seeking the permission to be weak: on the themes of goro akechi’s arc
vulnerability, isolation versus connection, resentment, emotional immaturity, sunk cost fallacy, constructing and confronting oneself, and what it means to be acknowledged.
for context, these are my semi-connected thoughts after playing through the game’s seventh palace for the first time. it left me feeling like i'd been hit by a goddamn truck, and suddenly all these damn words erupted from me. haven't actually finished the game yet, but i needed to get these feelings off my chest before i could keep going LOL [late-game spoilers for persona 5]
the akechi confrontation in shido’s palace has earned its right to reside in my head rent-free forever. i mean, it’s mechanically brilliant. all i’m looking for was a place to SAVE like normal after a mini-boss; instead i am ambushed by a boy who, frankly, could’ve used someone to save him. which is to say, i enter this fight fuckin bedraggled because i haven’t even healed up from that last encounter. three of my current party members are under 100 hp, and only a third of joker’s sp remains. it’s looking kinda ugly.
and yet, even though akechi had all the preparation on his side and demonstrated three full phases of power… he still loses. purely on the basis that mechanically, joker has so many powerful abilities gained through his confidants and all of his phantom thief friends fighting by his side–friends who could tap in when the others were exhausted. it’s entirely because of those bonds between joker and his party that they could beat the sole, sad akechi.
i LOVE how thematically resonant that is. for all his talents that even the phantom thieves begrudgingly admire, akechi still comes up short. not because he himself is deficient, but because he has no one else to rely on once he’s given his all.
when it comes to the thieves, this is the sorest part for him. akechi mocks their friendship, calling them “pieces of shit… who lick each other’s wounds…!” but what he really resents is that they help each other when they’re weak. growing up, when he was scared and lacking, he had no comfort but himself. it kills him to see them supporting one another because deep down, he’s always longed for the permission to be weak, yet still looked after.
this resentment is especially interesting when you examine how much akechi’s circumstances reflect those of the phantom thieves. having your life turned upside down by masayoshi shido. enduring the superficial judgment of your peers. betrayed by your father figure and haunted by your mother's death. performing perfection and compliance at the expense of your ideals. believing you have no choice but to obey your dad's orders while holding out for any shred of remaining affection. even being orphaned and hiding yourself from the world, feeling as though you have no power to escape your pain on your own. akechi and each of the phantom thieves have all been victimized by cruel adults and ostracized by corrupt systems. society had deprived all of them of a place to belong. but only akechi remained disconnected from other people, and only akechi took irrevocable actions that anyone would rightfully revile.
yet despite what could reasonably be expected from anyone, the thieves still choose to sympathize and plead with him to join their cause, properly this time. even futaba and haru, who have both been most directly harmed by akechi’s actions, try to acknowledge him and the isolation he’s felt all his life. it’s kindness he may not even deserve. but maybe it’s because, within akechi, they catch a glimpse of a much lonelier path that they might’ve stumbled down if it weren’t for their fellow outcasts… particularly joker.
joker is the foil that slices deeply into akechi’s pride and sense of self. just look at what they share: their unjust treatment by adults, their insightfulness, their quick wits, their charm, their competitive drive, their metaverse powers, their thief personas. hell–they’re even the same height. but despite their common ground, joker is stronger than akechi. which forces akechi to admit that his counterpart might have something special that he lacks. there’s something missing from his life, a void he’s never been able to fill but others can. and though there are material ways in which joker was simply luckier than akechi, the most important thematic difference between them is the strength and number of joker's bonds–things that akechi never learned to nurture and thus could never rival.
so akechi hates him. he hates him because joker and his friends stoke his sense of inferiority. joker isn't an empty phony. joker became acknowledged and supported without sacrificing his justice–in fact because he upheld it. joker found a way out of the misery when he couldn't. maybe worst of all, akechi hates joker because joker could've changed the course of his entire life, if only they'd met a few years earlier.
which makes it ever more tragic that in the present, akechi refuses the thieves’ extraordinary kindness. perhaps he doesn’t believe their show of grace to be genuine, rankling under sympathy that he mistakes for pity; perhaps he cannot fathom being equals in a non-transactional relationship; perhaps he just no longer considers himself worthy after all the awful things he’s done. whatever it is, he rejects what’s possibly his last chance to desert his path of self-destruction and embrace the camaraderie that has always escaped him. he thinks them fools, believing they should just get rid of him, because that's the only thing you can do with people who get in the way, right? it’s in this manner that his inability to move past his pain condemns him yet again.
the thing is, despite the cruelty he inflicted on the world through his childish temper tantrum, it's hard not to mourn the fact that akechi got here largely because he didn’t know how to grow up. if love is a safe space to be vulnerable–to mess up and mature–then with so little of it in his life, no wonder he got stuck stewing in his lies and hatred. that’s why he ends up standing before you as a kid burdened by trauma and loneliness from a young age. a kid whose parental figures abandoned him to bounce from foster home to foster home. a kid given great power yet no one to steer him away from his bad choices. a kid manipulated and molded into a mentally unstable weapon. a kid who committed to a rotten path until he felt he could do nothing else but continue tearing down it. i mean, by then, who was gonna want the real him? who was gonna save him? who was even gonna help him?
by the time he could feel the regret sink in, it was already too late. if only he’d been given the necessary love and direction beforehand, if only he’d met joker and the phantom thieves sooner… his mistakes are still his to own, but no one stepped in to show him how to wield his powers responsibly, how to rely on others, or hell–just how to make friends. when left alone to fend for himself with hardly any resources, he doubled down with the cards he was dealt. how surprised can we be?
instead this “undesirable child” grew desperate to become someone others could rely on–someone so undeniably special that even a person with a blackened heart like shido would have to acknowledge him. with such demanding standards to toil under, he could never be anything less than perfect; he could never entrust his whole broken self to anyone.
ironically, while freezing everyone else out, he grew dependent on external validation. he sought academic honors because it was an “objective” measure of his worth. he sought fame because he craved even the most mercurial of affections. he sought shido’s praise, not just because he thought he could take revenge on him one day, but also because deep down, he was a wounded kid who just wanted love from the father who should’ve loved him from the start.
his life became ruled by an immature revenge fantasy, leading him down the most counterproductive path possible. he worked so hard to construct an ideal version of himself. yet inevitably, every trait of his that others came to envy, every trait that made him “special”–his academics, his celebrity, his charisma, his strength in the cognitive world–is utterly wasted on a man who would never appreciate any of it. like akechi, shido never trusted a soul either, and he never hesitated to crush a pawn whose utility was used up–even if it was his own son.
if only subconsciously, maybe akechi already understood some of these realities. but it isn't until he is confronted by shido's cognitive akechi that the full weight finally sets in. in that moment, filtered through the eyes of the man he hates most, he experiences a reflection: an akechi who is twisted by self-serving logic, who quite literally hates himself, who would mindlessly self-annihilate for shido in a heartbeat. now it's clear: in the process of seeking futile validation, akechi has thrown away his immense potential and, ultimately, his sense of self.
the truth is, akechi admitting that he ever needed or wanted teammates would be admitting that all the suffering he endured and all the blood he spilled–things he defined himself by for lack of anything else–weren’t necessary. it would be admitting that he didn't have to be a perfect prince. he was worthy of acceptance–weaknesses and all–this whole time. that's why, after all the time and energy he's squandered, he can't do it. not even in the face of the phantom thieves’ exceptional compassion.
maybe he could’ve admitted it earlier, if he had just found real friends or familial figures to accept him. he never should have had to be “special” to deserve love. nor did he have to be an honors student, nor an ace detective, nor shido’s puppet. he just had to be akechi.
he just had to open his heart to other people long enough to realize. he just had to put his faith in those who–against all odds and beyond all reasonable expectations–still wanted to save him. but he couldn’t. the myriad complexes guarding his heart wouldn't let him. so even at the very fucking end, although he helps them escape, akechi still closes himself off–metaphorically and physically–from the phantom thieves.
not all is lost, though. at last he makes a choice in defiance of the pathetic self who shaped his entire life around shido’s will. by claiming this agency, akechi may well have elected to destroy both versions of himself: the shadow self that shido cast and the real self that he finally asserted. yet with this pyrrhic action… at least he would die not as his father’s miserable puppet, but as his own person.
if that were the end of akechi's story, it might be bittersweet enough. but before slipping away, joker extends him one last kind gesture: a reminder of akechi’s promise. his promise–perhaps the epitome of how, despite insisting that he hated joker, akechi consciously and unconsciously offered so much of himself in joker's presence. with just a few words, joker recognizes everything akechi has shared with him. perhaps it's notable that there is no sympathy expressed. he just acknowledges who akechi is to him. a rival. a phantom thief. a friend.
finally, this is the unconditional acceptance akechi has been seeking all his goddamned life. and even if he can't comprehend why on earth joker would offer him this… for once, an unguarded smile slips onto his face.
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