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She's the first person he notices, giving him a coy smile during her routine.
Goro Akechi doesn't acknowledge her, refusing to encroach on Shido’s handpicked for this week.
That's an easy way to get hit, and he has an interview the next day. (Cuts are harder to cover up, and Goro knows Shido wears a sharp ring to make it hurt more.)
Not that it matters, but he'd rather avoid the unnecessary makeup if he can help it.
Shido's been talking this entire time, and Goro simply smiles and nods like a perfect doll, just as he's been trained to.
He politely accepts the offered whisky, downing it without hesitation.
(He remembers stalling too long, and getting the bottle thrown at his head for the trouble.)
(Goro adapts, as he always does.)
The burn is the same going down his throat, and he ignores the fact that he hasn't eaten all day.
The dancer from earlier keeps glancing at him, and Shido's eyes narrow.
He really hates parties like this.
Shido drags him close by the hair on his neck, and rasps, “She's mine .”
“Of course, Shido-san. I wouldn't dream of taking her.” He grits out, with a pleasant smile still stitched on his face, imagining Shido filled with lead, stabbing him in the eye while he’s wearing those stupid orange sunglasses, the shards stuck in his skull-
They stare at one another in silence, then he's released.
“Go make yourself useful. Get me something stronger, if I have to deal with looking at you.”
“Right away, Shido-san.”
Taking the out for what it was, he quickly finds a server and passes off the request.
The routine, having ended, brings the dancer over to Shido's lap.
He almost winces at the corset she wore as she’s confidently taking a seat.
She giggles, crossing her legs seductively.
Goro can only feel sorry for her, knowing her fate, having seen it through his mother.
There's something about those eyes though, almost as if blue coal was burning, if he were to be poetic about it.
He's on thin enough ice as it is, so he looks away.
The lights flicker, and if he wasn't slightly intoxicated, he would have thought more of it.
But he doesn't, and then the lights go out completely.
Goro feels the fencenet tights catch on his briefcase, and his stomach drops.
He feels her curly hair brush against his face, her gloved hands leading him in the dark, and what's he to do but follow?
(Literally anything else. If Shido thought he was in cahoots with these thieves, it was a one way trip into cement.)
The dancer manages to pull him down pathways he couldn’t see, even with his eyes getting used to the dark. Almost as if she had a third eye for this sort of thing.
That was, of course, a joke.
She definitely had accomplices, and there was likely an earpiece hidden beneath the thick curls directing them out safely.
It wouldn’t make sense to simply leave during the blackout, not unless she was the distraction, and they didn’t have to steal under the cover of darkness?
There was another in, there had to be.
Someone in their group didn’t need to hide their identity to be here, which means Goro knows them.
It’s only a matter of time before he unmasks the traitor.
Unless they’re attempting to take him as a hostage? Laughable, to be sure.
Goro knew full well that Shido didn’t give a shit about him.
The Phantom Thieves probably weren’t aware of that, though. Even if that dancer saw Shido’s threat earlier, the leap in logic to decide that he was worthless to them was too wide a gap.
So either he’s a hostage, or…
He immediately gets rid of the ‘recruitment’ notion. It’d be ridiculous to think that someone who was so outspoken about his dislike of the Thieves would be swayed by their convictions.
That left his other guess, which was information.
Based on his profiling, it wasn’t likely they’d torture him, but that doesn’t make the chances zero.
Whatever they would do, he would learn soon enough. The exit sign cut through the darkness clean and efficiently.
He didn’t recognize this exit, however.
When they got outside, Goro was only marginally surprised to see a minivan parked in an alley across the way.
A secondary location wasn’t good.
He didn’t resist, because if they took him straight to their hideout like idiots, Goro could quickly capture them after he escaped.
When they got in, there were only three people in the vehicle; himself, the dancer, and the apparent getaway driver.
It seemed they were at least intelligent enough to split up for this, since they were kidnapping him.
The van started moving, not making sudden turns, slamming on brakes, or any other signs outwardly that this had the suspects inside.
After about 10 minutes of driving, the dancer started scratching at her head. She groaned, irritatedly, muttered, “sorry, Queen,” and lifted all the hair off.
Ah. Yes, of course. A wig would make sense.
They impatiently pulled off the wig cap, and at least had the sense to get a lighter shade of synthetic hair than their normal color.
Not that it mattered under the lighting, but effort was made.
“Well? I assumed you had dreamed for this day to come, a Thief to whisk you away from your birdcage? But I’m surprised, Detective! You haven’t even made a peep! The entire time I was bringing you along, I could feel you overthinking beside me!”
The voice was a rich baritone, a far cry from the giggly girl straddling Shido’s lap not that long ago.
Goro silently relished in the thought that Shido had been lusting after someone he despised.
(Goro relished in the thought that he was wanted. They chose him. Not Shido, not whoever else was at that party. Him. )
“Ah, I apologize if I came off as rude, but it is because I’m a detective that I couldn’t help but overanalyze the situation!” He let out a polite laugh, pasting a smile back on.
“Joker.”
The mysterious driver suddenly spoke, an underlying threat in that single word. She was likely the ‘Queen,’ that ‘Joker,’ said that half-assed apology earlier to.
Acting accordingly, Goro stiffened, glancing between the two and going silent.
It seemed his departure wasn’t fully agreed upon before it happened.
If Joker was affected in the slightest, his mask was perfect. No cracks, no tells, just a cocky grin.
Goro wanted to carve it out of him.
To see him break into a million pieces, never able to be put back the way he was.
That would have to wait, unfortunately.
“Please pardon my intrusion, but… You two are the Phantom Thieves, correct?” Seeing Joker’s nod (and ignoring Queen’s glare,) he continued. “Then you must have stolen something tonight. I’m not so conceited as to assume I was your true goal, likely I’m just a smokescreen before they realize what you actually meant to take. May I ask what that item was?”
“No.” Came the clipped reply from Queen.
Goro bit down on his tongue, tasting blood. He’d rather deal with Joker’s arrogance than that screeching voice modulator.
“If you’re that curious, you’ll be able to see it when we get there.”
“And where is ‘there,’ Joker?”
“I guess you’ll just have to be a good boy and wait!”
What a terrible day to have ears and a praise kink.