AUTHOR'S NOTE: Originally, the first chapter of this fic was a one-shot. To everyone who read and enjoyed Rosary, I want to thank you. I can only hope that you'll like this version as much as the other, if not more so. I deleted the original only because it didn't sit well with me to have two works share so much of the same content. Sorry for the inconvenience, and again, thank you to everyone for your feedback on the original!
Makoto does not remember her father as having been all that religious.
He used to stand outside on their apartment's balcony and smoke cigarettes long after the sun had set. Used to curse whenever he spilled his coffee or forgot about the eggs he had been boiling on the stove. He used to let his daughters take a single sip of his beer just to watch their faces scrunch up in distaste. Then he would finish the can off himself. Pick up his giggling daughters in each of his arms and tuck them into their beds.
She can remember once finding him sprawled out on their kitchen floor in a drunken stupor. As a child, Makoto had not understood him. What he said made no sense to her: got away, fucking judge, bullshit! He fucking did it, he killed them! Now she knows that someone he arrested must have been acquitted on that day.
Makoto cannot see the appeal in such a response. It does nothing to change the outcome. She supposes that her father knew this too. The next morning, he gently led his daughters by their hands to the church in Kanda. It was not a place they regularly visited. Sae had once asked him why they went there at all.
Sometimes it helps, he said. Especially when I think I'm stuck.
Normally, they would arrive at the church halfway through the sermon. The Niijimas always sat in the row furthest back. Makoto would listen as the congregation repeated aloud the words the priest asked them to. Not once did her father join in. He rarely spoke inside those walls. He would just put his hands together. Bow his head. Sometimes he would only sit like that for a few minutes. Other times, he would sit there for almost a half-hour.
He never told his daughters to pray along with him. Never said a word when Sae began to bring her schoolbooks with her to read during the service. Makoto sat between them and would spend her time reading over Sae's elbow. Or absently humming along to the hymns sung by those around them.
She recalls one visit in particular. Her eyes had been bleary from how early they arrived at the church. The sermon had not even begun yet. Thirteen year-old Makoto noticed the dirty looks people gave Sae whenever she would crack open a textbook. So Makoto always left her own schoolbooks inside her bag. Instead, she would mentally review her notes. Would try to prepare questions to ask her teachers at school later that day. Would try to resist reading over Sae's shoulder. At some point or another, she drifted off to sleep. She later woke in her father's arms as he carried her. Embarrassed, Makoto demanded to be put down onto the sidewalk. Makoto vaguely remembers saying something about not being a child anymore. Sae had rolled her eyes at that. Sunlight caught on her father's teeth as he laughed.
Alright, alright, he had said. Put her down on her feet. Then he said to Sae, It's always kids who say they aren't kids, isn't it?
Huffing, Makoto had stomped off ahead of them. Both her sister and father laughed loudly. It would be the last time she heard either of them truly laugh.
Her father was killed the next day.
For the first time in years, Makoto visits the church in Kanda. It does not appear as though anybody else is seated among the pews. Only her memories fill them. She sees her father curled in over his clasped hands in the back row. Sees Sae curled in over her textbook. The space between them is empty. A second later, their spots are empty too.
Her hand closes tighter around the cross pendant that her father used to wear under his dress shirt.
Ren had been taken into custody by the police. Sae had not given her any forewarning that this would happen. Her sister only told her after-the-fact. Their fight late last night had gone in circles. Sae had been right to ask Ren to turn himself in. His testimony would surely lead to a successful conviction. It would be difficult to make anything stick without it. It was the reasonable course of action.
Even still, that did not make it just.
Makoto is the first of their number to know. So it would be her responsibility to tell the others what happened. The thought had kept her up all night.
Something moves. Instinctively, Makoto slides her feet apart and arranges her fists in front of her. Her eyes scan the pews ahead. Catch on a figure seated in the front row.
Hifumi Togo.
Makoto recognizes her right away. She knows her by the houndstooth dress. By the long fall of her dark hair. The curve of her cheek and her small chin. Makoto knows Hifumi by the way her own heart stutters at the sight of her.
They have met many times at the diner in Shibuya to help each other study. Although Hifumi is a year younger than Makoto, she has a mind for history and all its seemingly-unimportant details. Makoto had been the one to ask for assistance from Hifumi in studying the subject for her upcoming exams. In exchange, Makoto helps Hifumi with her science schoolwork.
"Makoto!" Hifumi says. Smiles. The sight causes Makoto's lungs to momentarily stop working.
"Hi," she manages to say. Her feet take her on their own down the centre aisle. Pocketing her father's necklace, Makoto stops beside the pew Hifumi sits in. A shogi board sits on Hifumi's left. It looks like she is in the middle of a match.
"I didn't know that you came here too."
"I don't," Makoto says. "Not usually. It's, been a long time since I was last here."
Both of Hifumi's eyebrows raise slightly.
"I won't keep you then," she says. Lowers her head back over her shogi board. Awkwardly, Makoto just stands there and watches as she moves piece after piece.
Hifumi must think she has come here for a reason. Anyone would assume that. Just as they would rightfully assume that Makoto had a reason to take her father's necklace from where it lay beside his portrait. None of this had been an accident: Makoto had chosen to do these things.
Only, Makoto is not sure herself what her reasons might be.
"May I?" Makoto asks. Gestures at the open seat on the opposing side of the shogi board. Looking up at her, Hifumi gives Makoto a little nod. Then she returns to her one-player game.
Makoto sits. Watches Hifumi's slender fingers pick up and set down pawns and knights. Lances and generals. A lock of her hair escapes from behind her ear. In one fluid motion, Hifumi picks a knight up and sweeps the hair back into place before setting the piece down. Makoto does not understand how this could possibly make her throat feel dry. Yet it does.
When Hifumi suddenly looks up at her, Makoto averts her gaze.
"So, um... did you want to play?"
They have played against each other in the past. Playing shogi brings out a side of Hifumi that makes Makoto's heart skip erratically. Now is not the time for giddiness.
"Why not?" Makoto says anyway.
Hifumi resets the board. The sound of pieces clacking against the board's surface echoes in the emptiness of the church. Makoto tilts her head upwards as if to follow the echo with her eyes.
"It's nice here, isn't it?" At the sound of her voice, Makoto looks back at Hifumi. "It's why I come here to practice."
"Because it's quiet?" Makoto asks.
"Well, yes," Hifumi says. It sounds like there is more to it than that. Makoto is about to ask her to elaborate when Hifumi points with a flat palm at the board. "You move first."
So she does.
As Hifumi picks up a piece, she says, "With this, the war has truly begun. There are no means of turning back now. Not for fools! Not for queens!"
There is such steel in her voice. Makoto's heart beats double time. Pounds in her ears and fingers. In her knees and in her throat. It is not just giddiness. There are no means of turning back now.
Makoto remembers right then that Hifumi and Ren are friends. In fact, it had been through Ren that Makoto had first met her. Ren and Hifumi had been close enough that he had asked the Phantom Thieves to help him change the heart of Hifumi's mother.
"Poor choice," Hifumi says as Makoto sets down a pawn. The words make her stomach lurch.
Not for fools, Makoto hears inside her heartbeat. Not for queens.
"Hifumi," she says then. The early morning light washes out the colour in Hifumi's eyes. But her smile is so sharp. So predatory. Hifumi is somewhere else right now. For a single second, Makoto considers leaving her wherever she is.
"Yes?"
"Ren," she says. Hesitates. As the moment stretches, the smile begins to dissipate from Hifumi's lips. Regret burns the words in Makoto's mouth to ash. Burns a hole in the pocket of her coat.
"What is it?" Hifumi asks with wide eyes.
"He's been taken into custody by the police," Makoto says. Somehow, Hifumi's eyes grow even wider.
"I— pardon?" Hifumi says. "The police? But why?"
It takes Makoto a moment to decide what exactly to tell her. She had insisted that the Phantom Thieves keep each other apprised of who might know or suspect their secret. Hifumi had been on that short list.
"He chose to," she says. It feels like a lie. It was hardly a choice. "He's providing the police with crucial information, but... he'll be implicating himself when he does."
"Is there anything we can do?" Hifumi asks. Leans forward so suddenly in her seat that the hair behind her ear comes loose again.
Makoto should shake her head. Instead, she just turns her eyes away. Lets the faintest breathe pass through her lips.
Seconds feel like minutes. The only sound is the bench creaking under them as Hifumi rests against the back of it.
"Did you come here, to tell me?" Hifumi says quietly. Without looking her way, Makoto gives Hifumi the tiniest shake of her head. "Then, did you come here... to pray?"
"I..." Makoto looks ahead at the chancel. Ahead at the array of paintings set up behind the altar and the stained-glass windows above them. The sunlight that comes in through the window is weak. But it still catches on her eyes. Blinking hard, her father's teeth glint in the quarter-second her eyes close. She feels like such a kid. Feels— "Alone. I feel alone."
It is with certainty that Makoto knows she did not come here to pray. It has been hard enough for her to learn to trust other people. She does not believe she has it in her to entrust her wishes to anything divine. Especially when she thinks about how unfavourable her encounters with so-called divinity have been so far.
Hifumi had praised this place for its quietness. Makoto thinks she can understand that sentiment. Thinks that perhaps she came here for the silence. No services would be in session at this early hour. The church should have been empty.
Save for her memories.
Or maybe she was following some kind of psychological script. What happened before might happen again. Perhaps visiting the church was the first step in saying goodbye. Unconsciously, she slides her hand over the fabric of her pocket.
Alone was one word for how she feels. Forgotten was another. Even after everything they all had done, the world has still given up on them.
"May I?" Hifumi's voice is barely more than a whisper.
She does not know what Hifumi is asking. Looking at her, Makoto finds Hifumi's empty hand hovering over the shogi board. No answer comes to mind. But she nods anyways.
Hifumi takes Makoto's closest hand into her own. Their eyes meet.
"I'm sorry," she says. There is something different about the way Hifumi looks at her right now. Something about the wideness of her eyes that gives Makoto the impression that what Hifumi is looking at is new.
"Me too," she says quietly. Closes her fingers around Hifumi's own.
Minutes pass as they hold hands. The doors to the church open behind them. People and their hushed voices enter. It is Christmas Day, Makoto remembers. It is possible that the church will be holding some kind of service. Time is passing too quickly. Soon she will have to face the others. It would be best if she were at Le Blanc before they arrive.
But that would require Makoto to let go of Hifumi's hand. Her heart thumps in place. She never wants to let go.
There are no means of turning back now. Not for fools, she has to remind herself. Not for queens.
"I'm sorry." Makoto stands up. Reluctantly, she tries to pull her hand up and away with her.
Hifumi does not let go.
Her heartbeat sounds like someone has swiped their hand down the keys of a piano. The sunlight has shifted just enough that the green in Hifumi's eyes show. For a moment, Makoto believes that Hifumi feels alone too. She can see it in the set of her eyebrows. In the shape of her mouth. The pressure of her fingers around Makoto's own.
Then Hifumi lets go.
Once again, Makoto just awkwardly stands there. The church might as well be deserted for all that she hears the people milling about them.
"Can I come here again?" Makoto asks Hifumi. "To see you?"
Hifumi looks a little surprised. Then her mouth eases into a small smile.
"Yes," she says. "Please do."