Chapter Text
One hundred and five days. It was the 19th of May, now, three and a half months since their fates had been sealed. False happiness claimed everyone, all but two people trapped in a puppeteer's snare.
Goro would have given up had he been a weaker man. Watching his only desire lay dead in mind and will with none to grieve. Consumed by guilt, hopeless and feeling worthless. As though the entirety of the world should ever rest on one scarred teen's shoulders.
It was all that Goro could do to search and scream and tear at his own chains. Anger and hatred bubbling with an all-consuming sadness. In a perfect reality supposedly built for them, why were they the only ones suffering? Had the supposed "god" turned tail and run the moment he realized the pain he'd caused? Murder of the man he'd promised to save from pain, yet refusal to allow him the death he craved.
This all sickened Goro to his core. A breathing corpse the only remainder of his friend, an absent deity, ghosts of almost friends, brainwashed masses, and a crippling loneliness with no way to fight. One hundred and five days, and what did he have to show for it?
Goro knew that he wouldn't stop, not until he himself dropped dead. There was one way left to save his friend, if only he could find an entrance. He held no doubt that Lavenza must be trying on her end, Akira's attendant had tried to help them before. If one of them could reach the other, maybe they stood a chance.
Though Goro may not be able to access the Metaverse now, there were other things that he could do. Sit at Akira's side, bring him coffee and clean his room. Try to show him that he hadn't been abandoned, someone still cared. Even if it wouldn't fix things, maybe it could bring an ounce of solace to the broken man.
Goro wondered if Akira could hear him. If he ever had. He talked so much to him, even if it fell on deaf ears, the same way somebody might a comatose loved one. Akira may as well be. Even if he never heard, never woke up, never knew that Goro was there, he couldn't stop. There was nothing for him in this world but the shell of a man laying eternally in his bed.
With a quiet sigh, Goro pressed a coin into the crane game's slot. Shaky hands moved the stick, clumsy and uncaring. It still grabbed, deposited the toy he'd wanted. Luck was something of absence here, more of an expectation than a hope. That proved true even here.
The plush toy compressed under his fingers as he grabbed it, Goro hadn't realized how hard he was squeezing. He knew which dolls Akira had, they were displayed neatly on his desk. It had been something of a collectable for the man, and this was the last day Pyro Jack would be available. It felt silly, but Goro told himself that Akira might be upset to miss it.
It was almost protective, the way Goro held the doll to his chest as he walked towards LeBlanc. Glaring at anyone who even looked in his direction, squeezing it tighter than he should. At least there was no more image for him to uphold.
There wasn't even a need for Goro to mumble an excuse of bringing it as a gift for Akira since he was studying so hard, as Sojiro said. Goro did anyway, getting a curt nod from the man who stood behind the counter as though nothing was wrong. Too warped to realize.
Akira was facing towards him now. The only indication that the man woke up at all was that he'd sometimes change which side he slept on. Sleeping, always sleeping, just like now.
Goro knelt in front of him, lifting Akira's arm and gently slipping the doll under it. He pushed up Akira's bangs, giving his forehead a soft kiss. It was habit now, he hoped that Akira could feel it.
Goro let his fingers slide delicately down Akira's face, he seemed to be in such peaceful sleep. He looked so worn, as he had every right to be. He had been through too much, been hurt too badly. That was why Goro couldn't stop fighting to save him.
On several occasions, Goro had spent hours beside him. Waiting for him to wake up. Two whole days consecutively, at one of those points. He'd discovered that Akira wouldn't wake up at all if he was present, though why he wasn't sure. It was almost like he was under a spell. Or, the inner workings of his Palace were preventing him from stirring.
Even if he could no longer access the Metaverse, Goro knew without a doubt that the roots of a Palace were sprouting from Akira's soul. The cause of this all, and he knew that the Palace of a Persona user was far different than typical ones. More powerful.
Goro traced his fingers over Akira's jaw, then back up to his hair. So soft, despite not showering or moving at all. Goro took a deep, stuttered breath, then pushed to his feet. Akira looked so precious, laying with the doll in his arms. Goro wished he could have protected him from this. If there was anyone in the world who didn't deserve this fate, it was Akira.
The walk downstairs twisted his heart, is always did. Would the doll provide any sort of comfort, mean anything to him? Would Akira even notice? Would it be dropped to the floor the next time Goro visited?
As a man who'd sought answers for so long, who needed to understand everything there was to figure out, it pained him to be so uncertain. Whether he'd even succeed in saving Akira, or if his actions even mattered at all, he just couldn't be sure. It frightened him.
One hundred and six days. Goro still hadn't found anything. He didn't know how to look, where to look. It was all baseless theory, hope, something he detested to rely on.
He ordered coffee from Sojiro, the type Akira had always made for him. He hoped that the scent would provide a bit of comfort, reminder if nothing else. If he knew about it, did he know it was Goro bringing it? Probably not.
As he ascended the stairs, he could see Akira's back. Away from him, this time. He picked up the cold coffee cup that sat there untouched from the day before, replacing it with the steaming hot one. The cold one went downstairs to be emptied and cleaned first, Sojiro had never commented on it. Could he even tell?
Then, Goro went back up so he could talk to Akira about the previous day. It was a routine he had, coffee then talking then a kiss goodbye.
When he glanced over at the sleeping man's face, Goro's heart skipped a beat. Akira was hugging the doll tight to his chest, mouth pressed against it. Carefully, Goro pulled the blanket up to Akira's neck. He got cold easily, Goro remembered.
"I'm going to save you." Goro murmured, delicately stroking Akira's hair. "I'll make sure you wake up soon, alright? I'll be here for as long as you let me, given the choice I wouldn't ever leave your side. So make sure you open your eyes for me, okay? Whatever it is you need to talk about, I'm here. If you want me to hold you the same way you're holding that doll, I will. Fuck, Akira, I'll do anything if it means you'll stay awake. For now, get your rest. I'll tear this reality apart cell by cell if that's what you need."
Akira didn't respond, not like Goro expected him too. His breathing remained even, body relaxed despite the torment to his mind. Goro gave his head a soft kiss. "I love you, Akira." He whispered.
Never had Goro lost hope even for a moment. He knew logically that the chances of him finding anything were growing smaller and smaller, but he never dared consider that he wouldn't. The Akira he knew wouldn't forgive him if he did.
As rivals, it was their job to challenge each other. However, Akira had taught him that it also meant if one gave up, it was the other's job to help them to their feet. Akira had saved him, now it was his job to save Akira.
Goro stomped out into the middle of the street in Shibuya, seething. A world that allowed Akira to suffer such torture without anyone to help shoulder that weight shouldn't be allowed to exist, not like this.
"Maruki!" He screamed, in no way a disturbance to the people walking all around him. "Lavenza! Igor! Any one of you who can fucking hear me!" His throat hurt already, but he didn't care. Tears budded in his eyes, breathing ragged. It didn't feel so far from the time he'd inflicted Call of Chaos upon himself. "You all know exactly what Akira's current condition is, and if you aren't doing every fucking think you can to save him, I'll tear your very existence from the universe!"
He'd find a way. Goro would find a way, no matter what. He had to. Had to. Had to.
A flash of blue met the corner of Goro's eye, and his heart leapt, tears streaming. A butterfly.
"Igor and I have been trying to reach you, my Trickster's beloved. Only through our months of effort and your emotions that hold the power to shatter this world could I finally make contact with you. I wish I had more time, but alas, at least I'm able to return you ability to traverse freely between worlds. If I can be of any further service, I'll try to the best of my power. I know that you have everything you need to save him, so I will leave it in your hands. Best of luck, my master sends his regards."
The message echoed through Goro's ears, faint but clear. He scrambled to grab his phone, cursing as it took too long to open.
There it was. The nav. Sitting on his home screen, right before his eyes. He felt like he may faint. There it was, finally. He could save Akira. It didn't matter how big or difficult his Palace was, Goro could manage. After so long, he could kill Yaldabaoth single-handedly if that's what it took.
All at once, his knees crumpled. He fell to the ground, tears flowing freely down his face, right in the middle of Shibuya's streets. People stepped around him as though he didn't exist, but that didn't matter. He could finally reach Akira, pull him from the abyss of his mind. He knew that he'd see horrifying things there, face odds that would scare a weaker man away. Hell, clearing Shido's Palace in a single day, his Shadow and all, would probably be easier that just getting a quarter of the way.
Relief flooded his body, and Goro had no use for appearances even if people could notice. There was a chance he could see Akira smile again soon, and that was all he could care about right now.
Unsteadily, Goro pushed himself to his feet. He shouldn't start now, had to stock up. He knew who Akira's contacts were, even if getting supplies from them may be a challenge. He'd fucking steal it if that's what it came to. He needed to be ready, even if he most likely couldn't die here that didn't necessarily translate to the Metaverse.
This was it. One hundred and six days in, and an end was finally in sight. Goro wasn't sure how he'd feel when he first came face to face with Akira's Shadow, but he knew it wouldn't be easy. It was the source of Akira's pain, but it was still him. It probably would repeat the notion that no one cared, and Goro was prepared to beat that idea out of him if that's what it came down to. Preferably, he'd just like to hug him and never let go.
Tomorrow. After his visit to Akira, he'd head in. And he'd tear through as much of that Palace as he was able before day's end. Then, he'd do it again the next day. And the next. Until all he had to do was bring that world to its knees. And bring Akira back to him.