.”  Arséne dimmed – almost like he was trying to pout again.  And doing a terrible job of it.  Goro added silently.  Then his swirling resumed, and his flames brightened and crackled.  “What sort of deal did you strike, mon Charpardeur?”

Ah, fabulous, silent communication was apparently back.  Loki was able to press the deal into Goro’s mind, and he prepared himself for what was sure to be a disaster.

“So, is that a no on learning your name?”

“What do I get in return?”

“What would you like?”

“You.”

“Done.”

“Interesting.  Even though you know what is to occur next week?”

A blush.

“Oh no, you like it, don’t you sweet Magpie?  You and your bird are positively twisted.  What a revelation.”

“Take it or leave it.”

“The deal is struck, Magpie.  You’re mine now.  Forever.”

“Name?”

“I have many, my Magpie, I am of many forms and many beings, but little Crow knows me as Loki.”

“A pleasure to be yours then, Loki.”

Contact.  A laugh.

“Eager, are we?”

“I will not be letting you go, my Magpie, selfishness is in my nature.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that the fine print of possession means that you’re mine as well.  Selfishness runs both ways, Loki.”

“Hmmm, perhaps I shall have all of you, and you all of us.”

“I suppose Akechi might be a bit miffed that he wasn’t part of this conversation, then.”

“A soul cannot deny itself, little Magpie.  Just as you and your bird share your desires, I carry his as well – as much as he attempts to suppress them.”

“Hmmrn.  What do you think about a little more underhanded negotiation then?”

“Oh, didn’t you and your barely-competent companions have a plan of your own?”

“Perhaps, but why not cooperate?  We are, after all, beholden to each other now.”

“You are underestimating our desire to win against you.  Forever ours in life and especially in death.  What a savory end.”

“On another’s terms?”

“You know more than you should.  How interesting.”

“I would only lose to you if you were actually fighting me.  Let’s not cheapen the game.”

“My, my what a little manipulator.  You are entirely too delicious my Magpie.”

“What do you think?  Can we convince Akechi to delay our competition until your mysterious ‘employer’ is disposed of?”

“A bloodthirsty little Magpie.  You would kill for us?”

“Sure, murder would be the merciful option.  I imagine you weren’t planning on ending it so cleanly.”

“Oh, you are irresistible.  I think it would be most fun to double-cross the bastard, and scrape him through the mud with our own Magpie crowing in our ear.  Yes, lovely, I think we have a deal.”

“You sure are easy to convince.  Don’t tell me you’re gullible.”

“Oh?  Well perhaps this is still playing into my desires, Magpie.”

“In that case, how about we both let our plans continue, unimpeded, see who the victor is – nonlethally for now – then destroy ‘the bastard’ together.”

“Magpie, this may be the most fun I will ever have.”

Oh, that was.  That was…

Wow.  Theirs?  Akira and Arséne were theirs?  Akira wanted him?  And… holy shit.  Akira wanted him.  Not the Detective Prince, not the Pleasant Boy, Akira wanted Loki.  All of his sharp teeth and broken edges.  His cruelty and spite.

Akira wanted a murderer.  And he didn’t shy away from it.

Goro had to focus hard in order to drag his mind away from… that and actually consider the deal Loki and Akira had struck.  The other deal – not the one that made his suppressed possessive instinct feel aflame with satisfaction and want.  Ugh.

Akira had a plan to defeat Goro, Goro had a plan to defeat Akira.  They would both carry out their roles until the last second, then they could determine who had won their high-stakes competition.

It was… enticing to say the least.  All of the excitement, with none of the gut-wrenching fear and uncertainty (not that Goro had been conflicted over killing Akira.  Definitely not.  Shut up, Robin).  He could win, and actually lord it over Akira, instead of leaving behind an empty body and losing everything again.

Would he actually get to keep Akira?  Could he have this, after everything?

God, of course Akira had some genius plan up his sleeve.  Why was he so fucking perfect.

(And mine, he’s perfect and mine.)

Shit.  He’d been silent for too long, scrambling for something to say, Goro clutched at his composure and began, “Interesting proposition…”

A trill interrupted his train of thought, and suddenly, burning arms looped around him.  There was no time for Goro to struggle or escape before Arséne had already lifted him into the air and clutched him close.

Goddamnit, that fucking –

“Wha-!?  Put me down!”  Goro thrashed and hissed, rebelling against the way that the tense muscles in his back relaxed into Arséne’s warmth.

“Notre Corbeau, I truly look forward to winning the game!  What a lovely partnership.”  Arséne crooned – the sound rushed like wind through a forest, and was punctuated by rising flames.

“If I could call Robin right now, I’d kill you!” Goro kicked and clawed, trying to convince Arséne to put him the fuck down before his brain started to eat itself at all the contact.

“Oh, promises, promises, amour.”

Fucking insane.  Akira must be wholly unhinged, because rather than put him down, or any other rational option, Arséne curled his wings up and over them both, fully enveloping Goro in soft warmth.  The persona’s fire tickled at his scalp, and Goro realized he was being fucking nuzzled.  Piece of shit.  He tried to move an arm to shove Arséne’s face away, but found he couldn’t do much while… swaddled by Arséne’s stupid feathers.

Vaguely, Goro could make out Loki saying something mocking – the traitor – but everything was muffled behind the veil of Arséne’s wings.

“Get the fuck off of me! You stupid, sentimental piece of shit!”  Goro tried, snapping his teeth at Arséne, since kicking and shoving didn’t seem to be doing much.  His mistake again, because the freak just looked delighted.

The sound of Akira’s voice was slightly muffled, but Goro could make out; “Arséne, please stop antagonizing Akechi.”

“Hmmmmm.  No.”

Asshole.

“I am going to rip you both to fucking shreds.”  Goro renewed his struggles.  He now deeply regretted being in his Prince attire, because he didn’t even have claws to scrape at Arséne’s eyes with.  Though that might just delight the being even more, given his track record.

A typically distorted laugh from Loki, and Akira had apparently had enough.  His tone deepened and darkened in the way that always sent shivers down Goro’s spine.  “Arséne, Loki, I swear to all that is holy – stop getting distracted.”

At this, Goro could barely make out some kind of response from Loki, but he was thoroughly side-tracked as Arséne leaned in to nuzzle at his head again.  Any hopes of being allowed to leave the being’s embrace were dashed when Arséne dropped startlingly fast to sit in front of Akira and Loki.  His arms were still wrapped around Goro’s waist, forcing him to land in Arséne’s lap.

Thank Christ, the persona at least drew his wings back, and Goro stifled the urge to spit in case he had feather bits in his mouth.  He still growled at Arséne for the unceremonious landing, to which the persona just held him tighter – distractingly warm against his back.

“Okay, your employer?”  Akira asked, drawing Goro away from lingering plans to tear Arséne’s wings from his stupid back.

“You first.”  Goro bit out.  If Akira wanted to hold all of the cards here, then he could play his hand first as well.

“I can see peoples’ personae outside of the Metaverse.”

That was not even remotely what he had been expecting.  What the fuck?  “Explain.”

Thankfully, Akira was in a sharing mood.  Which was enough of a rarity that Goro would have latched onto every word regardless of how important the conversation was.  Now, it just served as extra incentive.

“When I awoke Arséne, I was able to see personae in the real world.  They kind of… hover right behind their users, and only really exist as ghostly… spectres?”  He tilted his head to the side and paused.  “Arséne can see other personae because I can, but I’d never met another persona who could do that until Loki.”

Goro’s mind was racing.  This was groundbreaking news, and had insane implications for not only how the Phantom Thieves operated, but also for the nature of the Metaverse as a whole.  More importantly, though, it meant that Akira had known the whole time.  Had been able to see through almost every lie and misdirection, and hadn’t said anything.  Were all of their games and interactions just.. misdirection?  Fuck, and here Goro had actually gotten hopeful for a second there.  He shoved down his disappointment with ruthlessness.

“So, you’ve known who I am since what… June?  And you’ve just been pretending this whole time?”  Goro felt himself bristling, and barely even noticed when Arséne tightened his hold, warmth rearing up like a comforting hearth.

“Nah, I only figured out for sure that you were Black Mask when we tapped your phone.”  Akira smirked infuriatingly, but even more annoying was the way that Goro felt the weight of uncertainty lift off of his shoulders.  He had been planning to betray Akira, so why had he felt so… hurt, when Akira might have been doing the same?  And now he was relieved?  For what – just because now he knew that everything between them remained as genuine as it had always been?  Yes, Robin Hood whispered.  Fuck.

This was ridiculous.

And really, tapping his phone?  That just seemed… unnecessary.  It must have been Sakura; she and Akira were the only two competent enough to come up with a plan like that.  Except perhaps Okumura, but he’d expect her to err away from technology and more towards subterfuge.

 “I knew you’d been to the Metaverse and had two personae from the beginning, but I couldn’t figure out your motive until we heard a phone-call with your employer.  I know how you sound when you’re just stringing someone along, Akechi.”  Akira continued, interrupting Goro’s musing.

It was… admittedly extremely flattering to know that Akira had been paying such close attention to him.  Close enough to see straight through the mask he wore when speaking with Shido.  And there was a certain appeal (now emphasized by Loki) to taking down Shido with Akira’s help.  Goro was becoming sorely tempted to throw his initial plans out the window.

Fucking sentimentality.

“And now you want to help me ruin him.”  He made his gaze sharp and stared into Akira’s eyes.  “I don’t need the bastard to be a sniveling mess.  I want him to be feel the full force of my betrayal.  I want him to watch and despair as I rip away everything he ever valued and destroy it before his eyes.”  Goro could feel the grin crawling up his face, but he didn’t suppress it.  He knew how it looked: cracked, broken, insane.  He’d trained that expression off of himself for months, but now he wanted to see if Akira was as good as his word.

Did he really want this?  Want him?  Broken and bloody and clinging to life by the shackles of his revenge?  It might have been satisfying to see Akira afraid and running, but even more satisfying was the answering smile and affectionate gaze that Goro received instead.

He was so fucked.

“Well?  I assume you’ve already either found his shadow or his palace.”  Akira said.  “We don’t have to change his heart, but we do have to know who he is.”

Interesting.  Goro grinned even wider as a similar line of questioning rose in his recent memories from Loki.  If Akira wasn’t going to run, then Goro wasn’t going to hide.  He allowed himself to tease.

 “What do I get in return?”

Akira, of course, caught on instantly.  “Oh my god, you two are insufferable.”  Akira groaned theatrically, though a smile was creeping onto his lips even as he dropped his face into his palm.    Loki, always thrilled when Goro harnessed his chaotic side, burst out in cackling, violent laughter.

Akira looked like he was on the verge of insisting, when there was suddenly noise from the vent above them.  Goddamnit, leave it to the fucking Phantom Thieves to interrupt just when things were getting fun.  Goro made to stand, almost surprised when Arséne allowed it and then followed to hover behind his shoulder.

“Ugh, your sycophants have arrived.”

“I think you mean our sycophants, partner.”  Akira thought he was fucking hilarious.  Goro glared at him when he also stood from his position, with Loki trailing after.  “Absolutely not.  Keep your disgusting friends to yourself.”

“Uh-huh.  Who exactly was having an extremely spirited discussion about Featherman the other day?”

That was completely unrelated!  Sakura’s opinions were just wrong, and he was obviously duty bound to correct her.

“Kurusu, I will enjoy putting a bullet through your skull.”

Akira proved himself to be just as insane as his dumbass persona, because he winked and blew him a mocking kiss.  Bastard.  Goro could feel the blood rushing to his face, and resolutely did not stutter.  He instead growled threateningly.  Definitely.

Loud shuffling from the vent made Goro raise a hand to his mask in order to conceal Loki once more.  Whatever the effect was seemed to have worn off, because Robin Hood was also present enough to summon.

Strangely, there was something… different in his connection with his personae.

It was like his chest was too full, or maybe the status ailment was lingering.  It wasn’t until he focused on their connection and felt his bones glow with wildfire-warmth that he recognized the sensation and realized what was going on.

Holy shit.

Holy shit, what!?

Goro turned to see Akira apparently making the same realization.

“Kurusu.  Why do I have access to your persona?”  He hissed.

Akira just shook his head, eyes wide and bewildered.  When Goro reached out in his mind, he could feel Arséne reaching back – natural as anything – and he realized he only had seconds to compose himself.

He messily yanked a pleasant expression on his face just as Sakura’s voice echoed through the vent.  “Found ‘em!” 

Goro tried to wordlessly impress upon Akira that they had to talk about this later.  When the other looked to be in emphatic agreement, Goro hurriedly collected Loki, and Akira did the same with Arséne.

As the Thieves reached the vent and Goro caught sight of Sakura’s boots, he desperately scrambled for his control.

What the fuck was going on!?

Chapter Text

Looking into Your Eyes (But Are They Yours?)

November 20^th

Goro was alert for anything as he strode swiftly down the hall in the station.  Akira had promised not to give up without a fight, but so far, Goro hadn’t detected a hitch in his plan.  It either meant that Akira was being extremely subtle, or had yet to enact his own strategy.

Given his rival, Goro wasn’t about to rule out any possibilities.

His musings were interrupted by the click of high heels approaching him, and he looked up to see Sae Nijima striding in his direction, eyes narrowed.  When she registered his presence, her eyes widened, and she quickened her pace to meet him.

Lovely.  He’d rather hoped that Sae would be long gone by the time he made it here, but there was nothing to worry about, he had prepared for every eventuality.

“Akechi!?  Why are you here…?”

“Why do you seem so surprised?”  Goro fought down irritation and impatience (he was so damn close to winning) to smile pleasantly at her.

Sae frowned in displeasure.  “I needed my director to step in to get access, and I was directly responsible for this case,” she sounded utterly infuriated.  At least it was entertaining.  “How did you get approval?”

Ah, who was he to refuse himself the opportunity to… taunt a bit.  “For the same reason you did.  I am heading up the investigation team, after all.”  Goro purposefully made uncomfortably direct eye contact, “It’s only natural I’d have the right to interrogate our culprit as well, don’t you think?”  He smiled wider, just to be unnerving.

Sae didn’t disappoint.  Her mouth opened in shock, and she gasped.  “They assigned you command…!?”

Loki was doing their strange cackle-growl in his head, and Goro had to restrain his own snicker.  In the corner of his mind, Arséne flickered dimly, but Goro purposefully ignored anything from that direction (he and Akira had agreed not to swap personae around until after their game reached its climax – to prevent cheating).

“… That was a joke of course.  I’m merely here to assist with the public security interrogation.”  Goro lightened his tone from cruel to simply teasing at a prompt from an exasperated Robin.  It had been… difficult lately to keep up the mask of civility.  Especially since Akira lit up at him whenever he slipped.

Bringing a hand to his chin, he decided to push a little for information.  It never hurt to know what he’d face down there.  “I am surprised it’s this far underground though… there aren’t any others incarcerated here, yes?”  He asked, already knowing the answer.  Really, he needed her response.  Just a small shove more.  “Nobody would ever know if things got a little… violent.”

Sae’s eyes became narrow again, her look calculating.  But the real indicator was the way she shifted uncomfortably.  Hmm.

That wasn’t a particularly great sign, and something in his chest that felt like Loki clenched in possessive rage.  If anyone was going to defeat Akira, it should be him, not some dipshit thug hired by Shido.  Maybe he should use those personnel lists he stole for some… extracurricular Metaverse excursions.

“If I remember correctly,” Sae said ponderously, a hand on her briefcase, “didn’t you say there was another culprit besides the Phantom Thieves?”

That was most definitely probing.  To some extent, she obviously suspected him of something.  Perhaps that he was affiliated with the ‘other party’?  Perhaps Akira had granted her a hint?  But he wouldn’t give up the game so easily.  Goro fought not to glower.

Instead, he shook his head lightly.  “That was but a lie I spread to set them up.”  And if she already suspected him, he could play a bit.  “Oh, I’m sorry!  I forgot that I had deceived you too Sae-san.”  He smiled sweetly.  “After all, if you wish to trick your enemies, you must first trick your allies.”  If she was smart, she’d pick up on the inherent ambiguity there, but nothing she could do would prove it.

“So it was you…”

Oh?  Did she figure it out?

“You’re the one who sold out the Phantom Thieves.”

She did.  Goro had already explicitly said that he’d betrayed them, so that tone of realization could only be due to his other role.  Interesting.  Something in the back of his mind laser-focused on that – because Akira must have given her something in that case.

And if he was conspiring with her that much, then she must be part of his plan.  The one that Goro, infuriatingly, still hadn’t figured out.

“Is there a problem?”  Goro asked, just to get the conversation moving.  He was starting to become impatient.

Sae suddenly reached into her pocket and pulled out what was clearly Akira’s phone.

(The idiot had put a gaudy Phantom Thieves sticker on it three days ago, snickering at Goro’s deeply incredulous look – and there was still a shred of it on the corner of the case from where Goro had messily ripped it off and called Akira a goddamn fool.)

“Akechi-kun… does this phone look familiar to you?”

Yes, obviously.

“Hm?  Excuse me?”  He tried lightly, suddenly feeling a bit dizzy and confused.  He couldn’t figure out why she would offer it now, and it irked him.

Was this part of Akira’s plan?  How the hell could this possibly factor in?

For now, he just needed Sae to leave.  He could try to puzzle out what the fuck Akira thought this would accomplish when there was more time.  Tilting his head in confusion, he played clueless.  “What is this phone?”

“It belonged to the leader of the Phantom Thieves.  I believe you’ll need it for your investigation.”

Goro was sorely tempted to take the phone – just because then he could throw it in Akira’s face along with his victory – but he restrained himself.  Accepting it might lead to suspicion from more dangerous sources (such as Shido), and that was something he couldn’t afford.

Yet.

So, he made sure his pleasant mask remained firmly in place and shook his head gently.  “Not personally.  I was acting alongside the Phantom Thieves themselves, remember?”

Sae barely reacted, as if she was going through the motions of their conversation about as much as he was at this point.  “True.  This is undoubtedly a great accomplishment.  Good luck in there, Akechi-kun.”  She strode past him with her usual efficiency, and when the door shut behind her, Goro didn’t turn to watch her go.

But he cocked his head curiously.

During that interaction, he’d felt a bit… strange, and he wished he had time to truly investigate why (not in the least because Akira might have had a sneaky hand in it).  However, there were still cameras in this hallway, and he had to remain composed, lest Shido figure him out too early.

So, with a haughty shake of his head and a light scoff, he made his way to the elevator down and waited until the doors closed to try and pinpoint the unnatural feeling.  Was it nerves?  Excitement for his pending victory?

He felt lighter on his feet, and barring the strange momentary disorientation, there hadn’t seemed to be anything else of note, so perhaps it was simply adrenaline making him antsy.

The doors slid open, and he straightened – out of time to consider further options.  So far, he still couldn’t make heads or tails of whatever plan Akira had been smirking about for the last week, and at this point he was almost expecting to walk into an empty interrogation room because his rival had escaped hours ago.

It would be typical of him.

Still, he had to ensure that the first steps remained just as Shido had intended, so he approached the guard with a pleasant, but nervous smile.

“May I ask that you accompany me?  Going in unarmed to interrogate a murderer makes me uncomfortable…”

The man nodded, and Goro took note that his shoes had water stains on them.  Odd, when the rest of his uniform was perfectly pressed.

It took them a few moments to enter the room, and it took Goro less than that to register several facts.  First, Akira was slumped over the table, covered in bruises, and with his white turtleneck hanging damp from his shoulders.  Second, there were several syringes on the floor – empty, but Goro wasn’t an idiot, and he was certain that Akira had injection marks on him somewhere.  Third, there was a puddle of water on the ground – likely it had been ice-water used to rouse Akira.  Arséne was weak to ice, he dimly recalled, and Akira tended to be similarly uncomfortable in low temperatures.

The guard’s shoes had water marks on them.  Relatively fresh.

Suddenly, he felt almost gleeful about his next move.

With exactly zero hesitation, and Loki’s cruel-furious voice in his head (ours ours ours, he hurt what is ours), Goro snatched the guard’s gun, screwed on the silencer from his pocket, and shot the man right through the heart.

A clear kill-shot, especially obvious when he fell with a thud to the floor, and his chest failed to expand.

Even Robin Hood – who was sometimes disdainful of messy deaths – seemed keen to let the man rot, and Goro sneered at the cooling corpse before turning back to his rival.

Mine.  Loki purred, and Robin agreed.

Goro raised the gun again to point between Akira’s eyes.

“I win.”

Vaguely, he noted that he had practically crooned the words – Loki lingering at the forefront of his mind heavily influencing whatever expression he was making.  He expected Akira to scowl at his loss, or smirk at Goro and reveal his winning hand, or something.

Instead, he stayed stock still, looking with wide eyes at the gun nearly pressed to his forehead.

It was entirely at-odds with the Akira that Goro had come to… share a soul with (god, that was so weird to think about) in the past week.  Originally, Goro had had a whole monologue to sneer at Akira with before he won, but it was rather redundant given their everything.  Most of it had been a last-ditch effort to convince himself that killing Akira was a triumph, not an aching loss.

(Not something that may very well have broken him entirely.)

Instead of that, he wanted to gloat to Akira’s face and see him bristle or laugh or pout or do any of the ridiculous, unpredictable things that made Goro want to destroy him.

(Covet him, Robin idly corrected.)

But Akira was just… staring.  Looking stunned and dumbfounded which wasn’t right.

Goro furrowed his brow and lowered the gun, tentatively reaching out for Akira’s cheek.  Maybe the drugs were muddling his mind too much for him to really understand what was happening.  As the haze of victory cleared, Goro began to take notice of any number of other injuries that might be impairing Akira’s perceptions.  A possible concussion underneath a bruise on his temple, he could be hypothermic from the cold, or maybe there was internal bleeding somewhere?

Something in Akira’s eyes was wrong, Goro finally realized.  They were a bit glassy, sure, but there was a fire absent in them that was normally so hypnotic to watch.  It made him look corpse-like even while breathing, and Goro began to step around the table, torn between suspicion and concern, when a hissing sound behind him made him whip around, gun raised.

Where the guard had been laying for a few minutes now, only smoke and ash rose into the air.  An achingly familiar sight that ripped the breath right out of his lungs.

Metaverse.

How?  And when?  Goro spun back to face what must actually be Akira’s doppelganger and he reeled, trying to figure out where he had slipped up.

Sae.

Of course.  He’d felt momentarily dizzy, then lighter and stronger than normal – textbook Metaverse transport.  But it had been almost too subtle; his clothes were the same, the station was unchanged, and it wasn’t possible to enter Mementos this far from Shibuya.  The only thing he could liken it to was…

The edges of a palace.

Shit, Nijima had been in charge of getting the treasure out at some point, right?  And if she was in on the plot (obviously. Akira’s sycophants would never let him literally leap into danger without some kind of backup.) then there was every possibility that Sae’s palace was still here.

He still wasn’t entirely certain how they managed to transport him at all.  How could Sakura have timed it right, even with the bug?  (Maybe it had something to do with the way that Sae had shown him Akira’s phone?) Ultimately, it didn’t matter.  If Goro hadn’t made that deal with Akira – had been aiming only to distance himself and shoot to kill – then he probably wouldn’t even have noticed.

Which meant Akira had won.

Motherfucker!

He snarled and yanked out his phone, pulling up the Metanav to see that he was indeed registered within Sae’s shitty-ass palace goddamnit.  Practically stabbing at his phone screen, he transported himself back to the real world in an instant.

When his body felt solid again, he whirled on Akira – sitting in the same place as his unnerving double – and hissed with as much venom as possible.  “Fuck you!”

The real guard must be standing outside still, so Goro only barely restrained himself from shouting at the last moment.  He still wanted to slam Akira against a wall, though.  Or gently hold him.  Shut up, Robin.

Akira, still bruised and bloody (and oh, those fuckers were going to pay for every minute that they touched him), smiled sunnily up at Goro and said, “I win.”

They were far too much alike for comfort, and Goro glowered even harder.

“You are so fucking stupid!  What kind of risk was that!  If we didn’t have a deal, what would have happened if I decided to idly check my phone?  What then!?  This is the worst plan I’ve ever seen!”  Goro growled and holstered the gun with a sick feeling, suddenly realizing how much could have gone wrong.

Akira’s fucking life was at stake, and this was the best his friends could do!?  That plan was practically made of tissue paper for all of the security it offered!  Goro was going to kill them.

“Worked, didn’t it?”  Akira smirked, but it was sluggish.  Narrowing his eyes, Goro noted that Sae’s recreation was actually relatively accurate.  Akira looked like exhaustion had made a nest in his brain; vaguely slumped, listing slightly to the side, and eyes glassy with disorientation (he’d better not be feverish, Jesus fuck).  The bruises remained accurate as well, and Goro itched to check over Akira with his own hands.

“I can’t fucking believe it did.  Did you even have a plan to get out, or are you leaving that to chance too?”  Goro snarled and ripped off his left glove to feel Akira’s forehead.  Not overwarm, at least (and maybe his heart jumped a bit when Akira leaned into his touch, but no one needed to know that).

“Sae’ll be back.  ‘Taba is filling her in ‘bout everything.”  Akira was slurring more heavily now, like whatever had been keeping him going – stubbornness or adrenaline – was finally giving up the fight.

“Except for me.”  Goro noted.

Apparently, Akira still wasn’t sure how to explain his… situation to the Thieves, so they’d both agreed to keep their arrangement secret until it could be overshadowed by everything else, and Akira could easily dodge the topic of how, exactly, they’d made their deal.

Personally, Goro thought it was stupid, but that snapping possessive part of him was perfectly happy to hoard every secret, hidden facet that Akira granted to him alone.  So, he’d agreed to the omission.

But now Sae would be walking back in here expecting an assassination attempt, and he’d have to talk her down, which was just great.  Ugh. 

Not to mention, Sakura’s virus in his phone had some way to send him to Metaverse like that, which meant that she had seen him return from the Metaverse too early, which in turn meant that she was probably going to do something drastic.

Shit, he couldn’t afford a scene.

“This is all your fault.”  He groaned, refusing to elaborate.  Apparently, he didn’t need to, because Akira grinned loopily at him like he was laughing at the impending disaster.

Fucking insane.

“No, no.  ‘ve got this.”  Akira flapped a hand vaguely towards Goro’s pocket in a gesture which probably meant ‘hand me your phone’.  He was lucky that Goro had made a hobby out of studying him.

Still, Goro rolled his eyes and handed it over, coming over to Akira’s side, both to see what he was doing and to subtly initiate some contact (shut up Loki).

Akira quickly unlocked it and pulled up his text messages (they’d both broken into each other’s phones just two days ago at Jazz Jin as part of a competition.  Goro had smugly figured out Akira’s password first), and opened a text to Sakura.  Before Goro could warn him that it was likely Sakura wasn’t the only one watching his phone, Akira typed in a few numbers and a word – clearly a code of some sort – but didn’t press send.  He just waited.

[217Alibaba]

The screen was overtaken by Futaba’s cackling ‘hacker symbol’, and Goro assumed that their communications were likely secure at that point.

[HOLY SHIT WHAT’S HAPPENING!?!?!?]

[Don’t worry, I’m fine.]

[Yeah, right I’ll believe it when I see it]

[But what happened with Akechi!?  You scared the shit out of me!!]

[We came to an agreement.]

[Okay, wow??  What did u do??]

[Nothing much.]

Goro snorted, nothing much.  Yeah right.  As if Akira hadn’t brokered a deal with a malignant god, defied his fate, and… done whatever the fuck to their personae (Goro definitely blamed his shit luck for the status effect becoming permanent).  Not to mention the bastard managed to win in their game.  When he wasn’t grievously injured, Goro was going to even the score.

[Uh huh…]

[Sae is still on her way back btw]

[eta like 10 min probably]

[I’m going to kick ur ass for giving me a heart attack when u get back to Leblanc]

[Sorry about that]

[Also tell Akechi I’m going to fuckin murder him if this is a trick or sumthin]

Goro rolled his eyes and snatched the phone from Akira’s hands.

[Noted]

[Oh, hello Prince boy]

[Your creative insults never cease to astound.]

[And ur pretentious ass is pretentious]

Goro was about to respond with something biting, when Akira snickered and grabbed the device back.

[Taba, don’t torment my soulmate]

[…too much]

Goro nearly squawked, heat rising to his face.  “I’m sorry, your what!?”  He reeled backwards, but kept one arm around Akira’s shoulder to hold him upright (he’d begun rapidly collapsing the second Goro provided somewhere to lean).

“Is there some other way to describe the way we now share personae?”  Akira asked, surprisingly coherent, right up until the last word which he slurred into Goro’s shoulder.

Rolling his eyes with a scoff, Goro ignored the way his phone had started buzzing wildly, and yanked it back.  He typed a quick ‘ttyl’ and checked the time.  Shit, he was cutting it close to when Shido was expecting a call.

“Nevermind that right now.  I have some lose ends to clean up.”  Goro tried to school himself back behind his mask, though it felt laborious with Akira so close.  These days, he could be real when they were alone, and it chafed at him to hide away.

Akira sent him a curious look, but Goro quickly dialed Shido’s number, focusing on his carefully designed script and deflections.  The sooner he could throw Shido off of Akira’s scent, the better.

As expected, Shido was snappish and infuriating the whole time, foolishly considering going after the other Thieves, at which Goro had to restrain a sigh.  Yes, a whole well known group of suspected accomplices all dropping mysteriously dead simultaneously wasn’t obvious at all.  Shido’s paranoia was becoming truly absurd.  And given all that Goro knew about his shitty palace, it was obvious in the way he tried desperately to sequester himself away.

Honestly, it would either be a boon or a liability within his palace.  Maybe both.

While he let his mask run on auto pilot, Goro took quick inventory of his… not soulmate thank you very much.  Akira was sitting more on one side than the other, even when Goro pulled away to kneel by him instead.  He likely had a leg injury, and his ribs weren’t doing much better, based on his posture and lean.  Loki was snarling and snapping in Goro’s mind as they took in bloody wrists, bruises, and needle marks, champing at the bit for retribution.  It was Robin who stilled their hand, insisting one thing at a time, Akira is first priority.

Which… sappy, but also true.

He barely heard himself sign-off, jabbing at the ‘End Call’ button viciously.  Fucker.

“Shido?”

“Obviously.  Congratulations on being declared legally dead, by the way.”  Goro shoved the phone into his back pocket, quickly bringing both hands up to steady Akira.  And subtly make sure he wasn’t too severely injured to walk.

“My great’st ambition.”  Akira joked, bringing both hands onto Goro’s shoulders as he listed forward.

“Right now, your ‘greatest ambition’ should be getting the fuck out of here.”  Goro rolled his eyes, and tried to gently encourage Akira to stand.  “When Sae comes in, I expect you to be lucid enough to assure her that I’m not killing you.  Yet.”

Akira grinned, but only made it about halfway up before the leg he’d been favoring gave out entirely, sending him pitching to the side.  Goro had to lunge forward to catch him before he brained himself on the table.  Shit.

“Akira!”  He managed to strangle the shout into a hiss at the last second.  Akira’s head thudded against his collar bone, and Goro instinctively pulled him closer until he was barely up holding any of his own weight.  “Goddamnit, I’m going to skin those bastards.”  He growled.

Loki was nearly shredding the walls of his mind with repressed vicious energy, and Goro had to fight against the urge to bring fangs and claws to the fore.  It wasn’t until the familiar warmth of Arséne burned through his bones that Loki calmed enough for Goro to haul Akira up onto the table.

In the back of his mind, he got the sense of claws, flames, and feathers, but he determinedly stayed focused on Akira.  Their dumbass personae could handle themselves.

“I take it back; your greatest ambition should be telling me exactly what they did to you so that I can return the favor.”  Goro found himself growling – and leaning far too close to Akira’s face, with arms still around his back.

Akira looked heavily disoriented, but still managed a fond curl of his lips, hands tightening on Goro’s tense shoulders.  Before he got the chance to undoubtedly say something utterly stupid (and not answer Goro, the little shit), the door slammed open behind him.

Loki raged to the fore, and Robin practically tore the muscles in his arm urging him draw the stolen gun.  He whipped around on the spot, taking a protective stance in front of Akira; his first thought was that the guard outside had heard the commotion and therefore needed to die.

It took long moments before his vision cleared enough to see the wide eyes of Sae Nijima.  With great effort, he managed to persuade his personae to pull back, and he clicked the safety back on.  Akira’s forehead was pressed against his back, the Thief’s arms having looped around his middle at some point, and the warmth of contact helped Goro to very slowly lower his weapon.   He was still stuck in a stand-off with an apparently speechless Sae, but at least he was little less threatening.

“Akechi!?”  Sae choked out, eyes flicking from Akira’s arms to Goro’s face and back again.  “I thought…”

Fuck it.  “We’ll talk later.  For now, I’m going to assume that you have a functioning vehicle.”  Goro snarled.  He’d meant to mask Loki’s ire a bit more, but he wound up sounding about as aggressive and demanding as he ever did.

Sae blinked, looking shocked and bit defensive.  Ugh, this shit was why he normally had practiced behaviors to fall back on.

“And why should I trust you?”  Her eyes were narrow, and she kept her hands relaxed at her side, obviously ready to fight should she need to.  Goddmnit, now was not the time.

“You shouldn’t.”  He snarled, unable to keep the rage at bay.  “I honestly couldn’t give less of a shit, but right now, Akira needs to get his ass to Leblanc before someone else comes along to check that he’s dead.”  With barely a thought, Goro threw the gun at Sae – the mean way too, so that it was difficult to catch – and watched with amusement as she nearly fumbled it.  “Keep that, if you’re so fucking concerned.  Now, do you have a car.”

Sae was just kind of staring with her mouth open, but Goro couldn’t figure out why.  Against his back, Akira was slowly straightening, tugging at Goro’s arm until he acquiesced to the silent request, and shifted in order to help Akira sit upright.

“’S alright.”  Akira managed to grin at her – though it was even more lopsided than usual from a slowly-darkening bruise on his cheek.  “He’s with me.”

Goro rolled his eyes at the ludicrously sappy hidden meaning there, but stayed focused on Sae.  She was, thankfully, not a complete moron, and he could almost see her compartmentalizing away her confusion until simple logic remained.

“Okay, fine.”  She finally sighed, stepping forward.  “I’ll get you both out of here, but I’m going to need answers when arrive at Leblanc.”

She started to reach out, as if to try and help Akira move to his feet, and Goro suddenly could not stand the thought of someone else touching what was his.  He bared his teeth threateningly, and made a swift motion to scoop Akira into his arms, noting with satisfaction that Sae recoiled immediately with an eyebrow raised.

Perfect.  Now she and everyone else could do themselves a favor and back the fuck off.

Vaguely, he noted that Loki still hadn’t settled after Sae barged in, and that at least part of his possessive aggression came from there.  But he also didn’t really give a shit right now.  Even Robin wasn’t protesting his behavior – instead it seemed his personae were in unanimous agreement for once.

Akira made a weird little delirious sound into his shoulder, and Goro decided that that was his cue to leave.

“Lead the way.”  He said in a barely-recognizable echo of his usual charm.

Sae looked at him quizzically, before shaking her head and turning around.  “Come on, we’re taking the emergency exit.  Your hacker friend seems to have ensured our way out.”

Despite the assurance that Sakura’s interference brought, Goro still found himself tense and battle-ready as they moved through the back hallways of the station.  At any moment, he expected someone to turn the corner and see them, but minutes passed, and no one showed.

He should have expected it – since it was rather late at night – but the general vacancy in this part of the station felt like a balance that could shatter at any second.  It wasn’t until they pushed their way out the fire exit (obviously manipulated so that the alarm didn’t go off) that he allowed himself a slow exhale.  They weren’t out of the woods yet, but just being outdoors helped their chances of escape immensely, should they be spotted.

Silently, Sae led them around to the back of the building, where her car was parked.  Driving away wouldn’t be subtle, but as long as only Sae could be seen, they’d have plausible deniability.

“Get in and lay down.”  Sae whispered, obviously following the same line of thought as she opened the back door.

Goro did as requested, though it took some maneuvering to get Akira to lay comfortably on the seats.  He’d intended to hide in the footwell, but Akira grabbed his arm and pulled until Goro nearly fell on top of him.

“What do you think you’re doing!?”  Goro hissed in exasperation.  Akira just grinned and yanked him into an awkward hug.

“Cuddling.”

Jesus fuck, his idiocy really knew no bounds.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Loki wants to.”

Loki was, indeed, crooning for contact and possessive weight in the back of his mind.  Goro grimaced, imagining what his chaotic persona must be doing to Akira’s eyes.  Probably they were already wrapped around his thief.  Dick.

Even Robin Hood wasn’t objecting to the idea, apparently preoccupied with staying close to Arséne along their bond in a manner that practically screamed protective.

“Hurry up, we don’t have time.”  Sae hissed from the front seat, closing the door behind her.

Fucking fine.

With a grimace, Goro settled behind Akira and wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him steady on the seat – as close as they could safely get to using a seat belt, though if Sae crashed, they’d probably just both die.  He yanked the door closed viciously and snarled at Sae.  “Go.”

Sae drove at a leisurely pace, and Goro mentally commended her restraint before he became entirely distracted by the way that Akira pressed against him, and nuzzled into the arm that Goro was using to support his head.

“You’re so goddamn stupid.”  Goro huffed into Akira’s infuriatingly soft hair.  He wasn’t even sure what precisely he was referring to, just that it needed to be said about their situation in general.

“Comfy, though.”  Akira slurred.

Goro incredulously considered the lumpy back seat they were stretched out on and took a moment to remember that exhaustion could make anywhere comfortable.  Especially if you were delirious.  Or concussed.

“If you’re concussed, I’m going to actually kill you.”

“Mmmh.  Sure.”

Goro could actually feel Akira’s muscles relaxing and going limp against him, like every wound-up tension was being soothed.  He instinctively tightened his grip around Akira’s waist to make sure he didn’t roll off the too-thin seats.  Idiot.

Mine.

It took them long, tense minutes to pull up next to the Sakuras’ car, and Goro remained watchful the entire time.  Not just alert for sirens, but also cataloguing the myriad of ways that Akira seemed to be injured.  Every time they took a curve, he tensed and hissed for a moment, wincing against what seemed more and more like either broken or fractured ribs.  Not to mention whatever was wrong with his leg – since he kept holding it away from contact with anything.

By the time Sae was stepping out of the car, Goro had already sat up and pulled Akira close; ready to get him to bed as quickly as possible.

“Sae, go to the clinic and get Takemi.  Her number should be on the door if she isn’t in.”  He said, barely restraining himself to just being curt, rather than growling.  Loki was still a bit too volatile in his mind, hissing and spitting and snarling.

Luckily, Sae didn’t take offense, apparently becoming rapidly accustomed to being ordered around for the moment.  He fully expected some amount of snapping back soon, though.  For now, he heard her walk away, and he tried to gently get Akira to sit up.

“Come on, we’re going inside.”

Akira was obviously still groggy, but Goro managed to eventually lift him back into his arms and kick the car door closed behind them.  Here was hoping that Sakura (either of them) didn’t immediately try to murder Goro the second he stepped foot in the door.

He really didn’t want to set Akira down, so he tapped the toe of his shoe against the shuttered door, knowing that at least one of the Sakuras would be around to open it for him.  There was the sound of steps on a wooden floor – notably fast-paced – before the door was flung open in his face.

“You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!”  Sakura gasped, looking winded.  It clearly took her a moment to register who he was, because she slowly raised her eyebrows at him.  “Oh.  Hi, Akechi, thanks for not murdering my brother.  Also, sorry.”

He was about to ask, ‘Sorry about what?’ when the answer just about bellowed from over her shoulder.

“Akechi is here!?  I’m gonna kick his ass!”

Great, if Sakamoto was here, so were the rest of Akira’s friends.  He fixed Sakura with a long-suffering look which she snickered at.  “What?  I had to call in the cavalry just in case, you know.”

Jesus Christ.  He was not letting Akira be unconscious for this one.  He jostled him just enough to make him open his eyes and look around.  “Guess what dipshit.  Your entire entourage has decided to grace us with their presence.”

Akira’s eyes widened.  “Shit.” he managed, and tried to get himself down from Goro’s arms.  Goro allowed it only because the door to Lablanc was too thin to fit them otherwise.  Still, he carried most of Akira’s weight with an arm around his middle; there was no way he was letting him faceplant onto the floor and get and even worse head injury.

Sakura stepped to the side to let them pass, but quickly fell in close to cling to Akira’s free arm.  Something jealous in Goro’s chest reared up until he ruthlessly stifled it for being stupid.  Interestingly, that hadn’t felt like Loki.

Sakamoto looked inches away from committing violence, and Goro suspected that the only reason he wasn’t actively attacking was Kitagawa’s hand yanking him backward by the collar of his shirt.

There was a moment of tense silence, before Akira – drug addled and likely concussed – smirked widely and slurred out, “Surprise!” like a fucking moron.

Goro didn’t resist the urge to bury his face into his free hand.  How had he become so obsessed with a goddamn fool.  The silence continued, until the cat let out a strained, “Akira, what the fuck.”

Some deity must always be looking fondly on Akira, because at that moment, Sae opened the door with a jingle and closed it behind her.  “I’ve called your doctor, she said that she’ll be over in about ten minutes.”

Nijima was up in an instant pulling her sister to the side to talk about something, but Goro was willing to take any cue to leave.  With a shrug, he started pulling Akira towards the stairs.

“Tell her that I’m getting this idiot to lie down before he falls down.”  He called over his shoulder, taking advantage of the still-stunned Thieves to make a swift exit (with the exception of the younger Sakura who was still clinging to Akira and followed them up the stairs).

If anyone else tried to follow them, he was going to fucking lose it.

-------

Akira could admit that he was probably losing entire minutes of time at this point.  One moment he was watching gleefully as Loki, Robin, and Goro materialized in front of him – expressions ranging from bloodthirsty (Loki), to exasperated (Robin), to furious (Goro), and the next he was falling forward into Goro’s arms which were warm and wonderful (even though it pressed his chest against the cold of his still-damp shirt).

He vaguely recalled typing the code to Futaba and assuring her that he was fine, and he was pretty sure he’d even been talking with Goro for a bit, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what he’d said anymore.  Even when Sae showed up, he’d felt lucid enough to talk to her, but he didn’t really recall any specifics later when Goro was putting him down in a vehicle (oh right, he’d picked Akira up in a delightful show of possessive fervor – Loki had been practically wrapped around Arséne for a while now so there was really no surprise there).

When Goro pulled back and away, Akira actually felt unpleasantly lucid for the first time in… however long.  He didn’t want Goro to leave.  He was cold and everything hurt, and Loki was fine with cuddling (actually, so was Robin, who was sitting practically on top of the mess of feathers and flame that was Loki and Arséne), so Goro should stay.

He apparently managed to be convincing (though he still couldn’t remember what he’d said then either), because it wasn’t long before Goro was laying down behind him, with an arm around his waist.

It was enough to lull Akira into an actual doze – one he was conscious of this time.  The rumbling of the car moving (that’s right, Sae was going to drive them out of there) wasn’t quite like Loki’s purring, but Goro was warm at his back, and their collective personae were comically cramped together halfway through the walls of the car, and Akira was sure he was safe.

The small nap must have done wonders, because Akira felt almost entirely aware when the rumbling stopped and Goro began to sit up.

Right.  Leblanc.

For a moment, he considered trying to stand up himself, but Goro was apparently not done being insanely possessive.  Which was just fine with Akira, honestly.

He figured he had the right to pretend to be totally unconscious at this point, and he settled heavily against Goro’s chest.  The bell jingled loudly and Akira heard Futaba and Goro exchanging… words he honestly wasn’t paying attention to.

Unfortunately, he apparently wasn’t allowed just sit this one out.  Goro nudged him awake with the shoulder he was currently leaning on.  “Guess what dipshit.  Your entire entourage has decided to grace us with their presence.”

What?  They were supposed to wait until tomorrow to come over, just in case Leblanc was being watched.  He opened his eyes wide in an effort to wake up, and realized that Futaba looked a little sheepish, but mostly kind of unstable.  Ah, right.  She must have called them in because she thought it was an emergency.

Shit.

“Shit.”

He struggled to get his legs under him properly and stand up – but nearly failed when the same stupid leg started to give out.  Goro was still holding up most of his weight, though, so he didn’t actually fall on his face.  Small mercies.

Futaba let them inside, and Akira tried to shake some sense into himself in order to take stock of the situation.  The Thieves were clustered around their normal table, all looking varying degrees of hostile, shocked, or confused.  Ryuji in particular was apparently only being held back by Yusuke, which was kind of amusing, considering the way Goro looked like he’d curb-stomp anyone who seemed even vaguely threatening at the moment.  Sojiro was over at the counter – notably exhausted if the bags under his eyes meant anything – methodically cleaning already-spotless cups, but mercifully not immediately jumping to conclusions or yelling.

Actually, no one was yelling.  It seemed like there was just kind of… stunned silence all around.  Hmmm…

Before he could consciously censor himself, he felt his lips crawl into Joker’s smirk and drawled; “Surprise!”

Which was, objectively, hilarious, but his team seemed less than pleased.  Morgana gave him a look like ‘what the fuck have you done now’ and meowed out a displeased; “Akira, what the fuck.”

He wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that.  Should he start with ‘Goro’s definitely my boyfriend – we have an agreement’, or the weird status effect, or maybe just something about their no-killing-each-other-yet deal?  All of those seemed like way too lengthy explanations with far too much opportunity for misinterpretation.  So, instead, he just… stayed silent.

Until Sae burst in through the door behind them.

“I’ve called your doctor, she said that she’ll be over in about ten minutes.”

Oh, right, Takemi.  Beside him, Akira felt Goro suddenly begin moving hastily. 

“Tell her that I’m getting this idiot to lie down before he falls down.”  Without waiting for any sort of response, he kind of… half-carried Akira to the stairs.  It wasn’t until they started climbing that Akira realized the leaden weight on his free arm wasn’t actually just exhaustion; it was Futaba clinging to him.  Huh.

His brain must have skipped a few seconds, because the next thing he registered was plopping down onto his thin mattress, Futaba now just sitting beside him, while Goro started to pull his uniform jacket off.

“Can you guys give me like any explanation?”  Futaba huffed, and Akira smiled at her, trying vaguely to help Goro get his jacket off.  Prometheus was whizzing about over her head, obviously half-panicked and looking for something to do.  Oh, she was still worried.  Duh.

Goro didn’t deign to reply, so Akira tried to wrack his brain for anything.

“Um…” great start, “We’ve got a new target, and Goro’s my boyfriend.”  Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best way to say it, but both were true, and his brain was still kind of foggy.

“What!?”

Oof, Futaba’s voice could get pretty shrill, apparently.

“Akira, I’m going to strangle you.”

Cute.

“Cute.”

Weird, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Is this about the soulmates thing you texted to me, because that is so many levels of confusing?”  Futaba sounded like she was maybe at the end of her rope in terms of his weirdness.  Whoops.

“We aren’t soulmates.”  Goro hissed, finally tugging Akira’s arms free from his damp jacket.  Ugh, it was fucking cold.  “Any relationship would have to be discussed in private before making an announcement.”  Oh, he was glaring.  Now he was extra attractive.  Notably, Loki was attentively preening Arséne’s feathers with his claws over by the table while Robin stood solemn guard at the stairs.  So… pretty sure they were soulmates.

“We did discuss it.  We have a deal.”  Akira protested.  The deal was obviously romantic, so clearly they were dating, and their souls had like…courted or something, so there.

“A deal?”  Futaba asked looking thrown.

Goro was actually blushing now (incredibly cute), and he opened his mouth for a moment before closing it and snarling.  “Fine.  More importantly though, we’ve agreed to hunt down the asshole that ordered Akira’s death.  My employer.”

Excellent deflection, except that Akira was certain Futaba wasn’t going to let everything off the hook that easily.  At least she seemed willing to consider the whole ‘new target’ thing.

“Okay, okay, hold on.  There is so much going on here, holy shit.  Who is this fucker, and if you hate him, why isn’t he already dead?”

Oh, dear.  That was kind of a sensitive topic from what Akira had managed to gather, but he was once again distracted when Goro started pulling at his shirt.  He really wished he could raise his arms up and help, but something told him that would be a bad idea.

“Death is a mercy that Masayoshi Shido doesn’t deserve.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure your dumbass leader doesn’t get hypothermia.”  Goro’s voice was utterly cold and practically featureless.  Yeah, that was to be expected.  There was going to be a lot of talking later, and Akira was already exhausted.

Goro had apparently realized that Akira wasn’t going to be contorting his torso any time soon, because he started with his sleeves to free his arms first.  Now, that he could help with.  It wasn’t too long before the gross, wet turtleneck was off, and Akira was shivering in the cold of the air.  It was still better than the shirt, but ugh.

“Akira…”  Futaba sounded kind of pained.  Which made sense; Akira also felt pained because ow, and his neck was all stingy on one side, and his leg still hurt like a bitch.  Prometheus was zipping around behind Futaba – they were kind of hard to read, but were obviously worried.

“I really am going to skin them alive.  It’s a shame you redirected me, or one of them would already be dead.”  Goro said casually, which is how Akira knew that he was absolutely murderous.  He only really got heated when he didn’t feel like he was in control of a situation – which Akira delighted in instigating – so planning manslaughter just made him go all cool and ruthless.

It was kind of devastatingly attractive.

“Okay, guinea pig, status report.”

Oh, Takemi had arrived.

Goro moved from his position in front of Akira to instead sit beside him.  Which was fabulous because he was warm, and now Akira could lean on him properly.  He was tempted to just close his eyes and cuddle into Goro further, when there was a clicking sound right in front of his face.

Huh, he must have started to drift again.  When had Takemi kneeled in front of him to snap her fingers?

“He’s been drugged, possibly concussed, and I know for certain his leg and torso sustained some amount of damage.  Whether or not anything is broken, I am unsure.”

Wow, Goro was really straddling the ‘Detective Prince’ line there.  He sounded half polite, half vicious.  Akira tried again to shake off the delirium like he had when he was talking to Sae, but it was working less and less over time.

“Do you know what kind of drugs?”

Goro stiffened beside him.  Oh, darn.  Akira should have thought to pocket one of the syringes so she could like, test it or something.  Aw man, he probably wasn’t even going to get the good pain meds at this rate.

“Sorry,” he tried, unsure if it was at all coherent, “they just called it a ‘truth serum’.”  He shivered against the cold that kept sweeping over him.  “Fucking cold, though.”

At least some of that must have gotten through, because Futaba practically yanked the comforter off the bottom of his bed to throw it over his shoulders, and Goro wrapped one arm around his shoulders to pull him tight against his side.  Perfect.  Now, if his ribs would stop shouting at him, he could drop off to sleep.  He just might do that anyway.

“Hey, guinea pig, you can sleep in a sec, but I need to stay awake a bit longer first.”  Takemi’s voice was gentle but firm, and Akira groaned, but opened his eyes anyway. 

It was annoying, but he let Takemi guide him through some check-ups.  She had him follow a pen with his eyes (a little dizzying, but pretty easy), looked at his pupils, pressed firmly against different parts of his ribcage (ow ow ow), and had him roll up his pant leg to look at his thigh (which was apparently horribly bruised).  All the while, Goro stayed solid against him, and Akira kept getting distracted by the way that their personae were basically cuddling together again – which probably didn’t do him any favors in convincing Takemi he was mostly lucid, but whatever.

People were talking around him, but he was really starting to drift off now, and no one shook him, or snapped at him, so he tried leaning sideways against Goro again.  Sleep was supposed to be the best medicine right?

When he felt a warm hand carding fingers through his hair, he smiled slightly, wishing he could purr or chirp like their personae to express how much he appreciated the motion.  Unfortunately, the most he could manage was a satisfied exhale as he rapidly dropped into a doze.

He was with his family, and he was safe, so really, everything was perfect.