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“I mean, seriously Akechi. Why?”
Pay attention, someone is talking to you . What was the context again? Hmm... vegetables. Celery? Carrots. Why would they be talking about carrots, where are they again? Ah yes, a bakery, waiting to meet up with the rest of the Phantom Thieves. So that must mean Sakamoto is commenting on Goro’s food choice.
“Carrot cake is an underappreciated dessert, Sakamoto.” Goro explains. “It’s soft and moist, the cream cheese icing providing a sweet contrast to the otherwise raw carrot flavor.”
Sakamoto giggles like the child he is. “Moist...”
“It's just a word, Ryuji.” Thank you, Kurusu, for also recognizing your friend’s immaturity.
“I'm just saying it's a weird choice. Of food,” Sakamoto tries to clarify, as if that’d help. “Me, I'm an old-fashioned kind of dessert guy.” Goro makes an effort not to snort into his coffee.
“I prefer fruit desserts.” Kurusu says. “Especially strawberry sh—”
“—it’s just, you could have picked anything, and you chose vegetables. Just sayin’, man.”
That's right. It is just a word, but some words do hold power.
It was Kurusu’s idea to do this ‘bonding’ after Goro blackmailed them. What a thoughtful guy. The three of them were the first to arrive and claimed a large booth, Kurusu sitting alone on one side, Goro stuck with Sakamoto on the other. Morgana is apparently taking a catnap back at Leblanc. Strange for him to miss out.
“You don’t have to eat it, Ryuji.” Kurusu reigns Sakamoto in before he can make a scene. “I ordered a variety of desserts to share. I even got pancakes.” He smiles at Goro, as if in on a secret.
It was one of the few personal details that Goro shared with Kurusu and now Kurusu is trying to play nice, as if sharing favorite foods suddenly makes them the best of friends. The waiter brings several desserts to the table and Goro picks at his carrot cake without further comment.
The first thing Sakura does when she arrives is push Kurusu further into the booth, trapping him in the corner, followed closely by Takamaki. Okumura politely asks Sakamoto and Goro to move so she can scoot in, and Niijima and Kitagawa slide in after her, leaving Sakamoto and Goro on the ends. The girls immediately gang up on Kurusu, and since Sakamoto is eavesdropping on them, Goro strikes up a conversation with the only available conversational partner.
“Kitagawa, what are you painting these days?”
“It’s a case study of redemption, depicting how the light from some can bring out the same brightness in another.”
“That's…” Obscure? “… quite complex.”
“Indeed.”
“Ann, what the heck?” Sakamoto gestures to the icing on his cheek that Goro assumes was put there on purpose.
Takamaki sticks out her tongue. “Serves you right.”
Goro represses a shiver but fortunately no one is focused on him, not even Kitagawa, whose attention turned towards the food.
What a pain. Why does he have to put up with this? He’d never admit that he finds the Thieves tolerable in smaller groups—he almost enjoys talking with Kurusu—yet all together like this, it’s as if they don't have a single care in the world, completely and utterly unaware of the danger surrounding them.
“Frick,” Sakamoto grumbles as he wipes the icing off.
“Frak!” Sakura exclaims.
“Frak?” Kitagawa inquires.
Are they doing this on purpose? Do they know how awful the buildup is? He almost wishes one of them would spit it out already so his clumsiness brought about by his weakness will pass while he’s still sitting down. It’s the same anticipation he feels when an Eigaon comes at him in the Metaverse, the curse rendering him useless.
He interjects to distract them from their dangerous, monosyllabic conversation. “Kurusu, are you alright over there?” Goro teases.
“No, I’m not. Akechi, please help me.”
“I’m afraid you’re on your own. I'm sure the girls are justified in their line of questioning. In fact, I’d like to know your secrets too...”
“Traitor.” Though Kurusu says the word in jest, it still strikes Goro as accurate. Goro is certainly capable of betrayal, but he’s now faced with a choice of who to betray: his long-time patron and world’s-worst father? Or...
“It’s okay Akechi. We’ll still have you,” are Kurusu’s last words before he is surrounded again.
...a group of kids, just trying to make life worth something?
“Ew, Ryuji, don’t eat that off your face.” Sakura scrunches her nose.
“Gotta make the best of a shi—take situation.” A stern eye from Niijima makes him reconsider his word choice in public. He wipes more icing from his face. “Frank.”
“It’s frak, not Frank. Like from that one show.”
“Like what show—bullheel!” Sakamoto exclaims as more cake finds his head.
“Guys, we shouldn’t start a food fight in public,” Niijima cautions while simultaneously reaching for another piece of cake.
Goro slips down lower into the booth, the others chatting and almost-cursing and not noticing his misery.
“What is the etymology of ‘bullheel?’”
“I don’t think it’s is a real word, Yusuke,” Okumura comments. “Perhaps Ryuji was thinking of bullsh—”
“Darnit, Akira, confess! Who have you been texting so much lately?”
Goro’s completely slouched down in the seat now, hiding behind a menu. He missed his chance to leave earlier and is no longer confident he can move without tripping over his own feet.
He was right. His weakness has already made him a clumsy mess.
The end happens like this:
Goro's foot loses contact with the floor, causing him to kick out at Sakamoto across from him in what Goro can only assume is a tender spot, because Sakamoto’s eyes go wide and Goro sees what’s coming. Goro sits up with the intention of putting his hands over Sakamoto’s mouth preventing him from uttering those dying, cursed words, but in his uncoordinated haste, Goro kicks again.
“GOD %^&#@ DAMNIT!!! &^@** THE HELL?? FUCKING #$&%*@ SHIT!!”
The café goes quiet. Goro collapses on the table.
He never stood a chance.