For a long, long time, Goro Akechi had been content with being a monster. Embraced it, even. Being a good person wasn't his priority. He had blood on his hands, he didn't deny it to himself. He was a horrible, disgusting person who was better off dead. He could live with that until his job was done.
Each day was the same thing. Wake up early, shower, eat, take his medication, head to school, go to the police station to do detective work, report to Shido if needed, maybe travel to Mementos to hunt down any new targets, study, sleep. That's what he did. At least, he was supposed to.
3:18am, gasping for breath, plagued once again by nightmares. Wake up early, check.
Mirrors covered, face up, refusing to look at his body out of disgust. Scrubbing, burning, skin bright red and scarred. He only looked at his face to apply layers of makeup over scars and shadows plaguing his skin. Shower, check.
Cup of coffee, watching the news. His interview from two days ago comes on, sickly sweet and stranger. He throws up and dumps the rest. Eat, check.
Medication taken with a glass of water, hoping it'll stay down while the effects kick in. It doesn't always. He can't stomach even water sometimes nowadays. Check.
Subway taken to school, crowded, cramped, he feels sick. Somehow he manages to keep himself steady. He passes as an honors student, highest grades and fakest smile. The girls giggling about him make him want to scream. The attention is almost as revolting as he is. Check.
Two new targets from Shido, he's thankful the meeting passed without a hitch. Last time a guard punched him in the gut simply for speaking too soft. It was not much quieter than usual, if any at all. Shido had been in a bad mood that day. Check.
Mementos was same as always. He reveled in killing weak shadows, no harm done from it, having a bit of control without consequence was the easiest part of his day to pretend he enjoyed. He watched the light leave one person's eyes, begging forgiveness, and sanity leave the other. They were small enough in the world that the news likely wouldn't report much if anything, maybe if the psychotic breakdown caused panic. He could block it now, but once he was at his apartment their screams would haunt him. Ehara Yakumo. Yamataka Izo. He never forgot names. He tried. Check.
Another shower, scrubbing every time he was touched that day from his body. Shadows grabbing for him in the metaverse, arms brushing his on the subways, the girl who fell on top of him and pretended it was an accident. It never touched his skin, all but his head obscured by cloth, but he could feel it hours later. Eventually, the water at his feet turned red. He took out his schoolwork after, 1am, doing what he could. Exhaustion crept up eventually, and he passed out on his notes. Check.
4:28
Goro woke up to pain once again. His stomach hurt so bad. He took deep breaths, shaky, in and out. Was it worth five minutes of satisfaction only to be hunched over a toilet once again, burning from the inside? He used to think it was. Goro wished he could eat without sickness. But try as he might, images of those he'd destroyed would always prevent it.
A small groan slipping through his lips, tired limbs pushing himself from his chair, Goro limped to the kitchen. He back hurt, curtesy of his sleeping position. His stomach hurt, curtesy of his eating habits. Ribs, feet, head, chest, he wasn't quite sure if anything didn't ache.
No shock to him, there was barely anything in his fridge. He was pleasantly surprised to learn he had half a leftover crepe, however. Sweet food tended to be the only thing he could take. At least the calorie count was high, and it could provide momentary happiness.
Goro tried so hard to eat normally. Picking up sweets on his way to work, grabbing dinner at fancy restaurants. In public, it was usually fine. Distractions were everywhere, people were kind to him, and he could pretend that every piece of himself wasn't a façade. His intent was never to starve himself, he genuinely tried to maintain his health. Try as he might, he just couldn't do it.
He dragged his fingers through his hair, sighing. He had an interview at a TV station today, which meant he'd miss school. Trading a bad thing for something that had potential to be worse. Wonderful.
School meant girls and the occasional boy asking him out, to which he'd politely decline. That was okay, even if he didn't like it. But once in a while, they just wouldn't give up. He'd had stalkers, once a girl had even gone as far as to try poisoning him. He hated the spotlight. He hated people.
Interviews meant he couldn't say a word out of line. He had to be perfect in every single regard, or face consequence. Even if he didn't know why his response hadn't been right. More than once he'd dealt with inappropriate questions and comments as well, especially the last interview he'd done. Now that he was legally an adult, he couldn't actually do anything to stop it. He always had to redirect the conversation politely, smiling while people twice his age and older commented on his looks without the restraint they pretended to have when they still had to view him as a child.
He couldn't keep thinking about that. He wanted to at least have some food in him. He'd passed out during an interview once, only once, and he would never let it happen again. It had happened over commercial break, thankfully, or he would have been in even more trouble.
Goro took his medicine first. They were for his depression, and while it didn't quite feel like they were doing anything, he'd run out once for just a few days and only fear got him out of bed. He always made sure to keep a steady supply since. Of course, he knew a few pills wouldn't solve his problems, but they kept him alive. He should only need them another year.
Due to his requirement to know about what was currently going on, he turned on the news.
June 9th, that's what the date read. Oh dear, had he really only been publicly an adult for a week? Well, his relationship with time had never been a close one. There was a reason he kept so many reminders. Speaking of, his phone chimed, altering him of his interview that day. He didn't really need an alarm, never asleep past five as it was now. The daily reminders he set would wake him up even if he didn't on his own.
Goro watched for around an hour, as he often did, before showering. It was a bit past 6:30 when he got out, and he didn't have to be at the TV station until 11. He had a few hours of down time. Oftentimes that meant bouldering, which helped keep him in shape as well as keep his mind busy. Unfortunately, he didn't quite have enough time.
He switched through a few channels, searching for something interesting enough to play in the background. One he landed on was playing an old Featherman movie. It had been a long time since he'd seen it.
Goro used to love the Featherman shows. As a young child, he'd beg his mom to turn them on for him daily. He was certain he'd watched every episode and every movie at least ten times. Likely more. He'd been upset when she wouldn't buy him the toys. He got a cheap toy ray gun that he adored, though, and he'd play pretend whenever he wasn't glued to the television. It was a nice memory. He didn't have many of those.
He turned off the TV. He couldn't let that side of him show. One where, for once, he wasn't Goro Akechi, detective prince, Shido's personal hitman. Just a normal kid, watching his favorites show on TV, not caring about anything else. He didn't have time to be that person. That person couldn't exist.
Cycling it is.
Goro applied his makeup, covering up scars, freckles, and anything that didn't fit his detective prince persona. He looked like a stranger sometimes when he wasn't wearing any, so used to seeing the person he had to be. Before leaving his apartment, he put a hoodie on and pulled the hood up to avoid recognition.
There was a sense of freedom in his legs burning as he pushed himself to move faster than he should, no destination in mind. A false one, true, but he'd take what he could get. He slowed down once he was struggling to breathe. The perk of physical activity was that he couldn't think of anything else. All focus went to keeping his body moving. It was one of the only things he enjoyed simply because he was able to enjoy it.
After around an hour, he took a break, sitting at a park with his bicycle on the ground beside him. His mom first taught him to ride one around a decade ago now, three years before she died. He missed her greatly, still. He'd been young still when she died, but old enough to remember. Not quite old enough to understand why she wasn't waking up, but he knew something was wrong.
Eight years, six months, seventeen days. He went to the shrine on the anniversary of her death to pray for forgiveness from his mother, and to forgive her, too. He cared more about that day than any other, his birthday included. After all, she was the reason he did all of this, right? Wasn't it revenge, for her?
Who was he kidding? It was about revenge two years ago, now it was more fear than anything. Fear, guilt, anger still, and just plain cowardice. The truth was, from the moment Shido put a gun in his hand and ordered him to kill a woman who's name he'd never heard, he wanted to back out. He was a kid in far over his head and terrified of what would happen if he didn't do as told. Some of it was desire for his father to recognize him, he knew.
Goro sighed. His motives didn't matter now. Not really. He was stuck, reasons be damned, he had to enact this revenge. He'd never be free if he didn't. The only other option was to end it on his own terms, but damn it, he wasn't going to let that happen. The whole point was to get back on Shido for causing his mother to end her life, he wouldn't suffer the same fate.
He headed back to his apartment to get ready before leaving for the interview. It was a TV station he'd been to a few times before, and he'd heard that a high school was doing a social studies trip there, so there'd be some students watching his interview. He was...not excited, at all. Hopefully he'd be able to slip out before being bombarded.
It seemed like the moment he walked in he was grabbed and whisked away for makeup. It didn't take long, just a touch up, as always. He knew the women who's job it was to apply it were grateful, and he'd been complimented on his skills more than once. He felt fortunate that he'd never gotten questions. From the looks he'd gotten in the past, he knew some of them had suspicions.
Oh, dear, he'd forgotten to eat. Of course, it had completely slipped his mind. Just his luck, he supposed. Perhaps it was for the best. He had a feeling he'd be a bit ill by the time this interview was over.
Makeup and other preparation done, Goro slipped out and took a less conspicuous route to the set he'd be on. He'd also be able to kill a few minutes out of sight, which would be nice. He overheard a conversation, passively hearing mention of pancakes with little other context. He was hungry, wasn't he? He couldn't feel it much now.
He stopped. Four voices, they pretty young. Most likely the visiting students. They sounded like they were friends. A pang of longing struck him. Niijima-San had told him he should make some friends, hang out with people his age. He'd simply brushed her off. Surely it wouldn't hurt, though, to make an attempt at some small talk, right? He stepped around the corner, adorning his detective prince smile, and made a comment about how they were wearing Shujin uniforms and how he was just passing by and thought it polite to say hello.