I have returned!

Thank you, The Lunar 9 Tailed Fox for the compliment! I hope I continue to provide :D

Chapter 9: Silent Is The Little Lamb

When it's his turn to enter Maruki's room, all he could think about is how much he'll be forced to speak.

Maruki is smiling as Ren bows his head, his hand absently sliding the door close, his eyes catching the red-haired girl – Yoshizawa – leaving. He's heard that Ann had already finished her counseling session – and being quite alright about it, too – but he still won't allow the man to take a glance into his own heart; because if he does, then Ren has absolutely no idea what he could accomplish. He might be able to make him talk about things he doesn't want to, make him cry until everything's dried up, make him scream until everything doesn't make sense—

"You don't have to be so tense, Amamiya-kun," Maruki's voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he realizes that he's fisting the pant legs hard enough for the seams to half-snap. He looks up, and Maruki is smiling, pushing a cup of hot tea and a tray of snacks his way. "I'm not here to ask you questions. I'm just here to listen to you."

"…Sir," He mutters, fingers twitching nervously. While he's not a faculty, Maruki still has a position above him, something that means one wrong step and he'll—

"Whatever you do or say in here won't be reported, you know," Maruki says, and when Ren looks up, all he could see is a soft, kind smile that reminds him of the other three's. His breath hitches, and Arsène is crooning, calming down his hammering heart. "Whatever you don't say also won't be reported."

"…Yes, sir."

"And you don't have to sir me, Amamiya-kun," The man says. He reaches to pat Ren's knee, but pulls back when Ren flinches away, his smile faltering ever so slightly. He pauses, coughs, then continues, his back against the sofa. "I'm not your superior. I'm here to help, so you can consider me a friend, of sort."

"Yes," He says stiffly, unwilling to let his guard down.

Maruki catches something else from the way he talks, because his smile disappears, and he looks at Ren up and down, calculating, searching. He wants to curl up into himself and vanish, but he couldn't do that, so he's stuck with being looked at as if he's been cut open and sprayed across the floor like a blood eagle display for all to see—

"You don't trust anyone, not just adults, do you?" Maruki asks suddenly, and Ren feels his heart skips two beats in anxiety and half-panic that rises to match the anger – at the man's probing, an anger that is not his own but Arsène's – that boils deep within his stomach. When he doesn't say anything, Maruki sighs, scratching his head slightly. "It's understandable. I don't know what you've been through, but I want to assure you that I'm here to help, not to hurt you."

Lies, lies, lies— "…If you say so."

He looks away, unwilling to face those eyes (judging, they're judging him and he's being torn asunder by everything) as they seem to see his very core. Then, the man murmurs. "I… have been informed about why you were transferred here. I just want to make sure – are you truly—"

"Yes," Ren bites out, his heart pushing away each and every truth he's held close to his soul into oblivion. He knows Maruki won't believe in the truth that has already been twisted into mere lies, the truth that Ren still hasn't told anyone, the truth that burns the scar on his shoulder and—

"…It's not true, is it?" The man says matter of fact-ly, all the lightness in his words, all the air-headedness, are gone. Ren tentatively looks up, and Maruki doesn't smile this time, instead frowning just minutely with his lips pressed together and his jaws set. "I see… it's not true, but you said it is to protect yourse—"

"It's the truth!" Ren snaps, fear and bile rising up and boiling on his tongue. "It's the truth, I swear! It—"

"Hey, calm down, it's okay," Maruki quickly cuts him off, making his mouth snap shut with such force that he couldn't help but wince. He thinks he hears Morgana meowing worriedly from beyond the door, but doesn't think too much on it as he curls his hands over his own knees, nails digging deep into his skin and drawing out blood. "I'm not going to tell anyone anything, okay? I'll stop asking. I promise."

"I'm not lying, I'm not lying, I'm not fucking lying—" Ren breathes out, teeth clattering incessantly. He tries to calm down his beating heart, tries to shut Arsène up with hands on his head, pulling and tugging at his hair until he could feel them coming off. But he has to stop, because the panic is right around the corner and he's going to—

"Amamiya-kun, breathe," Maruki says – commands – as he scoots in a little closer to Ren. When he replies by shaking his head (not because he doesn't want to, but he can't), the man pauses before murmuring quietly, carefully. "I know it's hard, but breathe with me, okay? Breathe in, count to four. Breathe out, count to four."

Ren bites his lip before he does as he's told, pushing the oxygen into his lungs and filling his veins with air and calmness that he needs. When he manages to slow down his ragged breathing again, he finds himself less than presentable – his clothes are all wrinkled up with spots of wetness (sweats and tears) on them. His hair is also a little messier than it already is, and his hands are burning from all the fresh scars that he has pulled and tugged during all of that.

"I'm sorry," He hears Maruki says, and the man seems genuine in his apology. He still isn't smiling, all the lightness and the act of a clueless psychiatrist gone, replaced by worry and curiosity in equal measure. "I won't ask or observe anything more. Rest assured that whatever happened, is happening, and will happen in this place will be known onto to the two of us."

Ren doesn't trust that – how could he? All people are the same, save for the Thieves who have already proven him wrong, but adults are different. Adults are people in position of power, stationed above him and ready to tear him apart at the tiniest sign of disobedience. But when the silence stays for longer than it should, he decides to say something, anything, to get the man off his back. "…Okay. I understand."

There is another pause where he could hear his own heartbeat clearly before the man sighs again, leaning back and pulling something out from his coat – a bottle of medication Ren's all too acquainted with, one he is disallowed from bringing with him ("Panic disorder? Major Depressive Disorder!? As if those are real, brat! Now shut up and go! This here belongs to the bottom of the sea!") – then setting it on the table. "You… should probably take that. To help with the heart rate."

Ren takes a long, unflinching look at it without making a move.

"You don't have to stay, if you don't want to," Maruki adds, nervously patting at his pant legs and pulling his shirt straight. "I'm sorry if I've said something inappropriate or harsh towards you. You should leave for today, and if you're still willing… my doors are always ope—"

Ren doesn't wait for the doctor to finish, bolting out of the room without so much as looking back.

(Morgana is silent the whole time, and doesn't yowl or protest like he usually would when Ren just holds him tight against his chest as he curls up in his so-called bed, shivering from the terror that looms just inside his shadow. Instead, the not-cat only hums, paws gently kneading away the knots of stress and fear and tongue lapping at his cheek, ridding him of the tears that spill incessantly without his consent.

Morgana also doesn't ask questions, only saying that, "I'm here with you, okay? I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to, I promise."

And oh, Ren wonders, what did he ever do to deserve a friend this warm and this kind?)

May 14th, 2016 [Sat]

"How's the counseling yesterday?"

Ann asks once she's done bashing Ryuji and Morgana, and for a second, Ren thinks she might've said that to the other boy and not him. But when he turns, she's looking at him, and he feels Morgana kneading his shoulder blade gently, as a way to say I'm here.

With a sigh and an unsteady heart, he shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Huh," She says, a little surprised. "I mean, I've had a good conversation with him yesterday. He really let me say whatever I want, and didn't judge me for anything. Try to open up, Ren. You might—"

"No," He immediately denies, turning his face away and staring blankly at the staircase, one where he sees a tall young man standing on its steps, his eyes on them – some form of curiosity, Ren thinks, and admiration, too. When Ann doesn't add anything, but gives him a short, inquisitive hum, Ren sighs again. "I'm glad it's good for you, but… no. I just can't talk about it."

"Not like I can blame you," She shrugs.

"Anyway," He says, changing the subject, eyes flickering towards the boy who seems to walk closer, with enough distance to not be seen as of yet. "You're being stalked."

"Huh!? Wha—"

"Don't turn," Ren commands, his voice leveled and cold, his hand firm on her wrist, the burn slight and near negligible. When she whips her head back to him, he jerks his head very slightly to the side, his foot nudging Ryuji's. The blonde takes the cue and purposefully tries not to look where Ren sees the suspicious stalker. "Seems like a student to me, but I don't know why he's stalking you."

"Let's catch him, then!" Ryuji grins, cracking his knuckles. Then, a little quieter. "Or punch him. Whichever you want is fine, I guess."

"Your call, Lady Ann," Morgana chips in, tail wagging slowly.

In the end, they decide to wait and see. Indeed, just as Ren's thought, the stranger does get off at their station, even when he's rarely seen a student with that particular attire during his commute before. So, with a nudge, he signals for Ann to walk forward, setting up an ambush just at the entrance of the subway.

As it turns out, the student is so entranced by Ann (ha, as if he'd believe something as outrageous as that ingenuine excuse) that he left his car and followed her on foot until he caught up to them.

But the next words make Ren rethinks his stance; "Won't you be the model for my next art piece!?"

"Well, that took a weird turn," Ren couldn't help but comment. Artists are elusive, to him – those who follow their passions, those who are spurred on by the beauty of the world, those who are eccentric and oftentimes hard to understand. But that sentence alone is enough to make Ren reconsiders his previous judge of character for the boy.

"Weird doesn't even begin to describe it, dude," Ryuji snorts. Then, "What model?"

"All that I've drawn till now has been lacking, but I feel a passion from you unlike anyone else!" He says, flaunting around his arms as if he's talking about gods and demons themselves, his eyes lightened up with fire of a man who dearly loves his craft. Ren couldn't help but snicker, and gain a few confused looks from his friends in return. "Will you cooperate with me? What do you say?"

"Hold your horses!" Ryuji steps in, and Ann seems appreciative, all her cognitive capabilities seemingly spent and fried under the sudden revelation and bizarre behavior of this artist in the making. "Who are you? We don't even know who you are yet!"

"Oh! I'm sorry, where are my manners," The boy says, leaning back slightly, his body weight on one leg. "I'm a second-year at Kosei High's fine arts division, Kitagawa Yusuke," And then, a little roughly, his focus unwavering, he pushes Ryuji aside and attempts to get close to Ann. Ren decides to step in, and feels Ann clenching onto the hem of his shirt. Undeterred, Kitagawa leans to the side to face her. "I'm Madarame-sensei's pupil, and I am being allowed residence at his place. I'm striving to become an artist."

"Uh… huh…" She mumbles, still hiding being Ren. He shifts to the side more to guard her from view almost completely. "This isn't invasive at all! And—wait, do you mean that Madarame? The one who was on Good Morning Japan the other day?"

"Which Madarame?" Ren asks, leaning his head slightly back. She seems to have forgotten her fear, which has now been ruled over by surprise.

And oh, he must've said something completely out of the norm, because the boy's mood seems to flare up in anger. But he has no control over Ren more than the next student, so Ren doesn't feel the need to flinch, Arsène's wingbeats stronger than ever before. "You do not know the master of fine arts? How abhorrent."

"Sorry," Ren shrugs easily. "I've never been introduced to one before."

Art is a waste of time for his father, after all.

At those words, the anger seems to melt away, and the boy looks at him with sympathy that he doesn't want. Ren resists the urge to look away as the boy bows his head slightly. "My apologies for jumping to conclusions just so. I see… so you've never been introduced to the world of beauty before."

And that surprises him – not many, if at all, would outright apologize immediately after they've been informed of their misunderstandings. It is a pleasant one, but still not enough for him to drop his guard. Who or what this Kitagawa is, he'll have to see.

He's not given too much time to indulge in his curiosity or to readjust his guarded nature when Ann pulls him back, looking at him and mouthing are you okay? under her breath. When he nods, she sighs in relief before explaining. "Madarame-san is introduced as a super-famous Japanese-style artist who's been recognized all over the world."

"Ah," Is all Ren manages to say.

But then Ren recognizes something; the name Madarame had come up in Mementos not too long ago. Is this perhaps the same one…?

Their conversation is cut short when the old man (Madarame, Ren would presume) calls the boy from the car. Ren notices the look of adoration – and a tiniest bit of apprehension – in those eyes as the boy give them the tickets to the exhibition before taking off.

(Ren still isn't too sure if they should go or not, but he's curious about those eyes, with contrasting emotions dancing in them. Arsène croons, as if to say that he should look into this further. And this time, Ren finds that he does not disagree with that assessment that is given to him by his other self, his very manifestation of anger and resentment, who he still clings on to with all of his might.

Somewhere in the world, a butterfly flaps its wings.)

May 15th, 2016 [Sun]

Kitagawa is more than elated when his eyes land on Ann, and then sours a little when he spots the two of them.

"You came," He says simply, more to Ann than anyone, and Ren only sighs – of course, giving three tickets to them is merely a ploy to get Ann to come, after all. "Well, just make sure you don't disturb any other visitors."

"Roger that," Ren says simply, waving his hand. "Don't worry, I'll be right around here—"

"Actually," Kitagawa cuts Ren off, a thoughtful look crossing his face. Ren exchanges a glance with Ryuji, who just shrugs unhelpfully, as the boy continues. "You said you've never been introduced to fine arts before, yes? While it would dampen my excitement from having your friend here somewhat, I'd be more than happy to walk you through it. You seem like someone with an eye for beauty, after all."

He gives his friends a raised brow – he still isn't quite sure what to make of Kitagawa's character. He's very easy to read at times, his heart worn at his sleeve and his intention clearly stated by his words and his acts alone. He himself doesn't see the harm, and when Ryuji just nods (after attempting to pat his back before pulling away) and Ann smiles at him, he bows his head slightly, pushing Morgana into Ryuji's waiting arms. "If you'll have me, of course. I'd be happy to."

"Then, this way."

"Don't worry about us, Ren," Morgana says when Ren hesitates to follow, poking his head out further as he wriggles uneasily in Ryuji's hold. "We'll be fine. It's a chance for you both to observe him, after all. We'll try to learn about Madarame on our end too."

"…If you're sure," He nods. "Give me a call if you two need anything."

"Will do," Ryuji grins. "Go on. Before the dude chews off your head."

Ren only snorts before he walks over to Kitagawa, who waits impatiently for him. When he does join the other two, Kitagawa primarily talks to Ann as he gestures over each and every picture, giving him an off-handed explanation in the meantime. He then starts educating them about the type of arts, and Ren makes sure to divide his attention between Kitagawa and the paintings, each and every one entirely different and unique from the other, as if they were drawn by different people.

He only observes the two of them as they talk, Kitagawa being especially proud about his teacher's craft, at least until Ann points at one painting in particular – one of the sunsets and the clouds.

The longer he looks at it, the more he feels uneasy, the way the strokes of the brush threatens to rip the piece asunder so much different from the paintings beside it that it's as if it was made by a different beast altogether, not by the gentle person Kitagawa described Madarame to be—

A master of the Japanese arts is plagiarizing his pupil's work. Only his public face is shown on TV. His treatment of the pupils who live with him is awful. He teaches nothing and bosses them around. He treats them inhumanely, as if disciplining a dog.

The words from the Phan-Site and Madarame's status as the apex of the art world collide into one another, and Ren's suspicion is only confirmed when Kitagawa seems to take a long pause, eyes downcast, when Ann points out what Ren's seen himself; "I sense this… strong frustration coming from it. To think such a cheerful and gentlemanly person could make such a piece…"

Ren opens his mouth to say something, but his rationality stops him; what if Kitagawa lashes out? Ren doesn't know what his relationship with Madarame is truly like, and if he's wrong, he might very well paint a big target on his back unwittingly. Instead, he watches Kitagawa just leads them away, trying to pull them out of the piece and to a set of another.

Trickster, Arsène croons softly, and Ren leans his head slightly to the side, placing half of his attention on the voice of his personification of anger as he says within the confine of his vacant heart. Don't just think. Feel. Your heart knows what is happening, does it not? You realize too, haven't you, that this boy might very well be facing the same fate you had previously been dealt with before?

He does, Ren begrudgingly agrees. He does know – Kitagawa might not be obviously abused, but the apprehension and the smidge of cold fury that's buried under his eyes are just something he cannot ignore. Something is going on, and Ren knows just how hard it is to stand against those who give you life, those who give you a place to be, feed you, warm you—

What do you want to do, my boy?

I want to save him, give him the wings to fly, Ren finally responds, hands curled into fists as he tags along while Kitagawa busies himself with explaining the arts and the paintings to them. Because no one deserve to be shackled and silenced by obedience like I have.

(He might not be able to free himself from his collar, but with this power, and with Arsène's wingbeats so strong and thunderous, he knows that he has enough in him to help another. He's set free the rebellious hearts of Ryuji and Ann before, and it would be a boon if he could save even one more.

Because, now that he has tasted freedom, even if such liberty is fleeting and in the form of the Thief's garb and the mask and the hellfire, it is sweet and worth everything that he has to offer.

So he sets his mind to find out the truth about Madarame, and hopes that he could save Kitagawa from the fate of an obedient cur, one that he was given, one that he is forever destined to fall under until the end of time.

Somewhere in the world, a butterfly flaps its wings.)

May 16th, 2016 [Mon]

After a train ride where Morgana is almost caught ("I'm surprised you were gentle with him when you pressed his head, Ren" "Don't listen to him, Ren! It's nice to know someone is decent enough not to button mash me to death" "You gotta admit it though, the idea is pretty excitin—" "No!"), they arrive at the shack that Ryuji had mentioned yesterday.

Arsène rumbles deep within him, anger bubbling up with intensity he couldn't ignore, and he just knows that this place is what they've been looking for; a Palace for a Ruler with a twisted, distorted heart.

"So… this is the place?" Ryuji says, rubbing the back of his head. "Not at all what I expected."

"If I have to guess," Ren says, drawing the attentions of the other three. He's seen this kind of fronts before, where people make so to be seen as if they don't have something, when indeed they do in places nobody knows about. "This shack is not his true home. He might have another – but then again, he will have to live here, at least from time to time, for his stories to be believable."

"…Dude," Ryuji begins, half awed and half concerned. "I don't know what I should say. You're so goddamn perceptive and knowledgeable it's freakin' scary and concernin', man."

"…Sorry."

"That's half compliment, so don't be sorry 'bout it," Ryuji grins easily, so Ren offers him one in return, hand rubbing over his eyes – and reminding himself of his lack of glasses – as the blonde gestures towards the shack. "Let's get to it, yeah?"

"Wait," Ren says, making the other two pause in their advances. Morgana shifts to nudge his shoulder with his nose, and Ren hums appreciatively before clearing his throat. "Before anything, Ryuji… don't outright ask Kitagawa if what we've read on the sites are true or not."

"Why not?" This time, it's Morgana who asks him, head tilted to the side. "If anyone can confirm it, it would be the one living under Madarame's roof, right?"

"That is true, but it's not so easy for someone who views Madarame as a parent to speak of the truth," Ren bites out, the feeling of fear and the inability to disobey returning from the memories of time not too long ago, from years and years of being trained and fed by the hands of the ones who've raised him. He shakes his head. "It's… not easy to rebel against the hands that feed you. He might even turn defensive very quickly."

When he looks up, all he sees are understanding and sympathy, Ann and Ryuji solemnly nodding at him without asking anymore questions, and he is grateful. When the two of them turn back, the air heavy with unbreathable silence, Morgana breaks it. "I see… then a more friendly, indirect approach is advised?"

"Mhm," He hums. "We'll have to wait and see. But I suppose talking and prodding a little wouldn't hurt. Just don't cross him too much, and we'll be fine."

"Roger that, Leader," Ryuji laughs, saluting his way with a wink. "I trust your call on this, man. Wanna get to it right away?"

"Wait a minute," Ren says, pausing, before turning towards Ann. "…Ann, you might not like what I have to say, but this is just my opinion, so don't—"

"It's fine, just say it," She cuts him off, hands on her hips, Carmen's flames flickering in her eyes like stardust. But the fire is warm and not scorching, keeping him calm enough for his heart to not gallop out of his chest. "I trust you, Ren. And I know you won't force me if I don't want to do it."

"…Thank you," He rubs the back of his head, looking towards the shack then back at her. "In case talking to them doesn't get us anything, the other way would be to break in. And if that is the case… then Kitagawa's proposal to you can be used to our advantage."

"You want me to pose for him," She says flatly, with enough anger to make him shrinks.

"…Yes."

The silence is physically painful, and he wishes he hadn't said anything to disrupt their budding friendship – one he might have inevitably destroyed by mere words spoken without thoughts – only for her to quell his fear with a thoughtful hum. "…If that's the case, would you help me if I'm in trouble?"

"Of course," Morgana says in his stead, and he nods to back up the not-cat's promise. "Since it's Ren who said it, I think we should be able to trust his judgement!"

"Thanks for the sideways sarcasm towards me, man," Ryuji growls, only to sigh and grin brightly at him, with eyes of trust he still doesn't know what he did right to deserve. "But what Morgana said is true. You always make the best calls when it comes to important stuff, so we'll leave it to ya."

He opens his mouth, as if to counter, as if to ask why such a trust is placed on him so absolutely. But the time for such an inquiry, as he has established before, has long since pass – so he shifts his tongue and smiles, nodding once and letting Arsène's flame of rebellion take reign of his heart, much like how he lets it burn in his veins within the Metaverse.

"…Then, leave it to me."

(It is the first time he says such a thing, the first time he sports such confidence, and it is in no small part due to their presences and Arsène's powers that allow a man without a heart to make a decision of his own just so. But, even if this decision isn't entirely from his very self, he is alright with it – after all, he is only the cultivator, the one who turns others' bonds into might that would break all the chains and set forth the cascade of rebellions, one that would free them of their own shackles. He might have to remain in silence and subdued subservient forevermore, but it is alright like this.

Because here and now, he has a place he truly belongs, he has a call he could answer, he has to power to see the ideals of his friends through. And he has the power to save someone else who might end up in the same place that he is, should things be left uninterrupted.

Arsène laughs, his wings beating in time with the hums of the void inside him.

Somewhere in the world, a butterfly flaps its wings.)

They didn't get anything out of the conversation, of course, roundabout as it is ("Ren, where the hell did you learn how to ask but also not really asking about stuff?" "You do realize that that sentence is contradicting itself, right, Ann?" "You still haven't answered my questions!"). But they did glean into the fact that Kitagawa might be hiding something – something he knows all too well is wrong.

(But of course, what else could Kitagawa have done? Had he crossed the master of his life, had he defied his teacher's words, he could very well end his own future with a single snap of his fingers. Ren understands this – and Ren resents Madarame for it, as well.

Against all odds, however, his resentment to his father is nonexistent, only fear remaining in his heart at the thought of the man who sees him as mere tools.)

What they did get, however, is that their hushed whispers when they come back out from the shack activated the MetaNav, and after a few wild guesses, they manage to find their way into the world beyond the edge of reality.

"Museum, huh…" Panther says, eyes taking in the sight of pure gold that blinds him the moment he looks up towards the top. "It's so extravagant… to the point that it's gaudy."

"Well, it's a world of his distorted desires, after all," Mona supplies. "Like Kamoshida's castle."

"But he's exhibited his arts within the real world already, right?" Panther asks, crossing her arms, a frown settling deep in her features. "Why would he fantasize about it here?"

"Let's try looking around," Ren offers, Arsène reigning his thoughts once more. The calls of his other selves, stronger and fiercer upon each cultivation of his power, are at a ready. He allows a grin to spread across his lips. "It's showtime, people."

And inside, all of his fears are all but confirmed.

The art style, unlike in the real world, looks much the same from one to the next. But what concerns him isn't the lack of variety he's already half-aware to be fraud; what concerns him is the fact that these are all people, names and ages etched into plates of gold, as if they're treasures or great finds to be displayed upon the walls of these halls, as if they were some sort of trophies to be shown.

Nakanohara Natsuhiko, the name of the Shadow they encountered talking about Madarame, is also one such face upon the walls and the golden plaques. Ren frowns, letting the others speculate as he keeps looking about, only to see a certain face he's been looking for— "Of course he'd be here, too."

"Huh? Whatchoo talking abou—" Skull begins, only to fall back as his eyes follow onto Ren's. "Huh!? Isn't this guy—"

"Kitagawa Yusuke," Panther repeats slowly. Then, horrified, she mutters, "Wait… what do you think—"

"All of these are his pupils, former and current," Ren confirms her fear, nodding and crossing his arms, his mind reeling. He has an inkling of what's happening before, but now it all becomes that much clearer, that much more certain. All they need is a simple confirmation – one that's not so easy to get – and while such a thing would be necessary for the other three, he doesn't feel like he needs to know more.

These people are Madarame's tools, used to the bones and discarded as soon as their usefulness is spent, their very own lives and souls becoming mere collections within his museum of instruments that he has used to gain fame, and perhaps money, if Ren has to take a wild, wild guess. And he snarls, anger of his nonexistent heart flaring like the sun itself – and that anger, he thinks, is enough to push the impending panic away, for now.

"…Joker," Mona suddenly says, and Ren looks down to see his deep blue eyes reflecting some kind of pain and worry that he still doesn't know what to do with. "…You… you've been through this before? You know what really is going on?"

At this, the other two whip back, eyes blown wide. Ren feels like he wants to run, but in here, Joker is far stronger than the weak-willed Amamiya Ren could ever be. Arsène then hums, soft and calm, and while his head wants to deny it, to keep it all under wrap, his heart – one that is stronger in the place where the power of the heart could take forms – refuses to lie to his friends any longer.

He cracks a small, unamused smile, shrugging noncommittally as the scar on his shoulder burns, just like how it was a few months ago. "Not exactly this. But I'm sure you're already partially aware of it."

When no reply comes, he only laughs.

"It's fine, guys. It's long since passed anyway," He says, waving them forward to continue on their search, for the routes that they need to change a twisted, incorrigible heart. "Wallowing about it now won't change a thing. I'll tell you what I think once we're outside."

He doesn't miss the look the three of them give him, but doesn't allow himself to think on it as he makes his way deeper inside the world of a man who reminds him too much of the master over his life.

(He doesn't have to say anything, in the end, when they encounter the so-called Infinite Spring, something that make the other three look to him with so much sadness that he doesn't know what to do or feel. They don't say anything more, don't ask him for details, so he says little in return, only offering them his tense silence as they agree to take the heart of the man who sees people as no more than mere slaves, mere tools, something with less worth than a dog—

—Something Ren's all too familiar with, something he will never be able to escape from, and now... something he will not allow another to suffer as. Never again.)

("So… what do you guys think?"

Morgana asks as soon as Ren walks away to buy their drinks (with the money Ryuji provides. The guy is just so desperately broke), his ears twitching nervously as he looks at Ann and Ryuji for some kind of input. And Ann gives one with a frown on her face, "Well… I think we already know something bad had happened to him. And possibly is happening, too."

"He knows too much stuff, like how people would react in shitty situations or stuff like that," Ryuji says, unusually perceptive, as he blows the air trapped between his teeth out. "The more I hear him say shit, the more I'm worried, you know? He doesn't like to be touched; I can get that. But wincing every time I just brush his arm? That's just so wrong, man!"

"Not to mention what happened in the Palace today," Morgana frowns, stretching his legs and letting Ann pat his head, meowing absently into her palm. "Just from seeing the pictures alone, he guessed – no, he deduced correctly what is going on. I would've just called him smart, if I haven't been hugged tightly with desperation every few nights or something."

"…He did that?" Ann says, horrified.

"Yes," Morgana sighs, scratching the back of his ear with his paw, his eyes looking over to see that Ren is still busy trying to get the drinks for them, his eyes thoughtful, even when Ryuji said it's fine for him to keep the changes. "Not that he asked me, of course. He would sometimes just curl up and whimper after bolting awake in the middle of the night, and when I walked over, he would just look at me, and I would snuggle close to him. Next thing I knew, I was already pressed to his chest."

Ann smiles, patting his head again and down his back, sending pleasant shivers into his system. He meows happily. "You're very kind, Morgana."

"I was gonna tease ya for it," Ryuji says with a cheeky grin, only to retract into himself, his smile gone within the next blink. "But… if he does that… I think we've gotta help him however we can, man."

"He's not an open person, that's for sure," Morgana states. "It'd take some works. It takes us a month to even get him to consider us friends even through life-and-death experience. I dread to think how much time we'll need to save him from himself."

"Are you going to do it?" Ann questions.

"Of course I will, Lady Ann," He says, eyes darting towards Ren as he walks back to them, their drinks in his arms. "He's an important friend of ours, after all."

(And from that day forth, without Ren's knowledge, they've formed themselves a separate group from the Phantom Thieves – Ren's Protection Squad, as Ann has jokingly put it. They want to help their friend, who has been through much, who has helped them before, and who he and Ann have unknowingly wronged through their ignorance.

Never again will they hurt him. He is a precious friend, and Morgana wants to make sure that Ren would know that they've got his back, too.)

"Yeah," Ann then hums with a smile. "He is a precious friend, indeed.")

May 17th, 2016 [Tues]

It all goes downhill very quickly.

Granted, it is somewhat within Ren's expectation – although he knows Kitagawa's circumstances to be a bit more delicate and complicated than his own – and it comes as no surprise that, when he allows Ryuji to speak exactly as he thinks against someone who's been under the roof of an abuser for so long, things would turn out as it did.

"What the hell's all that?" Ryuji grumbles as they exit the shack, hand ruffling the back of his head with vengeance. "Why would he protect a piece of shit like that? It makes no sense!"

"Stockholm Syndrome," Ren says, drawing all eyes on him. He lets the silence pass for a few seconds before he looks over his shoulder, spying Kitagawa glaring at them from the second floor's window. He decides to ignore him before elaborating. "It's a common psychological responses to an abusive relationship. It's not limited to just those kidnapped, but also in any kind of relationships, like in an abusive household."

"So you're saying… that he might do that as a survival strategy?" Ann asks, the looming prospect of her having to go nude to keep them from being reported (which, in and of its own, already makes Ren half-panics) briefly forgotten. She then frowns. "This is just messed up."

"It's not easy to get over it," Ren says solemnly, recalling the way Kitagawa snaps at him when he asks if all of this is alright with him. He then rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, teeth tugging at the edge of his lip to stifle down the panic that has snatched and clung to the tips of his toes. "Not only has he been there long enough for the loyalty and even a tiniest bit of dependency to develop, Madarame also—"

Has all the power that he needs to end Kitagawa's future with but a few words to the right ears, Ren refrains from saying, letting the words remain stuck between his teeth.

"—Yeah…" Ren sighs, trying his best to dispel the heavy quietness that has already settled in. He lets another moment come to pass before looking at Ann, murmuring quietly. "If you still want to help him… it would mean that you might have to…"

"Yeah, that's not a fun thought at all," Ann growls.

"But we can't just leave this be," Ryuji adds, shifting his weight to his good leg, cackles of lightning striking the inside of Ren's skull, informing him of Captain Kid's presence within the shadow. "Madarame's no different from Kamoshida. That asshole's usin' Kitagawa for his own gains."

"Not to mention that it'd be frustrating to leave this alone, even if Kitagawa-kun is fine with it himself," Ann murmurs, brushing away her bangs and letting a long, loud exhale escape her lips. Ren spots a look of unease and recognition within her eyes. "I just can't leave it like this."

"If that's what you guys have decided," Ren says, drawing their eyes up. He allows Arsène to take reign again, curling his lips into a snarl as hellfire courses through him. "Then we do our best to help."

"Yeah, before he ends up like us," Ryuji grunts.

Indeed, a part of Ren echoes softly, and the burn on his shoulder becomes almost too much to bear. He presses a finger to the scar as the voice of another part of him hisses. Before he becomes like you, a cur without a heart or a goal of your own.

"Yeah," Ren repeats, putting his hands deep into his pockets as he glances up towards the sky. "Before he ends up where I am."

They then briefly discuss what they should do next, and while Ren fully supports Ann whether she poses nude for Kitagawa or not, he still couldn't help but acknowledge that her being a model for Kitagawa would allow them more breathing room. But he's not willing to let Ann go into that hole of he could help it, because he knows just how much it can hurt, doing something one doesn't want to.

(It always hurts, doing what you're told without having a voice of your own. He's been disregarded and ordered like a dog his whole life, and while he knows he will never be able to go against those words, those orders on his own, he will not allow another to suffer as he had, not when he has the power to change it, not when he has a say in it.)

May 18th, 2016 [Wed]

As Mishima has promised, they all have the chance to meet Nakanohara to discuss what Ren's instinct has already known.

The rumors, vile and often untrue as they may be, usually stem from a sliver of truth that festers for far too long within the circulation of mouth-to-mouth storytelling. And Arsène has never been this fierce and this sympathetic before, as if he knows before Ren even does that Madarame is just like his father, using the one who considers him a parent to reap the benefits from their flesh and blood.

He then tells them of what had happened, how Madarame claimed his students' handiwork as his own, how he destroyed one's life as an artist so thoroughly within the world that might be the only one that they know (Ren sympathizes with Nakanohara, he really does, even if his Shadow is nasty and twisted with heart that is black as night), and all of the things that he said only make Ren angrier – something that is still quite new, but no longer foreign to him.

He could never get angry at his father and mother, for disciplining him like they did, for making him fear for the power above his own in his every waking moment, for making him the cur that he is. But this is different – now he has the power to alter another's fate, to change them and turn them for the better, to give them the wings to fly like he had seen Ryuji and Ann gained theirs before. And here and now, he will allow himself to make a decision of his own free will.

And when Nakanohara said that Kitagawa had once told him "If I could leave, I would," it all but cements his resolution to see this through to the very end.

(No one should suffer the fate of a dog like he is. No one else should be bound to another's will like he is, and with Arsène's midnight wings here within the cavity of his chest, bringing forth courage from the world beyond, he is certain that he will not fail.)

When they finally get back to the Palace proper, he is summoned to the Velvet Room once again.

He has only half the mind to listen to Igor as he feels the masks within him shifting and changing, for once Arsène retreating back into the recess of his soul. But he's jolted out of his thoughts when Caroline hits the bars with her baton, making the sound rings across his ears and silencing his Personas for a fraction of second that feels far too long for his liking.

"Are you listening to me?" She snaps, her arms crossed. When he nods to say (lie) that he's been paying at least half his attention to her, the girl snorts before nodding for him to sit on the floor. "I was saying that you should show us Jack Frost with the Mabufu skill—"

"—One that you already possess, it seems," Justine says, and he notices a small smile gracing her lips as she hums in approval. "And in order to promote that process, we would like to offer you the use of a new facility."

Caroline glances towards her twin, a small hmph escaping her as she comments. "It's rare to see you smile, Justine."

"You are the smiling one, Caroline," The colder twin shoots back immediately, and all Ren could do is watch from where he's seated as they bicker. "Did something happen to make you so joyful?"

"Me!?"

Ren looks at them with only half a mind – he does not care for them in the least. They've already made it clear that he is their prisoner, and they, his wardens. And when they inevitably notice his disinterest, they exchange a look before Justine states. "…I see that you do not care for our conversation. Very well, then I shall get to the point; if you make a satisfactory progress, we will allow you more freedom within this prison of your own making. It is a deal between us and you."

Ren snorts, but stays still for a moment, eyes looking at his shackles – dusted and cracked, as old as time itself. In the end, he nods, "Not like I can refuse you anyway. You're my wardens, after all."

(A voice then calls to him from within the darkness, of the Strength Arcana, one that stems from his deal with these otherworldly beings that see him as nothing more than trash ready to be taken out at a moment's notice. He doesn't care much for them, and neither do they for him, but whatever he could do to make himself strong enough to protect these fragile bonds that he's made for himself with those who he could fully call friends, he will do it.

Not matter how much pain he has to endure, no matter how much suffering he has to go through. No matter the cost, he will protect their lives, without fail.

Somewhere in the world, a butterfly flaps its wings.)

"That is right! You are quite intelligent, to know of your place, of what you can and cannot do!" Caroline sneers, hitting the bar once more before saying sharply. "And this will be your next task!"

Ren only listens as she tells him of what he has to do next, her voice and words no different from his father's own, one that has been haunting him for most of his life, and will continue to be for the rest of his days.