Work Text:
Squeeze~
The hands Goro had around his own throat tightened and then relaxed, momentarily blocking air from his lungs, before releasing just as quickly, the burn of oxygen that had been previously denied filling his brain. This type of thing always made him woozy. He relaxed his hands, bringing them down to press on his own stomach. Lying on his back on his own bed in his crappy ass apartment after work. He pressed again on his stomach, the growling the only noise aside from his slightly rushed breathing.
How long since I’ve eaten? Was his first thought. The answer? A few days. Well, that long since he’s kept something down. The emptiness wears Goro’s only constant companion. Aside from the pain, that is. He places his hands back on his throat. Squeezes again. Release. Squeeze. Release. He stands up. Goes to the bathroom.
The mirror is cracked, reflecting his body all wrong. But there is a large piece, large enough to do his makeup over the bags from thirty-six hour days and bruises from too many different things. Burns line his hands and arms. Shido’s bastards of yes-men made a game of it today. Perfect little lines, running up and down his skin, waiting to see which one could make his smiley mask crack first.
His hands place themselves on his throat, almost automatically. The control Goro had over his own body felt like it was gone, like another being was possessing him and he was along for the ride. It would make sense. He’s already given up most of his free will to his stupid half-baked plan to make his asshole father feel the same way he did. The eternal pain and suffering. Goro can’t say whether he also deserves it or not. He lines his fingers up with the bruises decorating his neck. Shido left these ones this time. A sneer pulled itself across Goro’s face. That bastard finally wanted to play the game of who broke him first. He can remember how his mouth ached to open into a scream when he was lifted by his own father.
His hands flop down, done of this little game he was playing. He picks up his toothbrush, crusty with dried toothpaste. He brushes his teeth quickly, wanting to go to bed. It was Saturday. He didn’t have to do his work until tomorrow. He hears the jingle of a text from his phone in the other room. Sighing, he spits out the toothpaste and wipes his mouth, walking to the room.
Akira: Hey, we’re all going to Sae’s palace tomorrow. Wanna come with?
Goro stares blankly at the screen. Maybe back in June he felt some kinship with Akira. But now, all he wants to do is give that fucker a solid kick between the legs. Like he has a choice, when his whole life’s purpose rests upon making sure this bastard is dead.
Akechi:Of course!! I would love to come with!
Akira:Alright then. I’ll make preparations for all of us.
Goro sighs, tossing his phone to the foot of his bed. He unties his tie, tossing it over his headboard. A hand gets shoved under his pillow, groping mindlessly for cold metal. Bingo!
Tugging out the gun, Goro checks the cartridge to make sure all the bullets are still there. He drags a finger down them, counting each individual shot. A smile pulls itself across his face as he tucks the gun back where he pulled it out from. He keeps it there for emergencies. Or if the need to shoot himself ever arises.
His phone starts ringing. He sighs, falling onto his back and rolling on his side to grope around for the stupid hunk of junk.
He answers swiftly. “Hello. Goro Akechi speaking.”
“Hey Akechi!” Akira responds cheekily through the speaker. “You still okay with drinking coffee in the Metaverse, yeah?”
Goro sighs. “Yes, Kurusu. How many times have I answered that question for you?”
“Too many times to count!” Akira lightly snickers. He can vaguely hear coffee being poured in the background. “Anything you aren’t okay with eating? There’s a ton of different things that can be used to restore health or sp!”
“I’m not putting anything in my mouth that isn’t food.” Goro replies.
“Dang. Was hoping for a chance.” Now Akira’s laughing. “Kidding, kidding. Anyway, that was it! Thanks, dude!”
“Good bye, Kurusu.” Goro hangs up just as fast as he picked up.
Grabbing the one book he currently had borrowed from the nearby library, he walks out into the small room beside the kitchen that was supposed to function as a living room, but seeing as all the furniture he currently had in there was a lamp, he wasn’t spending much time in there. He flicks said lamp on, the bulb flickering and producing a low buzz. The light was dim, but it was all he was able to afford with his measly paycheck from the police. Sure, Shido paid him a bit. But certainly not enough to be used without it being suspicious where he got all that money.
His stomach growled and groaned from emptiness. But he could live. He didn’t have any food currently, and no restaurants were open at this hour. The only place he could go was… a convenience store.
——-
Brightly lit and always cheery, this place would be the bane of Goro’s existence. The employee behind the counter looked like she felt the same. Goro wandered the short aisles, snagging a canned coffee and turkey sandwich. Cheap, but not enough to feed himself. He scanned the aisles, meandering over to the tiniest produce section he had ever seen. He grabbed an apple with minimal bruising. The lights produced a high sound, lyricless music hardly doing enough to cover up the buzz or the sounds of a mother the next aisle over. He had to walk by them to get to the register.
The mother was short, and from the angle Goro was at, looked to be in her early twenties. Her child was maybe five or six. His hair was brown. Light brown. His sweater was a bright red, and his pants a brown like his hair. Goro’s eyes widened minutely, before he sped off in the direction of the employee behind the counter. He dropped his items before her, sliding his money her way. He got out of the store as quickly as possible.
——
Dinner was bland. He should really learn how to cook. But then, he didn’t have a fondness for paying that much for electricity. He would most certainly fail and waste too much food that he didn’t have the heart to waste. He contemplated whilst eating his sandwich and drinking his coffee.
Leblanc’s was better.
Maybe he can snag a warm cup from Akira after he runs out of sp.