Literally: to cross the Rubicon
Meaning: to make an irreversible decision or to take an action with consequences
Friday, January 13th, Evening
PandaPunch: CattyKittyCat curryHunter How's Goro?
CattyKittyCat: were giving him his space
CattyKittyCat: i approached him as a cat and asked if he wanna pet me
CattyKittyCat: and he barked at me to 'save my pity for the deserving'
annT: oof
curryHunter: im optimistic
curryHunter: if he can snarl at you in full sentences things arent as bad as they could be
curryHunter: a day or two to compute his guilt and hell be back to relative normal
curryHunter: dad will keep an eye on him in the meantime
Sojiro glanced at the plate in front of Goro. It had been scraped clean for the past thirty minutes or so, and yet he continued blankly staring at it. "Are you done?"
Goro didn't react at first, before muttering: "You know… back in November, I spent three whole days trying to write a perfect one-liner to break his spirits as I blew his brains out."
Sojiro grabbed the plate and put it in the sink. "You must have gone through a notebook or two."
"You don't fucking get it, do you, old man?" Goro snarled at him.
"No, not really," he replied. Nobody besides the two of them was present in the cafe and so he allowed himself to sit in the booth opposite him. "We talked about this yesterday, didn't we? How you were not in control despite what you believed."
"This isn't about control over the big picture." He clenched his fist. "It's about my own thoughts and actions. I had one friend that looked past my worthless heritage and I blew his brains out with glee!" He sprung up and slammed his hands on the table, leaning slightly forward. "Fucking glee, Sojiro!"
Sojiro wasn't startled. "You've changed a lot since then though, haven't you?"
"Not in a way that matters." He slumped back down and pointed at his head with a finger gun. "Yes, I have gotten through my thick skull that I'm not powerful or clever enough to antagonize the Phantom Thieves and get away with it, but that's it. I'm not good, I'm just better at being evil."
"Or you're failing to process your guilt, overreacting, and could use a talk with a competent therapist."
"And how would you know about that?" Goro barked back. "You haven't seen me at my worst! You just sit here, cooking your stupid curry and hoping your daughter won't get maimed or killed by whatever powerful asshole has her in their sights this time!"
"You see," the shift in Sojiro's tone was almost imperceptible, "I assume that she's supported and led by people that know what they're doing and won't endanger her without reason. Or am I wrong?"
That stung, enough for Goro to drop the performative antagonism. "I'm not going to let harm come to her. Or any of them," he proclaimed, then caught himself, "-because if they get hurt because of me, I won't be able to-"
He was interrupted by a message notification. "Pardon me," Sojiro said, then pulled his phone out.
curryHunter: hows goro?
curryHunter: people are asking, what should I tell em?
sakura_sojiro: "Cranky, but manageable."
curryHunter: 200
An HTTP response status code, meaning 'OK' – Sojiro was forced to learn things like these to keep up with his daughter. "Sorry," he put away the phone. "That was Futaba, asking if you're alright."
"Do I look alright to you?"
"Funny thing, isn't it?" He tented his fingers, "You present yourself as irredeemable scum of the earth, and yet people are concerned about you and your mental state. People that would call themselves your friends."
"Because they're imbeciles."
Sojiro gave Goro a pointed glance. "Are they really?"
After a pause, he conceded: "Let me rephrase…" He tapped the table with his left index finger. "It's not that they're dumb, it's just that they're… desensitized. Yes, desensitized."
"How so?"
"All of them have been doing this for months at this point," he explained. "When you witness so much of the absolute fucking worst the people have to offer, a shred of humanity is all it takes to look appealing to them. Fuck, I tried to murder them all, but I had a sad backstory and now they're like 'no, this doesn't count, that's just a suicide attempt'."
"I mean, you did attack eight people by your lonesome."
"And since you are operating based primarily on their point of view, you carry the same biases," Goro finished, looking at Sojiro as if he was stupid for not coming to that conclusion. "So, there you go."
Before Sojiro could point out that Goro's behavior he had witnessed personally aligns with the other Thieves' stories, the bell above the door rang. He got up from the booth and turned around to see Sumire pushing the door open with her foot (at doorknob height) and carrying something wrapped in tinfoil in both her hands. "H-hi there," she gently bowed her head. "Am I interrupting something?"
"I don't think so," Sojiro replied.
"Why are you here?" Goro asked, slightly less hostile than he was before. "Who told you to come over?"
"Uh, nobody?" she replied. "You-you took senpai's breakdown very badly and I wanted to do something to cheer you up." She lifted the tray in her hands a little bit with an awkward smile. "I brought cookies, fresh from the oven."
Goro got up from the booth, and noticed Sojiro giving him a glance. Their expressions have managed to convey without words what they would've said without a third party present: Sojiro's slightly knitted brow and pointed stare meant I can tolerate your tantrums but don't you dare to lash out at her, and Goro's softened expression with hints of disconcert on his face added up to I wasn't going to, I swear. I'll be gentle.
He walked up to Sumire, who pulled the tinfoil aside, revealing a trayful of cookies shaped like small crow heads, with opened beaks and holes for eyes. "I thought about bringing some comfort food over," she commented, "but then I realized I can't match Sakura-san's curry and decided to make dessert."
"I… I don't understand…" Goro picked up one of the cookies and inspected it in his left hand. "You've seen… you've seen what I've done to Akira. And you know what I've done to others. Why… why on earth would you spend time and effort to try and cheer up someone as… reprehensible as me?"
"Because I can, and because I want to," Sumire replied. "And because you try to keep my morale up, to the best of your abilities. Give yourself some credit, Goro-san." After a pause, she added: "Uh… could you try the cookies now? I'm scared that I screwed something up."
Goro put the cookie in his mouth and bit down. It was crunchy and sweet, but not excessively so. "They're fantastic." He dared to smile. "And I expected nothing less from you."
Sumire smiled right back. "I'm glad you like them."
The two dorks stared at one another, smiling awkwardly, unsure where that interaction should go from there.
And then, the bell above the door rang again.
The three present turned to see a middle-aged woman remove her overcoat and hang it on the coat stand. Her jet-black hair was tied in a proper bun, she was wearing a navy-blue suit jacket and a dress, and her gray eyes looked inexplicably familiar to Sumire and Goro.
"Hey, Yuki," Sojiro greeted her. "You didn't warn me you'd come."
"It's a surprise visit." She glanced at Goro. "I want to have a word in private with your… son."
"Is this a… PTH thing?" Sumire piped up. "Both me and Sakura-san are in the loop. You can talk openly."
"I see." A pronounced scowl appeared on his face. "Are you aware of what the suited kid did to my son?"
"I should've guessed you're Akira's mother." Goro assumed a neutral, dignified expression. "If you're here to avenge him, get it over with quickly."
"Nobody avenges anybody!" Sumire stepped in front of him, and, after a beat, moved the tray closer to Akira's mom. "Have a cookie, Amamiya-san."
She grabbed one of the cookies and took a bite from it. "Let's take a step back." She sat down in one of the booths and gestured at Goro to sit down opposite her. "I'm here to talk on my son's behalf. He wants to come back to Tokyo and help you deal with that therapist that took over the world, but he isn't sure if you'll let him."
"Well, I'm not going to shoot him a second time," Goro quipped, sitting down, and gesturing at Sumire to join him.
Akira's mom responded with a death glare. "He's not worried about that… though I wonder if he should be. No, he believes that you, as the acting leader, won't take him back in."
Goro reacted with incredulity. "Ma'am," he said, "I have no say in whether he's with the Phantom Thieves or not."
"Who does then?" she replied.
"Nobody!" he burst out, then collected himself. "I-I mean, it's his team. He assembled it, shaped it into what it is now, kept it together for as long as he did. I'm just keeping the lights on because nobody complained."
"Can I say something?" Sumire asked.
"Don't ask me for permission to talk ever again," Goro growled in response.
"Uh, okay." She glanced at Akira's mom. "Why does Aki- Ren-senpai think he's not welcome here?"
"The way he describes it," she tented her fingers, "he's been a less-than-stellar leader and almost doomed everyone with his actions."
"He's too hard on himself," Sojiro butted in. "Few people would've handled this whole mess as well as he did with the knowledge he had at the time."
Goro and Sumire nodded in confirmation.
"I suspected as much. Ren's a good kid," Akira's mom commented. "But there's something else he had mentioned – he had initially shown support for that therapist's plan, and even once he conceded it's not that great of an idea, he remained on the fence. He feels that it's too late to get off of it."
Both Sumire and Goro opened their mouths, then noticed the other and gestured with their dominant hand to go on, unintentionally mirroring each other. "You should talk," Goro said. "My meager social skills have gone to shit."
"I've noticed," Akira's mom muttered under her breath.
Sumire inhaled. "Okay, so: everyone, and I mean everyone among the Phantom Thieves understand senpai's hesitation. In fact, they blame themselves for not offering him sufficient support back then. If he wants to come back and help, he can do so at any time, and we will keep a better eye on him, like he kept on us."
"And would you repeat that to his face?" Akira's mom asked.
"Duh!" Goro blurted out.
"Well," she gestured at the exit, "he's waiting outside."
After a moment to process the sentence, Goro and Sumire sprung out of the booth and out of the cafe. Akira was standing just next to the entrance. There was a very brief moment during which they simply exchanged glances in silence.
Then Sumire squeed "Senpai!" and squeezed him.
"How much of that conversation did you hear?" Goro asked in lieu of a greeting.
"All of it." Akira glanced down at the girl glued to him. "I didn't expect this enthusiasm, not going to lie."
"I don't understand why you're shocked," Goro replied. "You've done more than enough to earn people's loyalty and admiration, unlike some people."
"I'm doing my best!" Sumire protested, before realizing it wasn't directed at her. "And you're doing your best too!"
"Oh, I did," he spat. "I'm the best at causing mental breakdowns in people, Akira here can atte-"
Shut up.
Sumire released Akira and inched away from him, startled by the change in his tone of voice. For a brief moment Goro, ever so defiant, considered barking something back, but Akira's steel gaze was enough to intimidate him into silence.
"Yes, all the bullshit you've put me through fucked with my head," Akira continued. "I still have nightmares in which you hold a knife to my throat and mock me for being weak enough to trust you."
Goro lowered his head in shame, like a kid dressed down by his guardian for eating cookies before dinner. Sumire placed herself between the two of them, just in case.
"But then I wake up," Akira continued, slightly softer, "and I see the real Goro. The one willing to sacrifice everything to do the right thing, to make up for all he had done, to rekindle whatever genuine friendship there was between us despite a literal lifetime of trauma fucking with his head." He took a breath. "You aren't the same man that tried to break me last year. And I'm strong enough to forgive you. To trust you."
Goro had no response to that. A part of him wanted to lash out, to destroy whatever unearned goodwill that fucking idiot had left for him, but he decided to listen to another part, the one telling him that Akira doesn't need or deserve more bullshit of his. And so, the two stood there in silence, until…
"And now, a group hug."
Both of them turned to Sumire, who was forced to admit that joke sounded better in her head. "I-I mean, if you want to, Goro-san," she added. "I know you don't like to be forced into things like these."
After a beat, Goro hesitantly extended his arms towards both of them. "Fuck it. You two are allowed."
They gently embraced him. He failed to suppress a sob.
Sojiro and Akira's mom watched the scene from the other side of the glass door. "What's your take on this all?" she asked.
"All three of them have issues of varying intensity," he replied, "but they bring the best out of each other. Let's leave them be for now." He walked to the counter. "Do you want some coffee, Yuki? I assume you brought him in a car, you could use something for the road back."
"Just some basic filtered coffee." She sat down by the counter. "I'm curious about one thing though."
"Which is?" Sojiro said, pouring some beans into a grinder.
"How come that kid – Goro, wasn't it? – how come he ended up here of all places?" She paused for a moment, to not have to shout over the whirr of the coffee grinder. "If I understand how this reality works, someone would need to want this, don't they?"
"Akira does, for starters." Sojiro grabbed the coffee powder and poured it into a reusable filter. "And Futaba's also overprotective of him after what they've all been through. Underneath all the tech lingo, she's a good kid." He put the filter in the drip coffee maker and turned it on. "And as for me… I don't have the skills to run around the human consciousness and fight monsters in a ridiculous outfit, but I can look after a difficult teenager. Especially one these two care about."
Akira's mom idly watched the coffee drip into the glass pitcher. "This isn't the main point, but… You call Ren Akira too, huh?"
"Yeah. I thought it's a harmless nickname." He turned to her. "Is that a problem?"
"No, no, just…" She idly drummed her fingers on the countertop. "I've been thinking about how… hands-off Jun and I were with him, and I'm worried that I don't truly know my son anymore."
"It's not too late to catch up." Sojiro turned the machine off and poured the brown liquid into a mug. "He has seen enough truly abusive and neglectful guardians to know that you have good intentions."
She sighed. "If you say so."
"I hope I didn't wake you up," Wakaba said on the phone.
It's been a really long time since Goro had slept so soundly, but he decided to not bring that up. "No, no. Is something wrong?"
"Could you go downstairs for a second?"
Goro got off the couch, glanced at Akira sleeping in his bed (with Morgana curled up on his chest in his cat form) and quietly descended the stairs. The lights were on and Wakaba was standing by the counter in a coat, holding her phone to her head.
"Sorry to bother you," she said, ending the call, "but I just came back from a trip and wanted to ask you for a favor."
Goro put away his phone. "Yes?"
Wakaba reached into her pocket and produced a solid-looking brass-knuckle, then put it in his hand. "Please dispose of this somewhere in Mementos at first opportunity."
"Understood."
"And if anyone asks, I was at home for the whole day."
He nodded in confirmation.
