#taotdd

Five years after the fall of Maruki's reality, Akira has a chance encounter with a certain detective.

“Akechi?” Kurusu Akira asks, concern evident in his tone. In his right hand is a plate with omelettes, in his left a can of coffee, but he places both on the kitchen counter and carefully approaches Goro. “Are you okay?” Goro swallows. His breath is still coming out ragged, and suddenly there’s a thick lump in his throat, rendering him unable to speak. He blinks once, twice, and then something wet trickles down his cheek.

Metal clanks against the floor when Akira drops the spoon, taking a step forward. Akechi startles, his eyes widening, but before he can flinch away— Akira wraps his arms around Akechi, pulling him into a hug. 

Akechi whips around at that, glaring daggers at Akira.  “Miss me with that sappy shit,” he spits. “All I want these days is something I can never have. You wouldn’t fucking get it, so just leave me alone.”

“Akechi!” Morgana screeches with such an intensity that it makes Akira flinch, jumping towards the body and swatting it with his paws, but the man laying face-down on the floor stays unmoving.  God fucking damn it. Akira kneels down at Akechi’s side, turning him on his back — at the very least, there are no visible injuries. 

Suddenly, Goro sees red. He can’t quite remember what happens next. It’s only when the assailant is lying face-down on the ground, wailing in pain as Goro stomps down on his back and pulls back his arm until it’s threatening to snap, and Kurusu is tugging on his sleeve, whispering a faint “It’s okay, Akechi,” that Goro regains some clarity again.

“Well then,” he smirks at Akira who has sunk down on the chair opposite of him, and places his last pawn on the board. “Show me what you’ve got, Joker.”