Chapter Text
Goro was tired.
God, Goro was so fucking tired.
He’d have to talk to that bastard about scheduling so many television appearances. Just because he was on summer vacation didn’t mean that he was all that free. The police that he worked with also knew that he was on break, so of course they were also piling on more and more work. And with election season coming up soon in full swing, the bastard himself was putting out more and more hits. Trying to balance his extracurricular work and his revenge plot and keeping up with his summer homework and finding any time at all to relax was a feat in and of itself. God. If he hadn’t made so much headway in his revenge plot, and if the deadline wasn’t coming up so soon, Goro would have gone and shot the bastard himself, right then and there.
Goro took a deep breath, running a gloved hand through his hair. Don’t rush it. It’d taken him years to get to this point, it’d be incredibly stupid of him to just throw it all away now. And Goro might be many things, a bastard, a celebrity, a detective, an assassin, but he sure as hell wasn’t stupid. Had he done stupid things? Absolutely. Becoming -and he was loathe to admit it- close with the person who was without a doubt the leader of the Phantom Thieves was certainly stupid act. Speaking of… He pulled out his personal cellphone. No new messages. He hadn’t heard from Amamiya in a while. Hopefully he hadn’t scared him away. It would be most… inconvenient if he lost his best connection to the Thieves. Having an ‘in’ should make it far easier to take them down whenever the bastard eventually called for it.
Turning the street corner, he saw his house come into view, his mood lifting ever so. It was late enough that Sakura-san should be home. Maybe he could even lure Futaba out of her shell enough to watch featherman with him tonight. She’d probably already seen the most recent episode, but maybe she’d do it for the company.
Wait.
The front door was slightly ajar. Why was it open. It’s not supposed to be open. As much as he’d like, there’s no way his sister would have left the house and Sakura-san was supposed to always keep the door when he left. With the storm on the horizon, the old man wouldn’t have left the door open either. There’s no way that Sakura-san would have left the house unlocked, leaving Futaba defenseless. If anyone had hurt her, he swore to-
Deep breath.
Goro backed up and leaned against the cold stone wall. Why had he left his gun hidden in his room today? Of all the days to forget it, it just had to be today. Leaning the briefcase against the wall, Goro lowered his posture, honed from years hiding from Shadows in the Metaverse, as he slunk closer and closer to the house. He could hear voices coming from inside the house. What kind of imbeciles committed to doing a breaking and entering and were loud enough half the street could probably hear them? Whatever. Made his job easier. He pushed the door open, making sure it was only wide enough for him to slip in and not let too much light in.
A clap of thunder roared and he heard Futaba scream.
Alright, all bets are off now.
He swung the door open entirely, the rattling of the door sliding open making a loud clang.
“Police!” Goro yelled, as he reached for the flashlight that he knew Sakura-san kept near the door. Technically not a lie. He did work with the police after all. He heard yelps from the shadowy figures in front of them. Was one of them…crying? What the fuck did they expect breaking into a house? Not to have to deal with the police at all? They really were amateurs. Amateurs or not, however, they were still capable of hurting Futaba and there was no way in hell Goro was going to let anyone hurt the only family he had left.
His thumb finally found the light switch to the flashlight and the beam lit up the hallway in front of him. Time to see what kind of idiots made the fatal mistake of breaking into the house of a former government employee and the most notorious (secret) assassin in modern Japan. And if they even touched a hair on his sisters head-
The first person he noticed was a girl, about his age, cowering on the floor, arms wrapped around something. She kept muttering things about her sister and saving her and frankly, Goro couldn’t care less. Though, he couldn’t help but notice that she looked incredibly familiar. Where had he seen her before? Was she one of his ‘fans’? God he hoped not. How the fuck would they even have found out where he lived? He used a fake address for everything that needed it, and a post box for any mail. There was no way that they could have-
“Akechi?”
Goro recognized the voice. He raised the flashlight following the thing that the girl was holding onto, now realizing that it was someone’s leg. He traced the leg up, past a chest, and to a face with glasses that were reflecting the light of the flashlight and a messy mop of black hair. Goro felt his entire body relax. What the ever loving fuck was he doing here?
“Amamiya-kun,” Goro switched his voice to that sickly sweet detective prince’s, ignoring the loathing that formed in the pits of his stomach at the very act of doing so. He forced a placid smile onto his face. And it clicked. Nijima’s little sister. That was the girl. At least it wasn’t a fan. “Might I ask what you and Niijima-san are doing here?” They seemed awfully… close. Goro didn’t know why he didn’t like it, but he sure didn’t.
Amamiya corrected his glasses. “It’s alright, Makoto, it’s just Akechi.” Was he ignoring him? The gall of it. Niijima pried her eyes open and looked around, squinting at the sudden light from the flashlight. She slowly stood up and started straightening out her clothes.
“Oh. My apologies that you had to see that. What are you doing here, Akechi-kun?” She asked.
I fucking asked that first you complete and utter fool. “I don’t mean to be juvenile, Niijima-san, but I believe I asked that first.” Keeping that stupid smile on was a struggle. He couldn’t see Amamiya’s eyes through the glare on his glasses.
There was a rumble from the other hallway, and the rest of Amamiya’s crew entered. Sakamoto, Kitagawa, and Takamaki. So they were all here. The mystery deepens. How the hell did they find out where he lived?
“Ah,” Takamaki clapped her hands together, an attempt to lighten the situation, “We saw the door open and we were worried that the Boss might have fallen or-“
“The door was open?” Akechi interrupted. He knew he should remind Sakura-san more often. And wait- “So you all know Sakura-san, then?”
“What’s it to you?” Sakamoto spit out. He really needed to learn some people skills, Goro thought. He was never going to get anywhere like that. Fine. They were suspicious of him. For once, he couldn’t blame them. As much as he hated showing his hand, revealing anything, especially to someone like Sakamoto, it seemed he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to get more information out of the group.
“Well,” Goro set down the flashlight, now that his eyes had adjusted to the low light, it wasn’t needed. “Seeing as I live here, I’d consider it very much my business.”
Goro could have heard a pin drop in the silence that came after.
“This is… your house?” Niijima-san squeaked out. “We’re so so sorry. We thought this was Boss’s house and-“
Goro had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He held up his hand and interrupted. “It is.”
“But you just said you lived here?” Sakamoto asked, abrasively. Oh, how Goro wished literally any of the other thieves were the ones to speak.
“Come on now, Sakamoto-kun,” Goro said, voice dripping in condescension, “More than one person can live in a house.”
“You-“ Sakamoto started but was interrupted by Niijima.
“Akechi-kun,” She said, “How many people live in this house?”
Goro felt alarm bells go off in his head. So they knew Sakura-san lived here, did that mean they were looking for Futaba? He didn’t answer. They couldn’t know about Futaba.
“Does Futaba live here?” Amamiya asked, running a hand through his messy black hair. Goro’s eyes shot to him. His body tensed up.
“To quote our dear Sakamoto,” Keeping that smile was harder and harder. He let it drop. “’What’s it to you’?”
“We’re looking for her.”
“Why?”
“Do you know her?”
Fucking. So they did know about her. They knew enough to come to their house. To enter their house without even bothering to see if anyone was home. If they knew that much then… but they also didn’t know that Goro lived there too.
“Amamiya,” He said, pointedly ignoring all of the other people in the room. “Considering you have broken into my house, I think I hold the cards here.”
“How do you even know you’re tellin’ the truth?” Sakamoto accused.
Goro rolled his eyes. “Why would I follow you and claim that I live in a house that I do not?”
“He does have a point,” Takamaki pointed out. Ah, he’d always liked her. She seemed to be one of the more sensible of the group. In another life, he’d like to think they could have been friends.
“But-“
“Who’s in there?! Futaba are you alright?!” Ryuji was interrupted by Sakura-san’s sudden appearance by the door. He paused, looked around at the group of teenagers standing in front of him. Well, there went Goro’s plan at keeping them in the dark about Futaba living there. “Oh, Goro. You should have told me you had friends over.”
“They’re not all my friends, Sakura-san,” Goro said lightly, “I came home and they were already inside. They said you left the door unlocked?”
Sakura-san sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. “Must’ve forgotten to lock it. Happens sometimes.” Goro couldn’t stay angry at him. He had taken them in after all, when no one else did, and he’d treated them both right, especially Futaba. “Kid?”
“Yes?” Both Goro and Amamiya answered at the same time. They stared at each other.
Sakura-san chuckled. “Not you, Goro, you’re supposed to be here. Ren, what are you doing in my house?” Hm? Sakura-san knew Amamiya? How? Wait. No. The person that he’d mentioned living in the attic at the café it couldn’t be-
“Ah. Boss.” Niijima smiled. “Does a Futaba live here?”
“You told her, too?” Sakura-san growled at Amamiya. So he wasn’t the one that told them about Futaba, then. Interesting.
Amamiya simply looked apologetic and shrugged.
“Wait, you’re tellin’ me Akechi actually does live here?!” Ryuji interrupted. As always, slow on the uptake. Goro had to stop himself from laughing.
“Cat’s outta the bag then,” Sakura-san sighed. “Yeah, both of them do. Adopted them a few years back. I couldn’t bear to separate them. Siblings are separated enough in the system, I wasn’t going to be a part of it.” He looked around shiftily. “Can we talk about this back at the café?”
No one seemed to hear him, all eyes on Goro.
“You have a sister?” Takamaki asked.
“Ah,” Kitagawa mused, “Hence the protectiveness.”
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’,” Ryuji muttered.
“Sakura Futaba is your sister?” Makoto sounded stunned. “But you- Sis never mentioned-“
‘Cat out of the bag’ indeed. Goro sighed. Goddammit. “Yes. I have a younger sister. No, I never mentioned it because, apologies, it is none of anyone’s business.” The spotlight was a choice that Goro made, not Futaba, and if he could help it, she would never be subjected to it. “Now, can you all please discuss this with Sakura-san elsewhere? I have had quite a long day.” And he needed to check up on Futaba. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d been around so many people. She was almost certainly still in her room, but he wanted to make sure she was alright regardless.
“C’mon guys, he’s right,” Amamiya, ever the voice of reason, said. Motioning for all of the group to follow Sakura-san to the café down the street. Now that Goro could see the raven haired boy’s eyes, he could see the message they carried. ‘We’ll talk later’. Yes, Goro had to agree, they certainly would. Considering they’re sharing a guardian and for some reason, the leader of the Phantom Thieves is looking for his younger sister. He thought they actually had a ‘code’ or something. There’s no way in hell Futaba should even be on their radar.
After he made sure that they were through the gate, Goro went to go fetch his briefcase that he’d left by the wall outside and set it gingerly in the entrance hall. He made his way over to Futaba’s door, with all of its decorations.
He knocked on the door, and made sure to keep his voice low and soft. “Hey, it’s just me.” No need to keep a mask around her. “Sorry about all that. I should’ve been home earlier, but well.” He sighed. “Can I come in?”
No answer. Just a bit of rustling on the other side of the door. At least she was alive, he thought sardonically. He sat down and leaned against the door. She’d answer when she wanted.
God. Goro wished there was something he could do to help her. He knew she had a palace, he’d checked of course. But what good did that do him? The only thing he knew how to do in the Metaverse was kill or drive people insane. He could try to help her, he had once reasoned, but would the risk be worth it? Last time he tried to ‘help’ someone in the Metaverse, they’d both ended up in the system, and then at Wakaba’s shitty brother’s house.
He closed his eyes, remembering the first time he’d seen her. He’d been twelve, she’d been ten, and Wakaba had just picked him up from his most recent (and horrible) foster home, telling him that he had a sister, and Wakaba wasn’t going to replace his mother, but she was at least going to give him a home. That ‘no sibling of her child’ was going to continue going through what he’d gone through. And apologies that it’d taken her so long to find out. Futaba had been so bubbly, so smart, so curious. Big eyes behind even bigger glasses. And for the first time since he’d lost his mother, Goro had felt like he had a home.
But he fucked that up, too huh?
But not Futaba. He wasn’t going to fuck her up. Once he got rid of that shitty bastard, once he ruined him, then things would be better. Goro was prepared to go to jail for that. He’d do anything to make him pay for everything. For all of it.
“I’ll talk to Sakura-san,” Goro continued, “Maybe we can have take out tonight. I wasn’t lying to them, I did have a long day, you know?” He knew he was more talking to himself at this point than another person, but it had to mean something that he was still trying, still reaching out. Still showing that no matter what, he did care. He sat against the door in silence for what felt like an eternity. “Well,” He dusted himself off, “I believe there’s a new episode of Featherman today and-“
The door swung open. Futaba, disheveled, glasses slightly crooked, stood in the doorway. “Goro! You better not watch it without me!”
Goro laughed. “I thought you would have already watched it already.”
She pouted. “I was waiting for you.”
“I appreciate it.” He peeked into her room. A mess as usual. “Living room or?” Never his room. Too many things she could find in there. Futaba was smart, far smarter than even Goro, and he couldn’t risk her finding out what he was doing. She shook her head, her mop of tangled orange hair thrashing from side to side. “Your room it is.” He made room on the bed, in his usual spot, as Futaba set the show up on one of her many computer screens. Futaba leapt back and joined him at her spot next to him.
It was times like these where it felt like things were normal again. When they were just two normal kids. When Wakaba was there.
////
It was late when Sojiro came home. Judging by the bags he was carrying, it seemed he must have stopped by the store on the way back. Explains the time difference; Goro didn’t think it took that long to go from the cafe to the house. Goro was sitting at the table, hair tied back, make up washed off, trying to figure out a math problem.
“Welcome back,” Goro said instinctively, not looking up from his paper. He tapped his pencil, annoyed, on the tabletop. No answer. “Did you find out why they were looking for her?” Or even how they’d found out. But, well, this was Amamiya they were talking about. He seemed to have a way of knowing things, of finding things out. It was part of the thrill being close to him, the risk that he might find out, or hell, even already know, who and what Goro was.
Sakura-san sighed. “I knew I forgot something.” He hung his hat on the rack by the door. “I think I was able to convince them to leave her alone, though. And they all swore they wouldn’t tell anyone about the connection between you two.”
“I appreciate it greatly, Sakura-san.” Hopefully Sakamoto could be more subtle about Goro’s family than he was about them being the phantom thieves. The last thing that Goro, and Futaba, and Sakura-san needed was a bunch of fans showing up at their home. Goro smirked. It might actually help LeBlanc though.
“So,” Sakura-san made his way over to the refrigerator and began placing various bottles and bags inside. “You know Ren?”
Goro stopped tapping his pen. “Amamiya-kun? I do.”
“Didn’t know he lived in the attic?”
“I never asked.”
Sakura-san chuckled. “I’m surprised.” He pulled out a bottle of some sort of juice and poured himself a glass. He lowered his voice, dark eyes darting in the direction of Futaba’s doorway. “She alright?”
Goro turned back to his homework. “As much as ever.”
It felt as if the two of them sighed in unison. Sakura-san kept looking wistfully down the hallway. Goro could understand the feeling.
“How are you doing, kid?” Sakura-san took a sip of his juice, the opaque liquid sloshing around in the glass as he did so. Goro shrugged. “Don’t get those television people working you so hard. If you’ve got a problem with it, come to me, I’ll deal with it.” And Goro knew he was telling the truth. He’d never had a father, but he liked to imagine that if he did, he’d like Sakura-san to be his. Maybe in a way he was, or he could be, but that would have to be in another life. Goro was done getting close to people. Futaba was a… remnant from the time when he was able to trust, able to open up. The only person he could trust, but not wholly. Even she couldn’t know what kind of person he’d become, what he’d done. And Amamiya… Shit. Why did he come to mind? Amamiya was just a target, nothing else. Any feelings he felt towards him were simply jealousy or hatred. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Do not worry,” Goro smiled, plastic, “I will.”
“Good.” Sakura-san set down the nearly empty glass. “I just worry about you kids.”
“I know, Sakura-san,” Goro kept that smile up. A flash of disappointment flittered across Sakura-san’s face ever so briefly. Ah. The name.
The older man finished off his glass and dropped it off in the sink. “I’m heading off. Don’t try to stay up too late, alright kid?” A nod.
“I could say the same to you.”
“Don’t get snippy with me,” There was a crooked smile plastered on his face. He turned down the hall and called towards the ever closed door. “G’night, Futaba.” No response. Sakura-san turned and headed to his bedroom.
It was far past midnight when Goro finally decided to head in for the night. He passed the door to Futaba’s room, the eerie lights from all of her screens glowing underneath the door’s crack. Still awake, it seemed. He rested his hand on the cool wood, pressed his forehead against the door. This was his fault. And he couldn’t figure out how to fix it. If there even was a way to fix it. He’d been to her palace. Once. He knew what her mental state was like and he couldn’t fucking do anything about it.
“Good night, Futaba.”
And with that, he turned, and headed towards his own room, shutting the door behind him.