Chapter Text
"Crow, watch your health!" Futaba commanded.
The air was thick and heavy with tension and the fear of a misson unsuccessful. An assemblage of panicked footsteps and low grunts filled the room. Akechi, caught up in the heat of battle, could feel his heart bang against his chest, every muscle in his body was on fire, and with every breath, his lungs burned more and more. Despite his severe exhaustion, he continued launching attacks at the enemy which stood before the Thieves and himself. He felt just as scared of failing as he did weak, and losing here was not an option. Not now.
"I'm fine," Akechi dismissed, "we need to focus on taking this thing down before it has time to attack!"
Akechi reached for his mask, tearing it from his face with a pained grunt to summon Loki. He unleashed a powerful curse spell before noticing a throbbing pain in his right shoulder. Blood spilled from the torn fabric. Wincing, he ignored the wound and continued to attack their enemy.
Joker used a healing spell on the injured Crow, earning a disappointed glare from the other. They were wasting time. Seconds after, a Cannon Shot was headed their way. After a dangerously close dodge from the black-haired Wildcard, Akechi's mouth opened as if to speak, only to be interupted by a panicked voice.
"Joker, we're running out of time!" Futaba warned.
The Thieves frantically threw attacks at the massive pyramid that was Masayoshi Shido's shadow, or rather, a sickening display of Shido's supporters stacked together to form what now resembled a pyramid. As the towering figure charged up a devastating attack, sounds of battle filled the crowded assembly hall. Akechi had known they'd already lost, yet he still had hope of saving Akira from a fate he'd witnessed—and lived—time and time again. He couldn't allow himself to let things play out as they did last time. He couldn't allow himself to lose him again.
"We're too late!" Morgana yowled, "We need to deal some heavy damage if we want any chance of surviving!"
Before he could summon Loki and attack, Akechi was met with the dreadful sight of the pyramid preparing to unleash the murderous spell. A high-pitched screech and a flash of light were an intense urgency to which the Thieves answered with a surge of healing and support skills. Finally, it came. In a panicked stupor, Akechi grabbed the sleeve of Akira's coat and pulled him behind himself, desperately attempting to put him out of harm's way. But he was far too late. Akira stuttered, "C-Crow, what are you-"
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Akechi opened his eyes and was met with the familiar sight of his apartment's ceiling. For a moment, he laid in silence, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He was alive but... he failed. Again. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he reached for his phone, checking the date. The screen read June 9th. He wasn't sure why he bothered looking, for he always came back to this exact day after...
Lazily throwing his blanket off of himself, he rose from his bed and began making his way to the bathroom. Flipping the light switch on, he stared at himself in thought, the bathroom tile cold beneath his feet. I'm pathetic. The clever Detective Prince, the black masked murderer, Goro Akechi was pathetic. His repeated failures were only proof of that. A deep pain settled in his throat as his eyes, warm and blurred lowered to the sink. Pulling himself out of his head, he reached for his toothbrush and prepared himself for the long day ahead of him.