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Longing to Reawaken (PART 1)
Friday—July 25, 2021
Futaba loved to sleep and she knew her stamina was (in lack of better words) pathetic compared to an average teen her age. To make matters worse, she was friends with people who were all very active—yet another stark contrast. She rolled over and turned on her phone to check the time—shocked to see it was well into the late morning by the time she awoke, yet Futaba couldn't bring herself to want to get out of bed.
She stopped short when she saw a new notification for Ann's social media page. Her thumb hovered over the bar for a few moments before opening it, freezing in her spot when she saw the new picture posted of her friend group and the date stamped on it. Where was she when they were out? Why were they dancing in the street? Since when did Yusuke dance?
Futaba cursed her stupid habit of sleeping through everything. She felt a surge of anger towards her friends—why hadn't they woken her? The internal debate of whether to confront them or bury it became the next question. She tossed the covers off herself and grumbled the entire time she was getting ready.
By the time she found herself staring down her reflection, Futaba had lost all momentum and courage for a confrontation. She sighed and tied her hair back before slipping on a jacket. The former Medjed slipped out into the hallway, where she nearly slammed into Ryuji.
"Shit, sorry," her friend said and grinned. "And the sleeping beauty awakens."
"Is everyone else awake?" Futaba muttered, deciding to ignore that comment.
"Dude. It's like 10:00. Everyone's been awake for hours," Ryuji said and rattled the keys before pocketing them. "We were gonna head to Central Park before we met Ann's family."
"Am I invited, too?" Futaba snorted, unable to help herself this time.
Ryuji and Ren, who had just rounded the corner to look for his friend, both looked equally taken aback. Ryuji sputtered for an answer, eyes widening, but Ren put a hand on his shoulder and steered the blonde behind him.
Futaba had always been on the receiving end of Ren's protectiveness so it was a new phenomenon to be on the receiving end of his defensiveness. Behind those glasses, she caught a glimpse of hardening gray eyes of a very intense gaze. She took a step back and cleared her throat.
"What's wrong?" Ren asked, voice just a hint lower than usual and if someone wasn't paying very close attention to his pitch, it would have gone unnoticed.
"I saw that you guys were out last night," she said, trying to summon some kick to her voice but only finding it to be small—small and sad rather than angry. "Why didn't you invite me?"
"You were asleep," the older teen replied firmly but softened his tone. "We didn't want to wake you. We know you need rest when it counts."
"I—"
"Not causing trouble back here, are we, kid?"
Futaba was not the only one to jump at the sound of an additional voice. Sojiro came from the kitchen area with a plate of food for her. Ren took a step back and lowered his head respectfully.
"Remember what we said," Sojiro whispered to Ren, although Futaba was very much able to hear that.
"Yeah," Ren said again with a nod of his head. "Yeah."
Her curiosity was piqued, but she put it on the back-burner in favor of eating breakfast to avoid a fuss. She grabbed the plate Sojiro held out for her and feigned a convincing smile. Her father gave her a smile in return and departed from the hall, Ren in tow and Ryuji following Ren. Of all the confrontation scenarios she ran through her head, Futaba was not expecting this one.
She ate her breakfast in the solitude of the room before coming out to find the others waiting in the living room. Her eyes automatically sought out Yusuke in the crowd, but something close to embarrassment burned through her body like a nasty vice—she was sure Ren told everyone about it all. Futaba lifted a meek hand in greeting and pushed her glasses farther up her nose.
"When are we meeting Ann's parents?" she dared to ask.
"Tonight," Ann said and smiled—a real one that made Futaba's squirming insides cease their twisting. Of course, the wielder of the alluring dancer would be the one to make things feel okay. "At Carmine's Italian Restaurant in Times Square."
Futaba's eyes widened before excitement flooded her, replacing every ounce of ill-feelings. "Italian? Ooh! With noodles? And spaghetti?"
"For a place that's not Italy—they've got some solid Italian restaurants," Ryuji said with a nod.
"The flavors will sing you the most harmonious song," Yusuke agreed.
Futaba folded her hands behind her back as they shared a few moments of silence between them. "I heard you guys were going to see Central Park?"
"Yeah! Come on!" Ann said at once, beaming at her once more. "You can see the real Central Park. Not the one in the Metaverse!"
Futaba's heart skipped a few beats but Ann spoke as if she was there to finish Gahr's mission with them. The inclusion felt nice even though it was not appropriately given.
"You won't need your jacket," Makoto warned her.
Heat never bothered Futaba and there really wasn't an instance she could remember where it did. If she could survive summers with a jacket while road tripping across Japan while running from the police, then she could deal with the summers here.
"Going out?" Sojiro's voice inquired as he passed them by in the kitchen. When the group chorused the answer, the older man turned to Ren of all people and looked at him over the time of his glasses. "Look out for them, kid."
The ravenette nodded and ran a hand through his hair, rising to his feet and pocketing his phone. Futaba thought it was weird Sojiro would say that to him, but no one else seemed as surprised as she felt, which meant this must be a relatively normal occurrence.
Futaba regarded Ren for a moment then blinked. While he was the leader of the Phantom Thieves, she never took him as the leader in the friend group, always believing that title went to Makoto…but now that she really stopped to think about it, Ren did have a sort of leader-type air about him that made the others accept him as the frontman. She grunted and silently wondered just exactly where she fell in this group dynamic hierarchy—although she wasn't even sure if she wanted to know.
The Phantom Thieves took to the streets and Futaba seriously underestimated the heat. Despite the summer temperatures being quite similar between here and home, New York City felt much stuffier. Sumire fell back in step with Futaba and gave her a sympathetic smile.
"Are you okay? I know crowds aren't your thing."
"It's okay," Futaba replied and tugged weakly at the collar of her shirt like it would make a difference. "It's not the crowd that's making it hard right now."
"Mako-chan told you to keep the jacket at home," Haru said with a giggle.
"I can hold it," Ren offered and extended a hand so she could pass it to him.
Futaba was about to answer when she could feel the piercing gaze of Akechi staring at her from Ren's side. He whispered something only the bespectacled teen could hear, but it was enough to boil her blood.
"Seriously, Akechi?" she snapped and waved Ren's hand away.
The truth about her mother and Akechi's involvement hardened her heart towards him and wiped out any chances of sympathy. Like Haru, Futaba wasn't so sure she could ever forgive the rat for what he did, so any little thing he did would immediately anger her.
"Go on ahead," the smug swine said to Ren and dipped his head. "I'm sure she wants to have a go at me."
He wasn't wrong.
"Keep it civil," Ren said seriously.
Akechi merely hummed as the Leader herded everyone forward. At first, Futaba wanted to go with them just to have the opportunity to ignore him, but her thirst for this confrontation was a little too grand to let it go.
"I'm not one for formalities," Akechi said the moment he fell in step with her (just like Sumire, but this time she hated it). "You discovered my prominent role in the death of your mother."
"You're sounding too proud," Futaba said through gritted teeth, making sure to keep her anger in check. If it came down to it, Futaba would never win a physical match against him. Their height and weight difference alone was a surface-level reason. Still...Ren would defend her…
"Proud is inaccurate," Akechi replied and adjusted his black glove. "And not synonymous with unapologetic."
"You don't regret it?" Futaba said coldly, unable to believe her ears. How could they ever let him back in? While he saved their lives in Shido's Palace…
Would one good deed redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness (in Yusuke's words)? It still was a mystery as to why he was accepted amongst her peers of all people but Ren…? She had to know.
"No," Akechi said simply.
"Why?" Futaba demanded, finding strength in her voice.
"I refuse to be tethered by a contrite heart."
Somewhere very deep down, she could appreciate that philosophy, but she was annoyed by it now.
"Why did they ever let you come back?" Futaba pondered out loud, shaking her head in disbelief. "You would think they'd find what you did unforgivable."
"What vendetta do they have against me other than a select few people?"
"Besides the fact that you tried to kill us all? Maybe the fact that you betrayed us," Futaba snorted in sarcasm, unable to believe they were really having this conversation. "Or the fact that you openly mocked us, threatened us, used us. All unforgivable things that we aren't going to quickly get over. But it's not like you didn't know…"
"Do I need to relay the definition of a vendetta," Akechi said with a click of his tongue.
At first, Futaba was offended by the sanctimony in his voice, but she kept her jaws clamped shut to hear him out.
"A vendetta, by text, is a blood feud often between family members," Akechi said and held up a finger to prevent her from interrupting. "Everything you listed is right, but whatever antipathy towards you was irrelevant to the true vendetta between me and my father."
"You expect me to be okay with everything?"
"You have the liberty to feel as you please," Akechi said with that flippancy she had come to hate so much. "As much as I do."
"Goro," Ren's voice said from ahead; he stopped in his tracks and beckoned the Detective forward.
Futaba was left with her mouth hanging open as the other walked away with little care in the world for what they were talking about. However, she did not have time to ponder ways to smother him in his sleep; Futaba's eyes soon landed on green vastness, scenery completely different from the concrete buildings she was used to seeing.
Central Park was as large as the one she visited in the Metaverse, but this one did not seem as daunting. This time, she could take the time to appreciate the size and beauty.
"What a magnificent sight," Yusuke murmured as he ventured up to her side. His hand went to her waist as he inhaled deeply. "And an even better treat when I can share it with you."
For the first time, she let herself release the tension she held from Akechi.
Futaba hummed in response though her chest tightened considerably as she looked up at those very intimidating yet gentle black irises.
"I see why you like it here so far, Inari...it's different from Tokyo."
"It, too, is a welcome change to be able to speak to you in person rather than through a screen," Yusuke added and bit his lip.
"I get why you wouldn't want to come back," Futaba mumbled before she could check herself. It was a sore subject and often the premise of their fights or disagreements if she couldn't quite call them fights. Still, there were times it left her in her tears.
"Art dwells in every corner of the world, taking the form of nothing absolute," Yusuke replied in such a perfect way. "It is my dream to explore what had once been charted but not appreciated."
Futaba envied his taste for adventure and while she had some desire for something just like that, she knew she had no chance. Just coming to the park was exhausting and she was already losing stream. However, how would she ever rebuild her stamina if she did not push herself?
"Oi! Yusuke," Ryuji called out as he bounded over to them, grinning impishly. "Let's go club hopping tonight!"
"Absolutely not," Makoto interjected sternly, scowling at the very idea. She put her hands on her hips. "I will not condone illegal activity no matter how minor the offense."
"Don't worry about it," Ryuji said offhandedly but was meet with another steely glare. "What? Loads here do it. If you think my guy's record made him look bad, you should see some of the kids our age here. They make him look tame."
"There's a small chance we could get Futaba through," Haru said in a much more pleasant tone.
"We got Sumire through," Ryuji pointed out.
Futaba did not like the way they were talking about her like she wasn't there but suddenly she felt a hint of a spark inside her that made her want to get out of her comfort zone.
"It's not worth the risk," Makoto reminded him reasonably. "And do you really think she's going to do well in a crowd like that?"
"We'll compromise," Ren cut in and held up a hand to stop the two from getting into another petty row. "I'll think of something."
Futaba had the sinking feeling like she was some kind of burden to the rest of her friends who all just wanted to have normal social lives. But, she didn't have time to waste sulking over that. Sumire sidled up to her and gave her a shy smile.
"Are you excited for dinner with Ann's family?" she inquired, speaking rather quickly as if nervous about something.
Futaba, who wanted Yusuke to stay by her side, watched in dismay as he gave the two of them privacy to talk while he went with Ryuji to Akechi and Makoto.
"Yeah," she answered a bit unenthusiastically.
"I guess I'm just nervous," Sumire admitted, still talking at a rapid pace. She wrapped her arms around herself with a fretful expression. "I didn't expect Ann to invite me, but sometimes I feel like I'm not giving her a choice and she's not really giving me a choice."
"Huh?"
"I suppose being in this group through one mutual friend will make you feel left out…" she concluded with a sigh, but she perked up afterwards. "Although everyone's special in their own way."
Futaba, once again, felt her mind slipping away from the conversation, but it was something her brain did when she started feeling overwhelmed by the overstimulation of socialization. She did her best to stay in the present and focused, but the harder she tried, the more fatigued she became.
"Ren always lent an ear when I needed to talk about my problems," Sumire began, just getting warmed up in this long-winded rant. "And I learned that Yusuke loves ballet. He's my new dance partner and Goro-senpai—"
"Wait, 'Goro-senpai'?" Futaba butted in with a frown. "Akechi?"
Sumire just gave her a puzzled look.
"I didn't know he was so popular," she mumbled.
There was a hint of bitterness or something else, but it was said in a tone that she normally did not use. However, Futaba immediately regretted doing so, not wanting to get into this conversation right now.
Unfortunately, Sumire was much too keen on picking up the smallest changes in pitch.
"Yes...I know everyone has their reservations about him, but he—"
"Yeah," Futaba replied before she could get the ball rolling.
She even made sure her tone was lighter and rubbed her arms self-consciously. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to tell Sumire the truth about Akechi and burst that blissful little bubble of hers.
After deciding the only company she wanted was that of Yusuke's, she eventually quickened her pace and met up with the tallest Phantom Thief in hopes of having a far more pleasant conversation with him. She promised she would not get into an argument about him leaving Tokyo…
"Futaba, dear," he said as he smiled warmly at her. "Your face is flushed more vividly than my vermillion paint."
"You're so extra, Inari," Futaba grumbled but she immediately broke into a smile of her own, having long gotten used to his eccentric demeanor and even felt comfortable displaying her own quirkiness. "You could've just said red."
"But you see...it's not red, it's vermillion," he said and brushed her face with a thin hand, those talented fingers leaving a trail of electricity on her skin.
"Okay, okay," Futaba said and resisted the temptation to reach up and touch where his hand was a moment ago. "Vermillion then…"
Central Park was a place Futaba saw herself not really giving a second thought about. It was a large, green space in the middle of an overcrowded city. Tokyo had plenty of those...but this was different. Now that she could share the views and experiences with someone else, it made the journey all the sweeter and more memorable.
Never would she have ever expected to be in New York City and if her friends would have never come here, she would have gone on blissfully thinking it was just another city and probably thinking it was the capital of the States.
Who knew one person would make such a difference?
Futaba, however, was exhausted by the time they explored most of Central Park. To make matters worse, she was definitely hot and regretful for bringing a jacket in the midsummer heat. Her feet were all but dragging by the time the afternoon passed. Around 15:00, Makoto finally told them to head back for the day so they could get ready for the evening. Futaba was only too happy about that.
However, that meant walking all the way back out of Central Park and then some. Home couldn't come any sooner. She welcomed the AC of the townhouse that slapped her in the face. Futaba let out a huff of relief, already itching to go back and get some sleep.
And then it sunk in…she was going to dinner with friends and strangers alike with no idea what to wear or what to expect. She rummaged through her things and decided the one dress she packed was going to have to be good enough. Futaba never understood makeup so she never bothered, but now she was starting to wonder whether that was stupid of her or not; little things such as that made her anxiety go through the roof, but she never wanted to admit she was stressing over an event that hasn't even happened yet.
"Futaba?"
She jumped at Sojiro's voice but was grateful he was there; rushing to the door, she yanked it open and practically dragged her father inside, desperation written all over her face.
"What's going on?" Sojiro asked, frowning in concern.
"I don't know what to do," she fretted and ran a hand down her face wearily. "I don't even know if this is okay to wear! What is everyone else wearing? Can you check?"
She let out a frustrated sigh.
"Urgh, I don't have high enough stats for this, Sojiro," Futaba finished and wrapped her arms around herself. "What should I do?"
"Life isn't a video game, Futaba," Sojiro said and took a seat on the edge of Ren's bed, gesturing to the space beside him. Once she sat down, he patted her knee comfortingly. "There are no stats required for this. Only the belief you have in yourself and your friends, who will be there for you when you need them most. Right?"
Futaba looked at her hands that were twisting in her lap. Logically, it made sense, but putting life in terms of video games (something she understood better than the real world, itself) was more comforting than facing reality the way she was supposed to.
"I don't want them always having to look after me," she admitted in a small voice.
"Of course it won't be forever," Sojiro said with a chuckle, folding his hands over one knee as he leaned back. "Did I look after the kid in my attic this entire time? No. I let him branch out in his own way."
"I don't get it," Futaba said with her eyebrows drawn together.
"I'm not looking after him, Futaba-chan," Sojiro explained gently. "I'm just there for him."
Futaba sniffled and combed her fingers through her hair. Small words, but comforting nonetheless. She bit her lip and leaned back on the bed, still staring at her own knees. While she trusted her father, she could only hope what he said was true. How long would it take for them to stop seeing her as this fragile thing? Someone they always had to watch out for? A burden?
How long would it take for her to stop seeing herself as such?
Futaba looked away and changed the subject before she lost the courage to speak.
"Where are you going tonight?"
"A play…" Sojiro said and shook his head at himself as if it amused him. "I got tickets to Broadway from old regulars of mine once they heard I was going to New York City."
"Really?" Futaba said, eyebrows shooting upwards.
"I probably won't understand most of it, but the music is supposed to be good."
"What time?" Futaba asked, now curious and wondering if she should just blow off the dinner to go with him.
"It starts at 22:00. It's about three hours long, but these tickets will get me backstage access and time to meet the cast after the play," Sojiro grunted and shrugged his shoulders. "That's why I don't think I'll understand much, but it's worth a go given how expensive these are and…"
"You tried to sell them before you came," Futaba filled in with a giggle. "Of course."
"So, I might as well enjoy it," Sojiro said and smiled from the corner of his mouth. "But if you need me, just call me and I'll leave."
"No, no!" Futaba said and flapped her hands at him. "You need to go out more. Consider this your vacation! I'll be fine."
"I know you will be," Sojiro said softly before returning to his normal volume. "Some of those boys are troublemakers. Keep an eye on them for me."
Futaba smiled back. Perhaps tonight wouldn't be so difficult. If Sojiro could find it in himself to enjoy a night out, she failed to see why she couldn't either.
She followed Sojiro out the door of the bedroom and ventured down the hall and towards the kitchen. Despite it being student housing, she was surprised at its size. In the kitchen, she could see the backs of her friends, recognizing the waterfall of blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, spiky blonde hair that looked like someone attempted to run a comb through it…
Futaba cleared her throat and joined the group, stopping only when they all turned around to greet her. Sumire was the first one her eyes laid upon. The redhead adorned this sequin, pearly purple-white gown that was definitely brighter than Futaba's future. It nearly reached the floor and would have if it were not for her heels. She dipped her head then went into a full bow.
"You look beautiful, Futaba-senpai!"
Futaba had almost forgotten how much Sumire liked to call everyone her senpai.
"Thank you for coming," Ann said, giving her an almost blinding smile. "I know this can't be easy for you."
Futaba looked at Ann next. She was pretty sure the color the blonde pretty much owned was red—even more so than the one whose arms she was currently in. Her dress was far simpler than Sumire's, but it was equally as beautiful. For a moment, she could understand why everyone stared at her a little longer than the others. Her golden heels put Ann just above Ren's shoulders, and now Futaba felt shorter than ever.
"We should leave before it gets too late. We can't predict the traffic," Makoto suggested as she pulled out her phone to check the time.
Futaba never thought she would see Makoto wearing something so different, but the indigo suited her well enough. Her dress stopped just shy of her knees and tapered off into something flowy—a black belt tied around her waist. Secretly, Futaba was hoping she and Makoto would be the ones to dress down for the occasion, but not even the uptight girl disappointed the masses.
"I'll get us a ride," Haru said and began tapping away on her phone. "Ake-chan, make sure I have the right address."
Haru, who stood beside Akechi, held out her phone for him to look over. Her arms were decorated with silver bands around her bicep and wrist that seemed to melt away when coupled with her periwinkle dress. When she spoke to the man beside her, his nose wrinkled at the nickname.
"I implore you to avoid that name lest you want my ears to bleed profusely."
"It would admittedly be quite a thrill to see," Haru said once he confirmed the address.
"And you had the audacity to call me sadistic," Akechi muttered.
"Crow? Are you sadistic?" Sophia asked, tilting her head to the side.
Lastly, Futaba looked over at Sophia and was even more shocked to see her in completely different attire. She would have been almost unrecognizable if she did not know Sophia had returned to the real world as a human. Her formerly heart-shaped hair was tied into two braids that fell over her shoulders. She wore a white dress with black leggings, a strange sight to see an AI in such garments, but Futaba didn't hate it.
"Not as much as I was before," Akechi replied snarkily.
The Phantom Thieves rushed outside when Haru announced their ride was waiting outside, and all clambered into the cargo van, glad it was large enough to accommodate them all. Futaba immediately went for Ren's bag to make sure Morgana was in there, satisfied when she poked and prodded at the lump until it moved.
She took the bag and set it in her lap, deciding Morgana was going to stick with her for tonight, although she doubted he would have any objections. It was probably Ren, who didn't want to share his feline friend.
The ride to the restaurant was not a particularly long one, but it was quite breathtaking to see how vast this city was. When the car pulled up to their destination, she threw Ren a smug look as she commandeered his bag and slung it over her shoulder. In return, he gave her a scornful look of his own, but there was no genuine malice and he allowed her to hold Morgana.
"We're here," she whispered.
"What's it like?" Morgana whispered back and poked a nose out just enough so he could see through the zipper. "Wow! This reminds me of the ritzy casino in Niijima Sae's Palace."
"You're telling me," she answered and slung around slowly to give him the full view. "What do you think Ann's family is like?"
"If they are anything like Lady Ann, then I think they will be as well-mannered and proper as her."
Futaba admired his sole dedication to the model, finding it to be quite endearing. However, she was interrupted by the host, who gave them a slight smile in greeting. He spoke quickly in English, too quickly for her to pick up on individual words.
"We have reservations with Gavroche Marquette," Ann piped up.
Futaba was so entranced over the fact that her friend spoke surprisingly good English to the host and French to properly pronounce those names that she hardly registered where she and everyone else was going...blindly following her group of friends until they were taken to a table with two people already seated there. It took a moment or two, but Futaba saw the resemblance between Ann and her family—mainly by their bright, blonde hair. Their faces, however, were much sharper and longer, but their blue eyes were precisely the same.
"Bonne nuit, Ann! I am pleased you were able to introduce your friends to us!" the woman said and leaned forward to press her lips to both Ann's cheeks.
The others must have had similar expressions for the blonde model chuckled and turned to address them.
"It's common in France to do that," she said. "Although, I guess it's kind of normal in America, too?"
"Wait...are you American or French?" Ryuji passed, scratching his head.
"Both," the woman said and held out her hand. "Gavroche and I grew up in France, but we moved to America for our jobs."
"Modeling?" Makoto asked, then cleared her throat. "I saw you in magazines for Fashion Week in Paris."
"Your friend has a keen eye," the woman said and looked at the bob-haired girl with twinkling eyes. "You must be Makoto Niijima?"
Makoto looked surprised but nodded.
"Musichetta,"the woman said as she put a hand to her chest. "Marquette."
The group of Phantom Thieves went around the table and introduced themselves all while taking their respective seats. Futaba, who was dreading her turn, was able to find her voice just in time.
"Sakura Futaba—er—Futaba Sakura," she said and corrected herself, remembering first names came before surnames here.
It still felt awkward, but everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves so she figured she could try, too. However, the moment the food came out, Futaba emerged from her quiet shell and went straight for the platter of pasta that was put out in front of her. Sumire, who was sitting next to Futaba, giggled.
"You'll enjoy the carbonara."
Futaba loved food and though she loved Sojiro's curry the most, she was always the one to go back for second and third helpings, often beating Yusuke to it before he could get one for himself. It was one of the many things they fondly fought each other over.
Her experience with Italian food was limited, but now that she had a taste for authentic pasta, she fell in love with it; however, it was rich and she was already full by her second plate, only managing to get halfway through it before tapping out and leaning back in her chair.
She wished she paid a little more attention to what was being said during dinner, but once she got into eating, Futaba hardly ever paid attention to background noises (conversations included).
"Ren Amamiya," Musichetta said and set down her glass to look at him. "Now, you, I've heard a lot about."
Futaba watched Ren pick his head up in surprise before his gaze involuntarily went straight to Ann, who merely beamed at him.
"Good things, dear," Musichetta reassured with mirth, digging out her phone from the depths of her purse. She pulled up a series of photos to show the table. "I see you in her social media quite a bit."
Ren tugged at the knot of his tie, looking anxious and judging by the blush creeping onto his cheeks, he was embarrassed.
"And I saw you were in one of Ann's shoots at Latus," the older woman continued, swiping on her screen to pull up a picture Futaba had never seen before. It looked professionally done and both of her friends in that image looked nearly unrecognizable. "Are you into modeling?"
"No," Ren said and rubbed his nose self-consciously. "I was just helping out."
Ann playfully chided her family for being so nosy, but she otherwise seemed unabashed by the onslaught of invasive questions...far more at ease than the other, who stared hard at his plate of food. To Futaba's surprise, Ann reached out and placed what appeared to be a comforting hand on Ren's shoulder, who gave her a nod of his head and leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She shook her head at whatever he had said, which seemed to relax him.
Futaba stared at her friends as an uneasy realization set in...there might be a lot more to them that she knew. Even though they were only gone for a few months, it felt like she had missed out on an entire year with them. Now more than ever she wanted her Persona back...it was only a matter of how.