scenario where akechi was saved by his phantom-thief lover and they were shot instead of him? maybe they lost their eye? in their last conscious moments they murdered the cognitive goro before they collapsed, and theyre rushed to the hospital once they leave the metaverse. maybe the aftermath of that, in the hospital? (sorry i really love ur writing esp for akechi so... expect more akechi reqs in the future... he best boy...)
Just as a heads up, Iāve actually written something super similar to this request on my ao3. To make this feel different, I changed some little things around here to there. Follow this link if you want to read the other story.
Goro Akechi is not sure what heās feeling.
He knows itās bad, that much hecan tell from the get go, but he hasnāt given it enough thought to categorise itinto pretty little boxes. The past few hours have been too chaotic to even try.Thereās more time to think about it now, he supposes, while youāre asleep ā andthe blaring thrum of his heart in his chest doesnāt sound through his body withthe force of a drum. He feels the cold skin on your hand, and it seems ill andsickly compared to the warmth he usually associates with trailing his fingersalong your palms.
It all comes back to the momenthe loses control of himself; when the difference between inflicting andreceiving pain thins to an incomprehensible, mid-battle haze until theadrenaline recedes along with the strength in his legs. He falls to the floor.
āPlease donāt fight us anymore,āyou say, standing over him. His initial reaction is to laugh in your face.
It is funny, isnāt it? Becauseitās long before your first confession that heās wanted to do this. Eversince his birth, his life has been an absolute misery: his father abandonshim, his mother hates him, yells at him, uses his fear to control hisbehaviour in front of others, and eventually, he walks in on her hanging from a ceiling. He spends the first six years of his lifehungry and cold, and the next eleven after that lonely and scared.
Think about ratios here, hetries to justify; two days canāt change a man, even if it was two days ago that-
āI love you, Goro Akechi.ā
Suddenly, the laugh in histhroat feels like a lump.
Fear is the second emotion. It comes when the Phantom Thieves crowdaround him, because he feels small; curled up on the floor and holding everywhere that aches like the same lonelychild from all those years ago.
āIf everyone knew how much of acry-baby you are, theyād tell me to leave you,ā his mother says, and walks outof the room to smoke a cigarette.
Right now, Goro Akechi isnātcrying.
āNow that you know who I am,you should leave me,ā he says. Youāre staring down at him, and you donāt looklike you want to acknowledge his words. You just look kind of sad.
The resolute tone in his voicedoes nothing to portray the tremors inside of him. On repeat, like a brokentape recorder, all he can think is āplease donāt.ā Itās pathetic, it really is,because itās only now that heās lost and grovelling at your feet that he wantsyour pity. By all means, you should leave him.
You really, really should.
Heās scared of your response, because even ifheās not scared of dying here, he is scaredof losing you, and he canāt imagine thereās any way to salvage yourrelationship when youāve found out how heās been pulling the strings.
āWeāre not leaving you,ā yousay.
Like water sinking into theearth, his dread disappears. Heāsdumbstruck, because as much he was hoping (praying, begging, desperatelywishing) for this turn of events, he didnāt think it would actually happen.
āWhy?ā His voice is broken up.It comes out as tattered around the edges, far away from the confidence hetried so hard to emulate.
āYou need our help too.ā Youlook pained, and maybe a little unsure of yourself. āI want to help you.ā
Thereās something akin to joy, but it doesnāt last long. Before hecan say anything, his doppelganger comes.
He should know thereāssomething off about your face, about the way youāre standing slightly on yourtip toes with the muscles in your calves all tensed up and solid, but heās gotother things to worry about. After all, he ison the receiving end of a gun.
He needs to play this right.
Fear comes again, and stays for a while. He fears a lot of thingsin that moment. Heās fears for your life, and it feels strange when justseconds ago he was so indifferent to it. Itās the driving force behind the wayhis face pulls into a grin that feels too tight for his face, and points thegun straight towards you. Itās the first time in his life heās feared pullingthe trigger, and he fears the hurt expression on your face as he does it. Hefears the next decision he has to make, and that too, feels strange, because heāsso used to being ready to throw his life away. Maybe heās been underestimatinghow much the human body wants to survive now that itās come down to it. (Notthat it has a choice, anyway. Heās already made his decision.)
Acceptance is next. When he laughs, itās because heknows thereās no way around it. This is the best-case scenario. They are thewinners, in every way. Theyāre kinder, more honest, and have more love to give.He swerves towards his doppelganger and fires the bullet.
The next few seconds are a madflurry of confusion. He can barelyremember them now, when thereās not so much as a painting on the blank, whitewall of the hospital room to distract him. He thinks maybe youāre the first oneto move, which makes sense, because if you and a bullet get to the same placeat the same time, then surely the bullet needs to be the one to go second.
Thereās a shot, but thatāsfine; itās what heās expecting. What heās not expecting, however, is you comingout of formation to jump at his doppelganger with a knife aimed straight at hisgut, and the bullet to sink neatly into your skull.
Thereās gasps, then panic. Pure, unadulterated panic.
āNo!ā He jumps towards you. Hisbreath comes out in short little gasps. With no absence in adrenaline, heshoves the other Akechi off and holds your body to his chest. Your eyes areopen, wide, wide open. Youāre scared.
āNo, no, no. Please donāt dothis,ā he chokes out.
Blood drips down to where heāsholding your head in his hand. Thereās already something wet on his face,blurry tears in his vision. āYouāre not doing this.ā
The rest of the Phantom Thievesstart acting quickly (and how typical is that, he thinks, that heās the onebeing useless again.) Akira approaches him from behind and places a hand on hisshoulder.
āYou hold her head,ā he says.
The other Akechi coughs in thebackground, and spouts some incomprehensible mutter about betrayal, about howAkechi is worthless, and how the one person who loved him is going to pay for it. Heās dying quickly. You pulledthe knife out of his stomach as your fell back into Akechiās arms, so the bloodfrom his stomach is coming out in little spurts that colour his khaki coat with a deep crimson. Spasmsgo through his legs as he coughs again, but thatās fine. He doesnāt matter. Youdo.
Ryuji picks up your legs, Akirapicks up your torso, and Akechi gently holds your head. Heās weak. Completelybroken, bruised, and everything hurts, but the adrenaline is still there. Youārestill there too, and thatās what makes the difference. Itās all he needs, evenif the shaky tremors that run through his feet make every step feel wobbly.
āDonāt leave me,ā he whispersinto your hair, and Ryuji looks at him with something that canāt be describedas anything more than pity. āPlease, I love you.ā (Like heās trying to convinceyou to stay.)
āI still love you,ā he says,taking your cold hand to his lips. The tick of the hospital clock feels too methodical. Fifteen minutes to twelve, it says, to remind him that everyone else has left long ago. āYouāll love me too, when you wake up,right?ā The steady beeping line of the heart monitor doesnāt affect him. āEvenif this is all my fault.ā The nurse that comes into the room and ushers him outcanāt stop him either, because he just waits outside and leans against the door until the nextmorning. āDonāt leave me. You canāt leave me,ā he hums against the wall, overand over.
Heās not sure if denial is an emotion.
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