Work Text:
There are 24 hours in a day, and Akechi Goro works for 23 of them.
By day, Akechi Goro oozes charisma. One of his well fabricated smiles can disarm the people around him which makes him a very easy person to digest. This is only amplified by his vast range of knowledge on philosophy, food, and criminology mixed with his seemingly friendly and polite demeanor.
On top of that, he takes proper care of his hair, nails, skin, and clothes. He has excellent aim when it comes to darts. He’s learned, but appears to be humble, blowing off compliments with the reassurance that there’s a lot he still does not know.
Some say his ability to be charming, attractive, and intelligent is inhuman. Some say he’s god’s favorite. Regardless, many would call him a perfect celebrity. It’s an act he upholds both in public and online via his foodie blog.
There isn’t ever a boring day in his life, but on his slower days, he’s able to enjoy some free time in Kichijoji.
The lavish strawberry tart and latte that arrive at his table are exquisite to look at. The fresh strawberries taunt him, as he fights back the urge to immediately devour it. He restrains himself enough to take a few photos for his blog, as he becomes acutely aware of the people watching him. Well, if it’s a show they want, it’s a show they’ll get.
Soon enough, photos of him eating the tart surface online along with various comments on his appearance, manners, and overall fanservice. The numbers on his food blog have been going up as well. This should allow him to be able to access more parts of the Metaverse; however, that’s something to confirm at a later date.
The apartment he lives in is unassuming. It’s the room his overly zealous neighbors see when they drop off “leftovers”, their excuse to talk to an up and coming celebrity without being weird, so he tries to make it seem like he inhabits the space. A simple worn-out couch, coffee table littered with little knick-knacks, art prints, and jazz records are enough to fill the living space and not raise any alarms amongst the gossip-thirsty neighbors regarding his lifestyle.
His bedroom is filled with mountains of books with too many sticky notes sticking out of the pages all over his bed and desk. Some legal, some philosophical, and a few stray mangas are stored in a container under his bed, not that he’d ever confess to owning those. Empty coffee cans and dirty clothes are scattered over the floor.
His closet is well-organized. A row of perfectly ironed jackets, vests, pants, and shirts line the rack. He stripped himself of his pleasant clothes and into a sleek black suit amongst the cacophony of crushed aluminum clacking against his foot and the floor.
Oddly enough, the crunch of cans makes him feel at peace. A flash of a room covered in beer cans with a brunette hunched over cleaning enters his mind. The beginnings of nostalgia and despair begin in his gut, but he shakes the thought out of his head.
He has things to do tonight.
He can’t let those thoughts drown him.
With a reluctant sigh, he grabbed a black briefcase and went out the door.
A sigh escaped Akechi’s lips as the body in front of him went limp. Fresh tears falling from its eyes, onto the blood soaked ground below. Newly lifeless eyes stared at Akechi as he removed his silencer and began prepping the body for…well, himself in the morning.
Tonight’s target was an heir to the biggest hospital chain in Tokyo. The man had gotten on Shido’s bad side. Something about taking some woman to bed? Was it that? It doesn’t matter; it’s juvenile and debauched.
The stench of alcohol filled his nostrils as he moved the head forward, examining the blood splatter and grey-matter behind it before placing it back where it was. He pulled out the man’s phone, put it inside a plastic bag and smashed it before throwing it into his briefcase for a proper disposal.
There was something missing. Oh! The casings. He quickly picked them up and reassessed the crime scene. The stench of alcohol, execution-style homicide, and missing phone that can be explained away as lost in drunken stupor or motive. Yes, he can say that tomorrow.
Satisfied with his plan, Akechi cleaned his blood stained shoes, and gathered his belongings before nonchalantly walking out of the alleyway.
A half hour later, fresh coffee warmed his gloved hands and organs as he walked down the chilly streets happy he had time to catch tonight’s performance at Jazz Jin. It had been a few weeks since he’s gone to the club, and he’s been itching for one of Muhen’s colorful creations.
The buzzing in his pocket immediately soured his excitement, and he let out an anguished groan. The burner phone in his pocket suddenly became just as infuriating as the person who was calling him. With all humane hopes and excitement prematurely destroyed, he answered in a flat tone.
“Yes, sir.”
An uproar could be heard on the other side of the line. This was odd. He never called around people.
“Is it done?”
“Yes, sir.”
He waited for Shido to end the call, but instead he barked an order to be ready in an hour and ended the call.
Grumbling, Akechi made a beeline for his apartment where a sleek black car was already waiting for him outside. One hour, my ass. He left his briefcase inside his apartment before entering the vehicle. Once inside, Akechi noticed an envelope on the seat with his orders and a change of clothes for the night.
Tonight’s festivities were held in a luxurious private estate owned by a very successful mogul and devoted supporter of Shido. Garish displays of wealth decorated the halls, leading guests towards the festivities.
He’s always hated Shido’s fundraisers. One, for the lofty, cultish ideals that these people, if you can call them that, were fanatical about, and two, Akechi Goro can only socialize for so long without getting exhausted. Yes, he loved attention, but socializing at these specific events always made him wish he lived in a sewer. Luckily, the election was two months off, so this was probably the last big one until it’s curtains.
All he could do now was socialize with these rodents and gather potential blackmail Shido can use to strong-arm himself to better heights.
“Shido, what would I have to do for you to lend me your little prince over there?”
An acidic taste shot up his throat hearing the lecherous request. The heiress talking at him didn't bat an eye at the comment and continued talking about how microcurrent facials saved her…marriage? Affair? Affairs?
He smiled at the woman as she kept blabbering while keeping an ear out on the conversation behind him, trying to keep the bile from spilling out.
“It's nothing like that.” Shido retorted, almost disgusted and offended at the thought.
“Oh? A shame. I'd kill to have a handsome boy to defile.”
Keep smiling. Act like you didn't hear that. Don’t break his neck. Be pleasant. Don't let yourself falter. You've worked hard. It’s almost payday.
“Haven't you?”
“Now, now. It wasn't my fault the house burned down and left the little one alive.”
Boisterous laughter echoed in his ears, and all he could do was keep his pleasant smile, hoping it’s intact enough to hide the murderous urge he held in that moment.
Entering the mementos in the wee hours of the morning is therapeutic. Donning his black and blue striped outfit, red blade, and black mask, he feels a shift in the area. He goes down into the depths of mementos where he finds the black wall that prevented him from exploring further.
Upon sensing his presence, the door opens, allowing him to venture deeper. Tailing the Phantom Thieves did have its benefits in terms of learning how to navigate this labyrinth.
The orange-red area isn’t much different from past areas. The red veins that are rooted in the walls and railroad tracks slightly illuminate the darkness alongside moving red eyes on the black blobs that preside in this domain.
They make eye contact with him, and both parties dash at each other. Akechi’s red blade clashes with the blob as it materializes into a demon…on a toilet?!
“Hey sonny boy, make a deal with me, and I won’t hurt you too bad.”
“Sorry, I’d rather hurt you too bad”, was all Akechi said before he lunged at the demon. Blasts of Eigaon exploded in the area, knocking Akechi back a bit from the recoil of the demon’s deflection of curse based attacks.
The spurts of curse attacks stopped and were replaced with the clinging of metal hitting a toilet bowl, followed by piercing screeches until one final anguished scream echoed in the halls.
Akechi locked eyes with a few more red-eyed blobs. The group ran at him, as did he.
Fountains of curse, bless, and elemental attacks soon lit up the dark halls of the desolate subway system. Piercing screams and maniacal laughter alongside the sounds of clashing metals echoed off the walls, alerting demons to either cower in fear or rise to the challenge.
At the middle of this challenge was one feral Crow, a wicked grin on his face, bloodthirsty for more. Anything in his way was quickly out of it, and at this point, not even the rustling jingle of chains could scare him, for a split second he wondered if he could take on the beast on his own.
The thought quickly exited his head as a wave of hatted challengers approached him. Oh, they looked strong. A plethora of arrows rained down on Crow as he did his best to deflect them with his blade, making an opening to make a lethal attack. The adrenaline coursed through his body, excited to ram his sawed blade through this beast.
A sharp alarm rang followed by an audible groan and a puff of smoke that filled the area. When it cleared, Akechi Goro was boarding the train to the police station, not a hint of the bloodthirsty beast could be found under that pleasant boy facade.
There are 24 hours in a day, and Akechi Goro works for 23 of them. However, in that 24th hour, he finds some semblance of peace that carries him into the next day.