Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Good to see you,” Akira greets, cracking his knuckles. Goro looks down at him from where he’s perched on the grand piano, his silver hair half up in a ponytail. Akira sits at the piano bench, readying himself for today’s performance, cracking his knuckles in his white gloves. Goro will play too, his violin case laying on the floor.

The voice will accompany their song, only if they play correctly Goro never leaves the Velvet Room, almost always in the hub of it. They don’t have to sleep, not at all, but Akira can’t deny that when the protagonist isn’t here, he likes to bum around and entertain himself with human things.

Of course, they can leave whenever they want to. Outside of the Velvet Room, he and Goro are normal people, safe for their elaborate blue outfits and silver hair. Goro perfers to explore rather than cramp himself into his own jail cell, and today will be no exception. He and Akira will hit the town and see where it brings them.

But for now, their song. 

“Good to see you as well,” Goro answers, lifting himself from the piano. He’s always dressed in the outfit their master has them wear, but Goro’s is altered. Black slacks with a fitted vest, royal blue in colour. He never really sticks out much when they walk together in public, due to the fact that he could probably pass for a bartender of some sort. He doesn’t wear a hat, not like Akira with his paperboy hat, but his shoes are tall, creeper style stompers that make him tower over people.

Akira is the elaborate one, with his outfit that honestly looks like something a train conductor would have to wear. White gloves match Goro’s black, but he brings it back with a turtleneck, rather than a tie. It’s more of a casual look, as he’s not one to dress up, aside from the fitted slacks with a royal blue stripe down the side to match his jacket. They certainly look like a statement together, but it’s the Velvet Room. It’s customary when serving their master, and the protagonist.

“Ready?” Akira asks, watching as Goro bends at the middle to pick up his violin from its case. Everything he does is practised, elegant - a direct contrast to how absolutely insane he truly is. Attendants should not be bloodthirsty and granted, Goro isn’t. But when it comes to battle and fusing personas, he can be a little… unhinged. Especially during an alarm.

They will perform their song, have it ready for when the protagonist arrives, if it is that day, and see where the day takes them. Igor is often unphased by their coming and going, as long as they arrive back in the Velvet Room at the first sign of the protagonist entering. 

Alarms are special. Goro attends personally when there is an alarm, stringing up personas and fusing them with his expertise. Akira never participates, as it’s not his place to. They are musicians, however Goro has a knack for bringing out the abilities that the protagonist truly needs, rather than wants. The alarms are his forte, just like the violin.

“Ready,” Goro answers, the violin beneath his chin. He raises his brows at Akira, a mocking challenge. “Don’t screw this up, Akira. I don’t want to have a fuck up on loop all day.”

Akira grins at him, flexing his fingers on the keys. “Yes, sir. And good luck to you as well, honey.” The pet name is just to make Goro roll his eyes but all the same, they each take a deep breath and begin their song. 

The opera voice awakes alongside their melody, Goro’s eyes slipping closed. They know this song upon creation, the requiem of heroes to aid all in their journey. The Velvet Room welcomes those who are worthy, and this song is a guide to accompany the heroes that may come across their dwelling. 

Akira plays, his heart directing where his hands must go. It ignites his blood, his heart singing a tune he will take to his grave, whatever that may look like as a being of the Velvet Room. He plays this song everyday, in its entirety, like a wakeup call. Right now, their protagonist is at school, and may stop by to see the Velvet Room afterwards. They have time to kill until the bell chimes. Igor will bring Goro and Akira back like dogs on a leash when the protagonist finishes their humble student life for the day.

The song ends. The singing fades, as does the final note played by Akira. Goro exhales from his position, off to the side of the piano before his eyes open, glowing yellow. He’s always shrouded in slight darkness in the Velvet Room, the shadows clinging to him in a way that Akira quite likes. He suits the darkness.

“Thank you, boys,” Igor purrs from his desk, always smiling. “Well done.”

Akira and Goro each bow their heads, thanking their master in return. Akira stands, cracking his back in the process with a low groan. Goro packs his violin away, clipping the latches of the case in place. It’s a dainty little thing, a silver hue to it all. It suits Goro, always reflecting his yellow eyes if he plays with them open, the perfect companion to him.

Well, after Akira, that is. 

“Breakfast, then movie, then coffee?” Akira asks, tilting his head at Goro. The attendant stands up straight, stamping one foot so that the violin is swallowed whole by the darkness, leaving them alone. Akira does the same, clicking his fingers instead and the piano disappears in a whirlwind of liquid black, dissapating into the floor.

“Coffee first,” Goro answers, his eyes glowing. A coffee fiend he always will be. “Why a movie? Is there something interesting going on?”

Akira grins. He’s been waiting for Goro to take the bait. “Psychological thriller with a twist.” Normally, the two of them don’t really see movies. It can be annoying when they both guess the plot a quarter way in; they always end up leaving early and blowing some money on a shooting game in an arcade to get over the irritation of wasting time on a movie so predictable.

But Akira wasn’t able to figure out anything major from the synopsis, so he has high hopes. That, and he enjoys seeing movies. Goro can be restless but if a plot grabs him, he’ll sit and watch, not uttering a word as his hand clutches Akira’s, a constant presence.

Goro considers his proposal before tilting his head. “Alright, you’ve got me, Akira. If i’s awful, I’ll be in a foul mood all day, so be warned.”

“As opposed to your usual?”

“Act cocky and I won’t go at all.”

Akira slams his hands together, begging his lover to come with him. “Sorry, sorry! But it’s been a while since we had a date, hey?”

Goro raises his brows, awfully tall in his shoes. He and Akira are around the same height normally but Goro enjoys the fact that he can tower over Akira this way, his yellow eyes alight. “It has been, honey . Are we going to keep talking or can we go now?”

Akira smirks at him, asking for his hand. They each bow to Igor, hand in hand. Akira is more exaggerated, curling an arm over his stomach as he crosses his leg behind the other, taking Goro down with him. His partner mutters to himself but does the same, ignoring Igor’s pleased chuckle. They both enjoy teasing Goro, since he makes it so easy.

“Akira,” Igor calls when they’re almost out of the Velvet Room. It startles him into turning around, immediately bowing his head. Their footsteps echo, ending when Igor speaks.

“Yes, master?”

“Don’t cause too much trouble, my joker.”

Akira laughs, shaking his head as he raises himself. “Of course not, master.”

Goro seems annoyed that he’s not included, one foot higher on the stairs. He gestures widely with his hand before saying, “No warning for me, Igor? Have you finally given up on me?”

Igor’s fingers roll on the desktop, his beady eyes staring right through Goro. “Why bother wasting words that won’t be listened to, my Loki?” he says, earning a scoff from Goro. “Do take care, Goro. I would hate to have anything happen to my lovely violinist.”

“Lovely violinist,” Akira echoes, purring the words to Goro. The attendant lifts a brow at him, grabbing his hand again. Akira is the affectionate one, honestly, but Goro has a love of hand holding for some reason. It’s one of those things that doesn’t make sense at all, so it can only make sense in the end. Akira loves it, adores it when Goro plays with his fingers, especially when their gloves aren’t on.

“Come on,” Goro says, tugging on Akira’s hand. “I want coffee.”

“Pancakes too?”

“Obviously. We can have curry after the movie, if you’d like.”

Akira scales the stairs with him, smiling bright. Only because he knows Goro will grant it, he purses his lips for a kiss. It’s nothing more than a peck but Akira makes an obnoxious noise, not unlike how he would try to approach a cat on the street. Goro mimics him, rolling his eyes as he pulls Akira out of the Velvet Room, letting Akira kiss his cheek.

The door opens, casting light all over them. Their silver hair shines in the sun, their eyes reflecting it all. Goro looks down, away from the light, and Akira lifts his hand, blocking the sun from his eyes protectively. “Okay?” he whispers, drawing his other hand down Goro’s back.

“I’m fine,” Goro says, correcting his uniform. Humans can’t see them unless they permit it, but Goro enjoys looking good. He takes pride in his uniform, always polishing the jewelery they wear, especially the broch on his vest. “Let’s go. The cafes will close if we don’t leave soon.”

“Not in Tokyo,” Akira laughs, but takes his partner’s hand. 

Black and white gloves, opposites attracting. Igor commented at the beginning of their work together that Akira and Goro complete each other. Neither of them believed it, awkwardly accepting the comment from their master with nothing else to say on the matter. They’re not twins in any way, nor are they specifically complimentary of each other, but there’s little things that just make sense.

Tasked with the music of the Velvet Room first and foremost, their instrumental melodies attune with one another and create a space that is wholly theirs. The first compliment Goro ever paid to Akira was that his piano sounded hauntingly beautiful. Akira returned the compliment by telling Goro he was hauntingly beautiful.

The attendant had stared at him for a while after that, his yellow eyes unwavering. Eventually, he exhaled and asked, Why?

Akira smiled. Our master did not create us with every detail in mind. We have developed in our own ways, with the knowledge we receive and understand. Without this, we wouldn’t have personalities. I have to understand what beauty means in order to compliment it and seeing you makes me realise that I do know what it means.

Goro soured at that, the darkness surrounding him licking up his body as he tried not to let it swallow him whole. You should have learned how to not say such utterly ridiculous things, he answered and snapped his violin bow clean in half.

Akira can’t pinpoint when Goro began to truly let himself run wild with his personality. He’s twisted and bizarre in the most obscure ways. He speaks so many languages that Akira can’t fathom half of what he says, even if it’s in Japanese. He’s smart and cunning, his voice dripping with malice and bloodlust when he calls for a hanging during an alarm. Goro slams his baton on the jail cells, lifts himself off the ground to yank down the chains to release the guillitines with glee.

He’s absolutely, positively insane and Akira must be predispositioned to love him because all he can say is that he does. He likes when Goro gets to act like the unhinged beast that he is, his yellow eyes shining in the darkness as he taunts the protagonist. He likes it all, every wide eyed crazy look that Goro gives him. 

Goro looks at him now, more subdued since there’s no reason for him to be that far gone. Akira adores every part of him, stepping out into the sunlight and in one pull, Goro is against him, a kiss shared between them.

“Coffee, movie, coffee again?” Akira says against Goro’s lips.

Goro opens his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering. He just nods, humming once. He pulls Akira along, his ears bright red against his silver hair. Akira chuckles to himself, following his partner through the streets of Shibuya. He lets the day get away from him, Goro never letting go of his hand even when they reveal themselves so they can order. 

Goro offers his iced coffee for Akira to taste and he does, sipping through the straw. It’s good, as it always is, but Goro likes to offer it when they’re in public, as its own form of display of affection. It’s moments like this that Akira adores, when he has the freedom to escape, so to speak, and live a little fantasy with Goro in the public hustle and bustle.

They surely look like a duo, with their silver hair and yellow eyes. Harajuku is always quite welcoming to them, so Akira decides that’s where they’ll go after the movie. He doesn’t wonder what it’s like to be human, not when he’s with Goro. He doesn’t care; if he were human and Goro were an attendant, Akira knows he would have found a way to fall in love with him one way or another.

Black and white gloves. The coffee drinker and the coffee lover. The violinist and the pianist of the Velvet Room.

One cannot exist without the other, not in any version of the narrative.