Hello! I have returned! With MORE.
Ld5: lol don't worry man. I'm glad you like it! And yeah, while initially rebellious Joker is also fun to write, I think it'd be more realistic if he has issues. Although... this story has more than just a few? Eh... sorry?
Without further ado, here ya go!
Chapter 5
Ren isn't sure how long they all remain there, in the back alley not too far from Shujin, with him holding Morgana uncomfortably close, as if his warmth will be spread into his heart, too.
But when he's of sound mind again, he sees a bottle of water being held before him, and he looks up to see Takamaki looking down at him, all the fire gone, snuffed out absolutely and undeniably. He reaches out to take it, his hand slippery and red, but he ignores her look of terror as he takes it with a small nod, the scraping of the glasses in his flesh negligible (he's experienced worse, he's been in worse pain, he's too used to it) as he uncaps the bottle and takes a sip.
"So," Takamaki says, sliding back down onto the ground beside him, hugging her own knees to her chest. He doesn't turn to look, but hums as an acknowledgement. "I know this isn't my place to say anything, but… I think I know what's happening. At least, just um… the gist of it?"
"Dude, this ain't the time to be saying this, though?" Sakamoto says with a small scowl.
"I know, just," Takamaki murmurs. Ren doesn't look up at her, instead focusing himself on rubbing along Morgana's spine. The not-cat looks like he wants to pull away, but purrs at Ren in the end, closing his eyes and twitching his ears a little, content (as if something like that could come from someone like him, Ren muses), paws kneading his wrist gently. "I dunno, I just wanna do something, you know? God, why do I feel so powerless with all these powers in me?"
"Welp, we can agree on that," Sakamoto says. Ren winces a little, pulling back his hand when he realizes a piece of broken glass has lodged in a little too deep. He carelessly pulls it out – catching Morgana looking and wincing at him from the corner of his eyes – before putting down the water bottle and holding the not-cat closer, gently, because he doesn't want to lose this warmth just yet.
"I'll be okay," He mumbles, his voice dry and scratchy. He must've been crying for a while, because a few hiccups are threatening to claw their way up his throat. But he ignores them easily (if you let out even a sound, that'll be ten whips for you, brat), biting hard into his lip until the same taste of blood and iron brings him back to earth. "…I'll be okay, just… gimme a few minutes."
He hears Sakamoto open his mouth, but no sounds accompany that, so he ignores it. After a moment, though, Takamaki whispers. "We'll stay with you until you think you can go back home."
Home? There's no such place as home. Nowhere is safe enough to be called home. Nowhere is warm. All rooms are cold and all eyes are hostile and— "…If you insist."
Ren is half surprised, now that he's fully on the ground, his mind calm to a degree, that Morgana is allowing him to do this. But then again, a deal for a deal, a favor for a favor – maybe this is just the not-cat holding up the end of his bargain. Ren decides not to think too much on it, however. Thinking still hurts, like dragging thorny maces along the inside of his torso and stripping his skin off of his muscles.
They stay silent for god knows how long before Ren finally feels his legs again, and he shifts, careful not to crush Morgana, before standing up on shaky legs. He feels hands hover over his arms again, and his immediate, thoughtless reaction is to square up his shoulders and tense up. They pull away, allowing Ren to breathe out the small pocket of air he's been holding into himself. He then murmurs, a bit unsure. "…Sorry. I… maybe we'll go into the Palace again in a few days. I can't—"
"Hey, s'cool, shits happen," Sakamoto says, his voice quieter than his usual volume. Ren only frowns, because this will only slow them down and it's his fault again— "Dude, seriously, we still have some time left. Rest up for a bit! We don't mind. Right, Takamaki, Morgana?"
"Right," The not-cat says without a pause, and Ren looks down – at the not-cat curling up in his arms, his head nudging Ren's thumb lightly – and opens his mouth to say something. Why? Or I don't believe you at the tip of his tongues, words that do not have the chance to get out when Morgana interrupts him with a firm voice. "Ren, take your time. We can't go about this so carelessly, you know."
"…Yeah, yeah," He mumbles. "Okay. Just – I'll try to get myself back to—"
"Hey, take your time, no need to rush," Takamaki states. He turns to look at her fully – for the first time in a few, what, minutes? Hours? – and finds that her smile is sad, understanding. But how could she understand? No one could, and she's here only because she's caught, only because she has a grudge with Kamoshida in the first place. Why would she— "Just… take care, okay? Can you go back home on your own? I'm free, so I can accompany you there."
"…I'm fine," He mumbles. Morgana, strangely, doesn't squirm as he shifts the not-cat in his arms. "I'll have to… have to get to Takemi-san's clinic to… get these looked at, anyways."
"Don't worry, I'll be with him," Morgana chips in, leaning his head over Ren's arm a little. "See you guys tomorrow. We could just hang out or something."
"Sure, man," Sakamoto says. "Take care, RenRen."
He lets their goodbyes roll off him without really listening to it.
He's tired.
Morgana is hiding in his bag as he sits on the clinic's bed, hands outstretched. The doctor looks like she wants to say a lot of things (wants to rip his head off with her hands), but doesn't, the words left boiling inside her eyes. She instead stabs his gut with her piercing look as she tends to his wounds, and he still couldn't help but flinch – not from the pain, but from the burn of her skin on his as she re-checks all the wounds after removing the glass shards from his hands.
The silence is heavy and cold, pulling at the tip of his toes and making his hair stands on end. He squirms a little under her scrutiny, biting his lip again – in the same place, with the same pressure, splitting it open the same way he did just not too long ago – and trying his best to stay his feet. He can't run, not yet, he has to actually pay her back, and—
Oh shit, a sane part of his proclaims. I don't have money.
"Um, I—" Ren begins, coughing a little to regain some semblance of normal voice. He frowns, the scar on his shoulder burning again. "I… I don't have the money, so uh… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"
"It's fine, kid," Takemi states simply, leaning over to the side to snatch needles and suturing materials, her eyes shifting between the makeshift table and his hands. She opens her mouth before closing it, her face contemplative, before she says quietly and with care that does not quite suit his first impression of her. "I won't ask how you got these, but… if you want to talk, I can listen. It's in my oath to keep patient's history secrets, after all."
"I don't want to talk about it," He murmurs back, knowing full well that he must've sound rather childish and even ungrateful, but how could he? If he talks about this with anyone, his father will know, and he'll be disciplined, each word beaten thoroughly into his bones like all the times before. He decides after a few seconds that he's coming off harsher than he's wanted, so he adds quietly. "…But… thank you for the offer, Takemi-san."
"Sure," She says easily, as if she's not bothered by his antics. She then carefully nudges at his palms, asking for his permission, a hand gesturing towards the equipment he's all too familiar with. "I'm going to stitch you up, because most of them are too deep to be left alone. It's going to hurt, but try not to winch too much, alright? Or it'll make my work harder."
Not a word, not a sound, not a twitch, brat. It's stupid enough of you to actually injure yourself like this. I've taught you better than this, and now I'm stuck taking care of you. If you make my job harder even for a split second, I'll whip your sorry excuse of an existence into shape. "…Yes, ma'am."
"You don't have to be so formal with me, kid," She says plainly, some sort of frown settling into her lips and making her curl her fingers almost threateningly over his wrist. Ren's breath hitches, and that seems to be enough to ease the scowl on her face. She sighs quietly, then, "Anyway… I won't ask for anything more, since you don't seem all that comfortable with it. Can I do anything else?"
"What do you want?" Ren asks almost on an instinctual level. Human relation exists as a resource to be exploited, to be used as one so wishes. And immediately, he shrinks back into himself, the reminder that he shouldn't say anything that makes him look like an ungrateful, disobedient mutt to other people – the one thing that he's already spectacularly failed at by what he's shown Morgana and Takamaki before – ringing at the forefront of his mind. Ren forces himself to continue quietly, "I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"It's okay, you have your reservations, just like I do," Takemi answers, the bite of the needle being plunged into his wrist noticeable, but not painful enough to make him pull away. "It's not easy to trust people when you've been through certain things before. I won't pry, but know that I think I understand, to a degree."
"…Thank you, ma'am," He decides to reply.
She only gives him a small smile. "Anyways, what I did just now is—"
"—Nerve block, because my wounds cover too large an area to use anesthesia on them individually," He recites what has been drilled into his brain for years, and when she looks at him with surprise, he only gives her a blank stare, trying to drain out any emotion on his face. "I've… been educated about that a long time ago, when I… fell, and gave myself a large wound on my leg."
Fell is the milder version of it, but no one can know of that. He's not exactly lying, after all—
"…You really are a strange kid," Takemi says, glancing back down at his hands again. "It'll take a while, and after that… hm, how about this? You come to my clinic from time to time, help me out with testing my original drug, and I'll treat your wounds free of charges. The medicine will still cost you money, though."
It's a much more forgiving deal than he thought he'd get. He doesn't expect himself to at all be treated free of charges, so this deal is quite a surprise, for him. Just testing out drugs – back alley and half-illegal as they are – isn't something he's a stranger to. He spies Morgana giving him a strange look, but he decides to ignore it and nods. "…That's generous of you, doctor. Thank you."
Again, Ren thinks he sees something in her eyes, some kind of curiosity that has yet to be sated. But it dissipates as soon as it comes up, and she sighs. "Only idiots or mad men would actually agree to this. But oh well – if you're alright with it, then it's a deal. Give me your numbers afterwards, so I can actually get in touch with you when I've finished synthesizing them."
"Yes, ma'am."
Ren focuses back onto his hand as she gently takes care of his wounds, oblivious to the analytic eyes the woman is giving him.
(The name of Death comes to him as a soft lullaby, calming him down and alerting him that the doctor, too, is one such Confidants Igor often speaks about. He still couldn't bring himself to yet trust anyone, but if this will allow him his power of the Fool, the Wild Card – then, so be it.
Somewhere in the World, a butterfly flaps its wings.)
April 20th, 2016 [Wed]
It's raining.
Unlike what most people would think, Ren loves the rain; the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting the steel-capped roofs and the cold that accompany it soothing and calm. Unlike the sun with its burning ray and its unforgiving heat and the snow with its biting cold and its blinding reflection, the rain is… calm, and the wetness feels nice.
(The rain would sooth his wounds and wash away his blood, ridding him of the rancid stench of decay and disease that would often cling to him like a parasite.
The rain would also mask his sobs and cries, allowing him moments to let out sound his father never wants him to make, allowing him to feel what his father never lets him feel.)
The infiltration of the Palace had just finished – they left off at the seventy percent mark, after all, and that's his fault and his alone that they have to stop because of his fucking panic attack – and the route to the Treasure has been secured. From Morgana's words, all they need to do now is to let the Ruler (let Kamoshida) knows that his distorted desire is a Treasure to give it a physical form that they could steal. He lets Sakamoto take care of it ("Tell him we'll steal his heart and send him the calling card!"), breaking himself away from them and heading back, with umbrella in hand this time, as soon as they are out of the Metaverse.
Ren lets his mind stands on idle as he watches the rain from his slightly cracked, black-tinted window, the stings on his hands negligible. The cold of the rain soothes it just fine, and he could handle the blade (blade that cuts and slices at flesh that is not his) and the gun (one that isn't pointed at his face) just fine, so no one says anything about it.
Ren ignores the buzz of his phone when he realizes it's from Sakamoto and Takamaki. He doesn't need their flimsy, courtesy worry to sway him any more than he is now. Now, he will focus on this changing of the heart, and if this one is true… that would mean that he'd be able to give Takamaki the ability to finally fly (to chase her own freedom). He's given them both the wings, and Sakamoto has already achieved his own freedom to fight for himself, while Takamaki still needs to avenge her friend to do that.
But if she does, then… maybe this is what he could do. He will never be free, his wings will never fly, but if he could give the chance to be among the stars to others, then he will do it.
Because no one else should have to go through what he had.
"Ren," Morgana's voice cut through his sphere of peace, and he grunts, but complies in the end. He turns to see the not-cat hopping up onto the bed, leaving some distance between him and Ren's leg. "Are you really sure we're going to do this on Friday? You've not said anything to anyone since the day before."
"I'm fine," He states flatly. His panic attacks and his missions are two different things; and with Arsene with him on the other side – the part of him that is bold and brave, that fears of nothing and cares about nothing – no stupid panic attacks would be able to get to him. He could always deal with the repercussion afterwards. He's been through it multiple times before, what difference would a few more make?
"I thought you were short-sighted," He hears Morgana says, pulling him out of his thoughts, and he glances over as the not cat tilts his head to the side, whiskers twitching minutely. "You wore glasses, after all. I thought you'd have replaced it by now."
"Wore them only to stay inconspicuous," He says, turning his eyes out the window again, letting the sound of rainfall dragging the hands of time forward. It would take a few more moments before Sakura closes the shop, and then he'll have to do inventory to earn his keep – and some extra money, something he still doesn't understand why Sakura would offer him – before heading to bed. "Besides, I don't have money to buy a new one. Rumors have already settled in anyways, so what the hell."
"You know, you look a lot fiercer without it," Morgana says, hopping up to the windowsill and blocking his vision. Ren growls, garnering no response from the not-cat. "I have to say, you have one handsome face."
He snorts. "What's this? You attempting to make small talk?"
"What? I can't make small talk with my recruit?" Morgana meows, tail slowly waving back and forth. Ren only scoffs, but not giving him a response, instead rolling his eyes and leaning back down onto his bed, hard but warmer than what he's ever slept on before. He closes his eyes, only for Morgana to disturb his peace and quiet again. "But seriously, I'm worried about you, Ren."
"Don't worry, your investments won't go to waste," Ren says, staring up at nowhere in particular, the cold of the rain starting to create fog at the edge of the window. "A favor for a favor, a deal for a deal."
"You're not—!"
Morgana looks like he wants to say something more, but he ends up closing his mouth when the stair creeks with the weight of footsteps. Ren gets up immediately, and greets Sakura with a bow. The man cocks an eyebrow at him, but shrugs. "The shop is closed. Come on. The quicker you get this done, the quicker you can go back to sleep."
"Yes, sir," Ren nods, putting up a hand to stop Morgana as he gets up and walks over, his shoulders slightly hunched down. He thinks the man has been watching him closely for the past few days now, and he could feel his own anxiety creeping up his heels and settling onto his spine. But if he notices anything, he doesn't say it, so Ren reigns in his urge to cower and focus on now.
"You eaten anything yet? Sorry I forgot to ask," The man says with a wave of his hand as they walk back down the steps.
"Oh, I'm… I'm fine, sir," He mumbles out. While fighting Shadows and traversing the Metaverse are that much more tiring than a plate of curry in the morning would help, Ren has no way of paying for more, and it's not Sakura's duty to keep him fed. He has only agreed to put a roof over Ren's head, and that's already enough – anything aside from that is a problem he'll have to figure out on his own. "I'll manage, I—"
"You still haven't answered my question," The man snarls at him, making Ren's mouth snapping shut painfully, his teeth clattering and sending a jolt of pain up his brain. He winces, and whether the man sees that or not is up for debate, with the man back turned on him like this. "So?"
"…I haven't, sir."
"When's last you've eaten? Lunch?"
Ren feels like he wants to lie, like he should, but he'll be seen through like all the times before, because his lie is weak and unconvincing. He bites back the urge to run again, his fingers quivering slightly. He inhales sharply once, stopping just beside the flat screen TV, "Um, I… last ate this morning—"
"You what!?" Sakura rounds on him, his voice sharp and thundering, banging on his eardrums and making him whimpers, his shoulders tense as he expects a hand on his cheek or his gut. When neither comes, he opens his eyes – he doesn't even realize when he had closed them – to see Sakura staring at him, his expression torn between surprise and something he couldn't quite name. Then, the man clicks his tongue and scratches the back of his head. "…Sorry, that came out a bit harsh. Well, all I serve here is curry, so take a seat first."
"But, the inventory—"
"It isn't going to run away, so just shut up and eat," The man half-growls at him, making him stop in his track and clamping his mouth shut. "And from now on, if you hadn't eaten anything yet, let me know. I'll whip up something for you after I close the shop."
"You don't have to, sir, I—" Ren says, swallowing back the fear that has settled into the base of his tongue, frowning minutely at himself. He doesn't want his father to know of this, because it would have meant that he's not trained well enough. "I'll not neglect my health from now on, and I saw the job magazine. I'll be able to get another part time job soon, so I'll—"
"Kid, this isn't a request, this is an order," The man glowers, and Ren feels like he wants to run. But he can't. Sakura is his guardian (his warden), and he can't afford to turn tail like this, unless words get out that he's an ungrateful brat that— "Seriously, take care of yourself better than this, will you?"
"…Sir, yes sir," Ren finally says, small and barely audible. He drags himself to the stool and sits as his guardian goes about making the plate of curry and brewing coffee that isn't meant for his tongue and doing whatever else. "I'll do better, sir. I'm sorry."
There is a grunt from the man, but no other word comes afterwards.
The rest of the night goes by under the tense, unbreathable silence, with Sakura's scrutinizing gaze looking and seeing every nooks and crannies of his paper-thin façade.
(He doesn't want to be seen. He doesn't want to be seen through like this, because they'll meet his father, and they'll be swayed, and his father will know that he hasn't been doing what he's supposed to do, and he will be punished and whipped and disciplined.
He doesn't want anyone to find out.
He doesn't want anyone to see him as he is.)
April 22th, 2016 [Fri]
The calling card has been delivered.
Ren has to resist every fiber in his being from making him run with Kamoshida's anger rising through the roof. And for a split second, his Shadow seems to sneer at Ren with the eyes that make his skin crawl and his blood runs cold in his veins. A predator, heart and soul, and they have all but sealed their fates; they either pull this off and change the man's heart, or they'll be expelled and he'll have to face the wrath of his father (his maker).
(Maker, creator, master over his life. Whatever anyone else say, his father is his owner, and he is bound to him for an eternity to come. But this choice, one that he makes on his own free will – he wants to see it through, because at the very least, he could free someone else from such a fate.
He feels Arsene shifts under his fingertips and dragging his claws across his ribs, as if discontent with his line of thought. But Arsene is just a part of him, not truly him. He doesn't reflect anything that Ren is, that Ren will be.
He will never be free, this much he knows. But he could free others, and that is what he will do.)
Ren hasn't been talking to the other two outside of infiltration of the Palace, and they've been respecting his wish for privacy (while his heart seems to yearn for their presences, he knows he cannot have them) for the most part. Takamaki would often glance back to look at him during classes, and he would always ignore her in favor of answering the teacher's questions, ones to keep him on his toes, ones to mark him and make sure that he will abide by the rules of this place.
Morgana, surprisingly, still allows him to hold his warm feline body in his arms before he sleeps, and even when he would squirm at times, Ren could tell that he's tolerating Ren's insistence for his warmth (one that is not human-like, one that doesn't make his skin burn), and he is grateful. He still nags for Ren to exercise or to make tools, but not as much as Ren thinks someone who's made a deal with him would, so he doesn't say anything.
The day ticks by slowly, the only thing that marks the passing of time the occasional tolls of the bell that rocks through his entire being like gunfire, reminding him of the time from before, where everything is dark and cold and lack the scent of caffeine and woods and curry. Ren only looks out the window and towards the street, Morgana's tail poking his arm from time to time, something that doesn't make him finch away, something that soothes his nerve and calms him down (even if it shouldn't).
When the last bell tolls, Ren waits until everyone but Takamaki remains. After the door is slid shut, she turns to him, looking at him with warmth rather than the blazing haze she's been wearing like second skin. "Are you ready to do this, Amamiya?"
"No choice," He says, pulling Morgana out of the desk and placing him on the table. He then frowns a little when he realizes that he has never explained anything to them. Even if he still distrusts them, and still does not believe in the concept of friends without the need for a deal in return, they have been giving him the space that he needs and everything else. They deserve to know his thoughts, just to make sure that he's repaying them enough. "And… Before we all go in, I have something I need to tell all of you."
"Sure," Takamaki says easily as she gets up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "We're here if you want to say anything."
He still doesn't understand their needlessness to poke and prod, but he counts this as his blessing, so he simply nods and waits until Morgana climbs into his bag before heading out.
It takes but ten minutes for Sakamoto to join them on the rooftops, and once he does, he lets Takamaki informs the other boy as he lets Morgana rests on his lap. He hums, his finger touching the not cat's head and avoiding the little patch of hair at the base of his tail, earning himself a satisfied meow. Ren doesn't smile, but he lets his body relaxes just a bit, a sigh escaping through his lips as he leans back against the wall, his heart hammering away inside his chest.
I need to tell them. They have to know, because I haven't been doing enough to repay the favor.
"So, what issit that you wanna talk about?" Takamaki says, leaning down a little to meet his eyes. He still couldn't quite believe the look she's wearing – everyone is the same; they all want the same thing, they want something from him in return, so why is she looking like she's worried? "It's fine if you don't wanna, though. Or we can wait after we steal the Treasure."
"A favor for a favor, a deal for a deal," Ren says, frowning minutely when the words crawl up his arms and clinging to the edge of his spine. "All of you have… helped me before, so at least you should know what I think about you."
"…Oh," Is all Sakamoto says as he sits down beside Ren, a hand's breadth of space in between. "Sure, I guess. But I think you're a cool guy and a friend, just so you know."
"That's what I don't understand," He says, catching Morgana looking up at him with a tilt of his head. He hears Takamaki letting out a short, confused hum, so he continues. "I've… never believed in the concept of friends who don't want something from me. They are all the same; they are nice to you because you can give them back something that they want."
"And that's what you think of us," Takamaki says quietly, her voice strangely leveled, but with disbelief clear in her tone. He doesn't look up – couldn't look up. "You think we're here because there's something we want from you."
"Sakamoto's different," Ren says, glancing at the other boy, who's looking more contemplative than his bearing suggest he would do. "He's… since the beginning, he just sticks by me, ignoring all the rumors and being cordial with me. He saved my life as much as I've saved his, so in a sense, we're equals. I think… I have some faith in him. Faith I don't know what to do with."
Ren then looks down at Morgana, and briefly up at Takamaki without so much as looking her in the eye.
"Takamaki, you… I don't know, I don't trust you yet, as I've said before. You are… just like the rest, you believed in the rumors, you judged me and… yeah. But you've stayed by me when I was having a… panic attack, so I think I'll tolerate you, for now. Give you the wings you need to fly. I'll have to see about you, but… I don't know, I'm still not so sure."
"That's not as bad as I think it'd be. I'm glad you think you could put your faith in me," Takamaki states simply, making Ren's heart clenches a little. Maybe she's different, maybe she's not, but no one could keep up an act forever. He'll see.
"What about me?" Morgana speaks up, low and quiet, some sort of nervousness under his voice as his paws knead and push at his wrists.
"You want something from me," He says, trying to keep the venom and the coldness out of his voice. He is successful, to a degree, but his distrust is right there for all to see. "Just like everyone else, just like everything else. A favor for a favor, a deal for a deal, right? I don't trust you. But you've helped me, so… Thank you. I think."
"…Well, can't say I blame you," The not-cat says, nudging Ren's thumb with his head. Ren allows himself to brush the pad of his finger against his head. "But hey, know that I actually worry about you, you know. You are not just an investment to me."
"Aren't I, now?" He snorts. "But, oh well… I guess we'll see," Ren hums, letting his legs relax on the floor, ignoring the yelp Morgana sends his way. "So… there's that, I guess. I'm still not trusting the concept of friends who don't want anything in return yet, but… if we can really change Kamoshida's heart and give someone the wings they need to fly, then… maybe. Maybe I'll start to understand it more."
"Take your time, man," Sakamoto grins almost too easily. "I mean, I obviously don't know what the eff you have gone through in your life before, and it couldn't have been easy. But hey! We're friends now. Lifesaving aside, you're a cool guy, like I've said. I'll just stay here until you're ready to talk, y'know."
"Me too," Takamaki smiles, leaning back on one leg and twirling her hair with a finger – a sort of nervous tic, perhaps. "I mean, I get you. The second time we talked, it's just me pushing my anger on you, and that's really shitty on its own. But… I'll try to be better. I'm really sorry for hurting you."
"Welp, I've gotta say, this new knowledge really hurts me," Morgana pouts a little. "But… I guess it couldn't be helped, because I did ask for a lotta things in return before. Still! I'm genuinely worried about you as a teacher would a talented disciple, you know!"
"Mhm," Ren hums noncommittally. "…Thank you, all of you."
"Now that that's done with," Sakamoto grins, standing up and pulling out his phone. "Are we ready to roll? Let's steal his Treasure and make him pay for the shit he's pulled!"
Ren still doesn't quite believe in the concepts of friends yet, but maybe—
—Just maybe, he could trust them, like he never does anyone else before.
One thing he could say for sure now, with emotions he's never be able to have in the real world before, is this; Kamoshida and his pink, egotistic ass can go suck a dick.
Not only do they have to eliminate the cognitive Mishima and Suzui – something that makes every fiber of his being screams in discontent and disgust that he's never allowed to feel, something that makes his blood and Arsene's flame rise and boil like lava – they also have to listen to his tirade about shits that just makes him want to rip off the man's spine and feed it back to him.
(Arsene might have been born from his repressed disgust and anger, Ren realizes. Something he's never been allowed and never allowed himself to feel. Something that is suppressed by fear for his worthless, obedient life, something that is put inside a box because he is far too weak to stand for himself.
Arsene hums, as if acknowledging his theory, and he couldn't help but laugh at himself.
He is weak and gullible, whipped and trained to be the perfect mutt. And this anger isn't something he should have had – but here it is, in the form of the devil himself, beating wings in time with his pounding heart. And in here, where he could let his anger reign—
—He is free.)
His volleyball spikes also hit like fucking runaway freight trains, goddamnit.
"Joker!" Panther calls, calling forth Carmen and healing him with the dim glow of Dia, and he grunts a thank you as he springs up onto his feet. "You okay?"
"Yeah," He grunts, Arsene's name at the tip of his tongue. He glances to Mona, who's climbing up the side pillar and to the second floor, ready to knock the crown off of Kamoshida's bloated head. He flicks his eyes back to the demon who bathes himself in the form of man, pulling off his mask and calling out for another name as barrages of volleyball assault come near them. "Come, Obariyon!"
The little beast springs to life, and dark light fills the room, slowing down the assault and making the hit no more than an insect's bite. Ren bares his teeth into a grin when Kamoshia flails with displeasure, his knife up high in the air. When it comes down, he shifts his tongue once more, allowing Arsene to come forth and flutter his wings, calling for the wind of oblivion that blasts away the impure gust that rises from under Kamoshida's crown and sending the golden knife away from its intended path.
"Mona! Now!" Ren calls when he sees Kamoshida staggers, and the not-cat immediately pounces onto the crown, knocking it off the false king's head. When Kamoshida wails and tries to take his fallen crown back, he shifts Arsene forward and ordering his other self to beat the object away from the king's hand with the flap of his wings. "Oh no you don't!"
"No! You worthless trash can't have it!" Kamoshida barks, irate, but his bites are waning, weak and easily ignored. "Give it back! Give me back my crown! I am the king! My precious!"
Ren bares his teeth, anger rising up to replace everything else in his entire being. The burns of cut wounds on his hands like a raging fire as he rips his mask off once more, calling back Arsene into the world, his laughter maddened and horrific even to Ren's own ears. He then snaps, curses and shadows dancing along his fingertips as he weaves them into the shape of Kamoshida's defeat. "We're taking you down here and now! Arsene!"
The Prince of Thieves laughs and laughs, maniac cackles filling the stale air as shadows gather around and under Kamoshida's feet before exploding into one gigantic pillar of darkness that engulfs everything in its path whole. The gust of violent wind forces Ren to guard himself, and it takes a while for the gale to subside – and when it does, Kamoshida is gone—
"Oh shit!" Skull snarls as Kamoshida rolls forward, picking up his Treasure and bolting to the only path opened to him – to the balcony of his decrepit castle, overlooking the shadowed world as if bearing down and sneering upon the weaker ones.
When he's cornered, Ren feels the fury in his veins simmering into embers of repressed emotions, and he forces himself to breathe – he cannot kill Kamoshida's Shadow, because it isn't his place to decide. If anyone, it should be either Panther or Skull, someone who's been personally wronged by this piece of trash before. And so, Ren steps back, the tingles of curses and darkness at his fingertips, waiting for his command, for the snap of his fingers to unleash his rage should it comes to that.
"What's wrong?" Panther says, snapping Ren out of his adrenaline-filled haze. He takes a step back, just enough for the other two to take charge, unwilling to take away the chance for revenge they both seek. "Not running away, Kamoshida? You're a great athlete, aren't you?"
As if it's within his right to get angry at them, Kamoshida rounds upon them, eyes blown wide and teeth bared – cornered to the very core, much like how Ren was, and still is – before spouting more vile words through his teeth. "It's always been like this… all those goddamn hyenas forcing their expectations on me! I'm doing this all for them, what's wrong about demanding a reward for that!?"
"Excuses, excuses!" Ren snarls, Arsene's wings beating all too quickly, and it takes everything that he has to reign in the foreign sensation of being able to feel rage so freely in. He breathes through his gritted teeth and snarls. "You have a choice to forsake glory for humanity, or to become a monster asking for something you shouldn't have. You chose the latter! You had a choice, while I don't! None of us do!"
Kamoshida grounds his teeth as he looks around, as if to find an exit that he no longer has. Ren thinks he spies Panther looking at him with a strange, calculative look, but he isn't given the chance to ponder when her eyes become fierce and predatory, Carmen snapping forward at the wave of her fingers. "Scared? Right now, that view – it's the same one Shiho saw when you cornered her."
Panther then stalks forward, the flame adorning her every step, leaving scorching footprints in her wake. The blaze gathers upon her shoulders and Carmen's hands, and Ren could feel the heat seeping into his marrows and burning away his anger, as hers now rise above his own, personal and vengeful.
"I'm sure she was scared too," Panther continues, her anger frigid cold unlike the furious firestorm that has gathered at her command. And, for a moment, Ren thinks he feels a stab of jealousy – that he, too, might have at one point wished for someone who would be able to get angry in his stead. But now, all of those pointless wishes are gone; he isn't even the master of his own life. Why would someone else want to hold his so highly within their hearts? He's then snapped out of his thoughts when her voice rings through the empty balcony like sharp knife through butter. "Except she had no choice but to jump."
(He wishes he could do that. He wishes he was – is – brave enough to take charge of his own fate and plunge himself into the cold concrete, to end himself and be free. But even that choice eludes him; he isn't afraid of death, but rather of garnering his father's anger. What if he had failed? What if he had been so weak and incompetent as to be unable to take his own life? What hell would await him then?)
"So?" Panther says as she walks forward, pushing Kamoshida's back against the railing, dangerously close to fall down to the earth below. Even if this world is strange and cold and twisted, Ren has no doubt that the man would perish should he take that leap – or being forced to. "Will you jump? Or would you rather die here?"
Ren sees Skull open his mouth, as if to object it, so he shakes his head before glancing towards the girl, whose blazing inferno could char his very soul. "It's your call. I think… I would understand, to a degree. He has caused you grieves, after all."
"N-no! Please wait!" Shadow Kamoshida says, sweats that has formed from both the searing heat and the despair rolling down his chin and onto his crown, one that he tossed over to Ren before kneeling down to the ground. "I beg you, just forgive me! Take it, take the crown! Please—"
"I bet everyone else asked you the same thing, but what did you do?" She snarls, sending a fireball his way and singing a part of his fur coat black, gaining herself a fearful cry. "You took everything from them! All of them!"
"…I accept defeat," The Shadow mutters, looking down and continuing with less panic and more of a grim acceptance, one that Ren knows all too well – but one that is different from his. Kamoshida doesn't repent because he thinks he should, but because he has nowhere else to go, no place else to run to. It makes him sick – but alas, he stills his hand. He isn't the master of lives, not even his own. This isn't his call to make. "If you strike me down, my real self will go down, too. You have that right, since you've won."
Panther's hand shakes with something more than just pure, unadulterated anger that has been radiating from her body for a while now, and she clenches it into a fist before frowning, lips set and jaws tight.
And then, a fireball flies Kamoshida's way.
"Ann!" Skull cries, but stops himself when the flame hits nothing but the pillar above Kamoshida's form, searing the thing into charcoal that collapses into itself with only the breeze from this windless world.
"No," She says coldly, Carmen retreating back into her form, allowing Ren to breathe normally again. "If his mind shuts down, he can't admit his crime."
"I've lost… and you're through when you lose," Kamoshida says, looking down, shoulders hunched and head sagged, the form of someone who has lost everything (but he doesn't lose anything, not his freedom, not his life. What right does he has to say that he's through?) and defeated to the very bones. "What am I supposed to do now?"
"Atone for what you've done," Ren says, Arsene laughing lightly in his heart, his wings fluttering inside the windless void and calling forth bravery and anger that make him into Joker. Ren is meek and weak of will, but Joker is different – and here and now, Joker can stay, as a part of him he never had and will never have the chance to wield out there. "If you really are a part of Kamoshida, I think you already know what you have to do. Don't you?"
There is a single second's worth of pause before Kamoshida nods, light enveloping his body as he vows his own reform. "Alright… I'll leave now and return to my real self. I'll make certain that—"
The Shadow dissipates into droplets of lights before he even finishes his sentence, and for a second Ren's rage flares up, only to simmer down into embers in the pit of his stomach. For a moment there, it looks as if Kamoshida's shadow is regaining some semblance of conscience – but he will not believe in it until the real Kamoshida actually confesses to his crime. Until then, he'll have his reservations.
When Ren lets out the breath he's been holding, the whole place suddenly shakes as if struck by a great earthquake, and he faintly hears Morgana says, "Just so you guys know, we don't have time to waste here. This place is about to collapse."
Ren frowns. How does that even make sense—
Oh.
It's because the Ruler is gone.
He isn't given the time to ponder on it as the castle starts collapsing on itself as he hightails himself out of the place, with the other two following closely behind.
(Somewhere in his heart, Arsene laughs, his wingbeats sharp and burning, searing every cell in his body like wildfire, telling him that this is the sort of liberty wielding his anger would feel like. Telling him that this is the sort of freedom being his own self would feel like.
But he is the Fool, empty, without a heart of his own. How could he have something like his own self?
Ren doesn't know what he should think of it yet, but for now—
—For now, he allows himself to smile.)
Ciao! See you next time!