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It shouldn’t be him here, and yet, here Goro is.
Something is strange about Maruki’s palace when he’s been invited. There is no one bustling around, no shadows nor ‘patients’. It’s night, which probably helps, but Goro doesn’t trust it, either. He keeps a hand on his sword the whole time, the red glassy blade feels good that way. It’s a gift from Akira, and Goro never asks where it came from, but he knows it was made just for him, and he knows that it wasn’t cheap, either.
He moves through the palace quickly, eyes darting, looking for anything that might tell him where Akira is.
Because Akira is here in Maruki’s palace.
Goro isn’t happy about that, but he understands that Akira didn’t choose it. He knows that Akira, for all of his faults, isn’t stupid enough to enter the palace alone. Maruki’s message asking him to come all but confirms that, too. He’s nervous about that, and about how this is going to go.
When he reaches the top of the palace, Maruki is waiting for him. Goro’s anger rockets up numerous notches at the sight of the smarmy asshole. There’s frosted glass behind him, and he’s lounging in a plush chair as he watches for Goro, and as he smiles.
“It’s good to see you, Akechi-kun,” he says.
“Cut the shit,” Goro growls, sword already drawn. “Where is he?”
“In good hands,” Maruki says, smiling with too-white teeth. “I wanted to talk to you, though, just us for the moment.”
“Why?” Goro asks, the curiosity evident.
“Because you know as much as I do, that you and Akira deserve better than you’ve received. You’ve worked so hard, Goro. Your plan was ruined, but you deserve much more.”
“When you’re defeated, it won’t matter,” Goro says. He’s long ago figured out that he shouldn’t be alive, that he’s part of Maruki’s unnatural fake utopia. His memories are spotty, and the look on Akira’s face when it’s brought up says it all. He plans on enjoying the life while it’s here, and moving on peacefully when they are victorious.
“You’d rather disappear than live in my world. I don’t understand, honestly. Why not take advantage and be happy for once?”
“It’s a lie, and you’re insane,” Goro spits at him, rage boiling. “Neither Akira or I will live with this.”
Maruki cocks his head, then stands from the chair, holding his hands together behind his back as he starts strutting from one side of the space to the other, in front of the frosted glass. “But you want to,” he says.
“Nothing in this world is for me,” Goro says, instantly.
“No?” Maruki asks, pausing his steps to look at the glass behind him. “But I could give you what you want, Akechi-kun. We never got to talk like I’d like, but I’ve figured out what might make you happy.”
Goro’s eyes narrow, but then he takes an automatic step back as the glass becomes clear and he’s met with Akira on the other side of the glass.
It’s obvious that Akira cannot see them through what is certainly mirrored glass. He’s fighting shadows, personae flicking behind him and dagger moving with his usual grace and careful precision. Each one that explodes in death makes Akira smirk, but Goro can read the situation- Akira has been fighting for some time. His chest heaves with exertion, his long coat ripped and tattered, and his armor dented.
But he’s fighting all the same, and when the shadows are gone, he starts attacking the glass instead, teeth bared in a snarl and anger evident.
“What’s your point?” Goro grits out.
“I know what you want, Akechi-kun. I thought I brought you back for him, and you let me bring you back to have him in return.”
Maruki smirks as Goro flinches, as though struck. “Excuse me?” he thunders.
“Oh, oh don’t act shocked, Akechi-kun. I’m powerful, I’m on my way to god-hood, but I am not strong enough to bring back the dead. Oh no, no no no. You wanted to come back from hiding in the Metaverse, and really, it would be so much easier for me-” he pauses, looking back at the glass room where more shadows poof into place and Akira’s fight is renewed, “-If you help me a little.”
“I’ll never help you,” Goro declares. He’s alive, and never died. “Neither will he.”
“He’s only fighting me so hard because of you,” Maruki says evenly. “I want Kurusu-kun to be happy most of all. He’s my key, my perfect subject, and I’ve realized something.”
“What?” Goro asks.
“You being happy is key to his own contentment.”
The shadows are defeated and Akira is panting. He pauses, and Goro can almost feel his gaze, despite being sure Akira can’t see him. But there is something in that gaze that makes Goro shiver himself.
Akira screams when Azathoth’s tentacles appear and wrap around him. There’s one around his throat, another his waist, more of them pinning his arms back behind his back as he kicks and struggles violently. He’s yelling in rage, fighting like a wild animal caught in a trap. Goro is entranced by the sight.
He has imagined Akira like this in the past, an untamed beast that only Goro can tame. Akira is the other side of his coin, the only one who can ever match him in intellect, the only one that can ever leave him speechless. For all that Akira is a sentimental fool, it makes Goro’s stomach squeeze and his heart speed up when he thinks about Akira as being pulled to his level.
Screeching in unmitigated rage at Maruki for his imprisonment is undoubtedly Goro’s level.
“What are you doing?” Goro demands.
“Making you an offer,” Maruki answers,
“I’ll kill you!” Goro roars, calling Loki to attack.
But he pauses as Maruki shifts and the glass is lowered. Akira looks up, smiling when he sees Goro.
“Crow?” he asks. “What are doing here?”
“I can make a world where he’s yours, Akechi-kun. Kurusu-kun loves to take care of other people. Can you imagine a life where he’s there when you get home from work? You can talk about your cases, his latest flower arrangements… He’ll be a perfect pet for you.”
Akira jerks, mouth open in shock. But before he can speak, a tentacle wraps around his mouth, muffling him.
“You’re insane,” Goro hisses. He hates the mental images that pop up into his mind. He knows how Akira is, and he knows how much he has yearned to win against his rival. He wants to push Akira down when they fight, to take what is his, because Akira is already his-
“No. I know what you like,” Maruki answers. “And I know how much he’d love it too. He’s so tired. It would be the perfect rest for him. I could mold him into the perfect person for you. He molds himself for everyone else already. He yearns to be what you want. Why not, Goro? Why not let me do this for you both?”
“Mold him?” Goro asks.
“Kurusu-kun is so headstrong. But I bet with a little work I could program him to be a little more flexible. You won’t have to fight him ever again. He’ll listen to you, obey what you want.”
Goro makes a sound. “I’d never fight him again?”
“Never. I could even make modifications if that’s been a barrier. Kusuru-kun would make a very pretty girl.”
Akira is kicking and struggling again, screaming behind the gag. But Goro is struck dumb by the idea of Akira splayed out for him, all pale skin and bright eyes. He’d lick his lips before devouring his rival into a mess of bites and bruises and hickeys. He’d keep Akira chained to the bed. He’d-
His eyes meet Akira’s, and Goro realizes that his rival is afraid. Akira’s kicking his legs as more tentacles wrap around him, cocooning him. There is rage there, still, and Akira is still struggling, but Goro’s mouth is dry and he can’t move, too stunned by the mental images pouring through him. Akira settling into his lap with that smile of his, Akira flushed bright, Akira on his knees, worshipping Goro, Akira, Akira, Akira-
And then he jerks, realizing that he’s summoned Loki, and he is so angry, he can’t even breathe.
“No.”
The megaloda spell hits Azathoth true and strong, and Akira is dropped even as Maruki hisses, his persona banished for the moment. Akira is limp on the ground, stunned from the shock.
“Akechi-kun-” Maruki starts.
“I’m going to rip you apart,” Goro growls. “How dare you.” Loki is still behind him, blade spinning, and he sneers as Maruki steps back. “If you truly knew what I wanted you’d know that I want to win by my own power.”
Maruki’s persona reforms behind him, and he swallows. “I wanted to make you happy. How could it not make you both happy?”
“You utter idiot. If I wanted a brain-dead doll, I’d flirt with one of the girls that follow me. That you think I’d want my only equal like that is disgusting.” Goro is still enraged, but collecting Akira and getting out is his priority. He lets loose another almighty spell, shattering glass and flooring.
Maruki escapes while he’s helping Akira up in the aftermath. He’s warm against Goro, and obviously exhausted, but he’s silent until they exit the Palace.
He keeps a firm hold on Goro’s hand, squeezing. “Goro-”
“Don’t read into it,” Goro says. “I didn’t consider it for a moment, you fool. I would never-”
Akira pulls him in for a hug, cutting him off and making him freeze. Goro can’t breathe again. He’s frozen, his brain is sputtering nonsense. But slowly, he hugs back, pressing his face against Akira’s shoulder, in the crook of his neck. There’s some form of shame, but Akira sighs.
“Let me make you a coffee, and we can talk. Please,” he asks.
Goro swallows, then nods.
There’s still the mental images that want to pop up. In Leblanc, Akira coaxes them out of him. He still manages to surprise Goro by smiling.
“I don’t need to be brainwashed for any of that,” he teases. Goro is frozen. But Akira leans in, warm breath on Goro’s neck. “What Maruki doesn’t understand is that the fight is half the fun,” he says.
And Goro shudders, but knows that he can’t expect anything different from Akira, his other side of the coin, his perfect rival. His, hard-fought, not given like a bribe.
Slowly, he smiles.