Chapter 11
He doesn't even make it three steps away from the restaurant when it happens.
Morgana is quick to hop into his arms, offering his coat of black fur and his warmth for Ren to hold, and while touching is still something he would rather not feel, Ann's hand on his arm as she guides him to somewhere quite, somewhere calm, is much appreciated. He decides to focus his dwindling attention on Morgana's nose nudging at his hand as he's led somewhere he doesn't have the mental capacity to care about, a confused noise registering into his sense from behind him.
He's pushed to sit down on a chair – and he briefly looks up to see he's been taken to a nearby park, where there are people about but without many eyes upon them – with Ann taking a seat next to him. After a moment of heavy silence, he hears Yusuke asks, somewhat reluctantly. "…Should I even be here?"
"Yeah," Ryuji says, and Ren catches the boy's legs in his field of vision. He makes himself exhale, closing his eyes and feeling Arsène's embers upon his shoulders. When the Prince of Thieves hums quietly into the void of his heart, Ren feels somewhat a little calmer. "I mean… this is only the second time, but dude just needs someone with him till he's better, is all."
"I see," Yusuke affirms quietly.
"Ren," Morgana murmurs after a few moments of stretched silence, where his heart still hammers away between his ribcage, and Ren releases his hold a little, only to see the not-cat's tiny paw kneading into the back of his hand and drawing small circles on his skin. When he gives out a short hum, Morgana purrs, lapping his finger carefully. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"
He shakes his head, his voice trapped between his teeth. Arsène's presence is small and barely noticeable here, but it is enough to keep his mind working – just as long as it needs to – as he's surrounded by people, friends that insist on keeping him company through all of this. He thinks he misses the first few words coming from Ann, so he looks up, and she smiles, "Don't worry about it, Ren. Take your time. We don't have plans after this anyway, right, Ryuji?"
"Nah, we don't," Ryuji grins, hands on his hips. Ren allows himself to relax, his shoulders painful and tense from being squared for far too long for his comfort. A part of him notes the absence of wild thoughts this time, and he thinks it is mostly credited to him now acknowledging them as friends and not mere acquaintances. Arsène hums in agreement as Ryuji continues. "Hey, after this, let's go grab some chow. You haven't eaten lunch yet, yeah?"
"Ryuji, this isn't the time to ask him that, you know?" Morgana chides lightly, his form curling in Ren's arms a little tighter. The not-cat then looks up at him, whiskers twitching over Ren's skin, before his eyes return to Ryuji (he thinks) again. "You suck at reading the atmosphere."
"Yeah, sorry," the boy huffs, although without as much bite as he usually would use. Then, a little quieter. "Anyway, just heads up, Yusuke… don't ask 'im anythin' yet, yeah? Dude's not ready to talk."
"I understand," Yusuke states solemnly.
It takes Ren moments – long enough for the sun to start setting – before his quickened breathing slows down and his heart rate levels enough that he could think clearly again. He feels Arsène retreats into the darkest recess of his mind, and exhales shakily before he looks up at the others. Then, a bit reluctantly, he mumbles, "…Sorry about that."
"Don't worry about it," Ryuji says as he shakes his head with a grin. His smile then fades as he sits down across from him, hand rubbing nervously behind his neck. "Anyways, what d'ya wanna do? Grab a bite? Back to bed?"
"…Probably back to bed," Ren says, not willing enough to continue staying with them, lest he makes a fool of himself by having this kind of uncontrolled panic episodes again. He sighs, and realizes that he's still holding Morgana— "Oh… Sorry, Morgana, I'm—"
"Don't apologize. I'm happy to help," the not-cat says, muzzle stretching into a feline smile, soft and warm and kind. He then shifts, and after patting at Ren's arm, climbs out and down to his lap. Before Ren could say anything else, Morgana whispers, ears twitching again as words start to roll out from his tongue. "I know you might not want to do this, but… if you think you want to, you can tell us what happened. Or tell us If we can do anything to help you at all."
He bites his lip, a little unsure of what to actually say or do. He looks up, and there's a spark of realization dancing in Yusuke's eyes as the boy observes him. Ren weighs his option, reluctant. But when Arsène coos into his ears softly, he sighs, rubbing between the bridge of his nose as he murmurs. "I'm… I'm not sure if I can talk about it now. But someday, maybe."
"It's okay, Ren," Ann shrugs, patting at his knee and sending burns up his leg. When he flinches, she pulls back with a small sorry before she hums, her voice low and warm. "We'll be there for you."
He takes a moment, and while he's still not too certain about it, he finds himself smiling – slight and half strained, at best, but it's still a smile – before he nods. "…Thank you, all of you."
"You're welcome," she says simply. Then, "You wanna head back home?"
"Yeah," he says, even though the word home doesn't sit quite well on his tongue.
[Amamiya Ren]: How are you doing, Yusuke?
Ren decides to send the boy a message after he's done with helping Sakura for the day, the scent of curry and coffee sitting heavily between the strands of his hair. He lets Morgana climb up into his lap as he sits down on the bed, his eyes alternating between the list of items Sakura wants him to buy on Saturday and the screen of his phone.
It is slightly unexpected, even though he sends the message himself, but Yusuke eventually returns his text after a few minutes.
[Kitagawa Yusuke]: I would be lying if I say I'm quite alright. But so far, I think I will manage.
[Kitagawa Yusuke]: What about you? You… didn't seem so well after we left.
Ren frowns slightly, still a bit torn as to what he should actually say. Morgana looks up when he stills for a while, and only offers him his tail – one that Ren rubs at with utmost care – as he speaks. "I don't know for sure, but talking about it to someone else might be good, you know? That's why therapists exist. Even if… your experience with one isn't exactly promising."
Ren snorts, recalling the waves of panic and despair that rushed through him when he spoke with Maruki but a few days ago. He feels a frown come to his face, and tries his best to suppress it before sighing quietly into the stale air between them. "I wouldn't know. I… have never talked about this to anyone before. Do you think it will actually help?"
While trust still doesn't come easy, these people are probably the very first that he has managed to put his faith in – and has it returned in full, no less – so he thinks their thoughts on the matter should at least be considered. They have been proven to bear no ill will towards him, after all… so a little faith should be par for the course, shouldn't it?
Morgana seems to be thinking the same thing he currently is, because his muzzle twitches again, and he smiles, baring his fangs just slightly. He seems to realize that his emotion is shown through his face, because he quickly backtracks, licking at his paw as a way to hide his face. "I mean… it should, eventually. Thing is, from what I know, therapy takes time. Lots of time and efforts from both parties. You need to at least open up to your therapist for it to work, but once you start, it should help."
He bites his lip, a part of him still unwilling to consider seeing Maruki again an option. But he also knows that the benefit would eventually far outweigh the risks, if Morgana is right. Still, how could he trust the man? How could he trust anyone except those within their little group of misfits? "…I don't know if I can do it or not, but… after a bit… I'll try… I guess."
"Sure," Morgana purrs, turning and lying on his back, letting Ren put his hand on his chest and ruffling at his pure-white fur on his abdomen. "When do you think we'll finish with the route?"
"…I plan to get all of us together tomorrow, then to Iwai-san's shop," Ren says as he types Yusuke a long-since-overdue response. "We need to pick the guns first, and while I've mindlessly gotten Ann and Ryuji theirs, I've never really considered their fighting styles. And since we have larger Thieves' funds, I should be able to pick out weapons that suit their needs the most."
[Amamiya Ren]: I'm alright now. It happened sometimes.
[Amamiya Ren]: Just ignore it. It won't happen in the Metaverse, that I can promise you.
"…Aren't you supposed to use those funds to buy yourself food?" Morgana asks as he curls his tail around Ren's wrist, stopping him. Ren looks down and cocks his eyebrow as the not-cat growls at him. "Ren, we've already agreed that a part of the fund would be for your nutrition, too! You can't keep eating only two curries a day and doing Phantom Thieves' work, you know!"
"I know," he hums, feeling as if further attempt at dissuading Morgana will put him in a bad spot. In the end, he decides for a compromise that will allow him to touch the least amount of their collective money possible. "…Alright, I'll use it to buy food for myself, too. But only cheap ones, because this is our money, and not mine alone.
Morgana doesn't seem quite satisfied, but takes the answer anyway. "…Okay. That's better than nothing."
Ren hums slightly as he touches at his face – and, yet again, reminding himself of the absence of his glasses – before Yusuke's messages pop up on his screen.
[Kitagawa Yusuke]: I am still concerned about your wellbeing. It does not matter where you have a panic attack, it still is one. Should you need an ear, or even a hand, I am more than willing to provide.
[Kitagawa Yusuke]: And thank you, for talking some senses into me. I would not have considered facing the truth so readily, had you not told me that you are the same.
He sighs, fully aware of what he had said to Yusuke just moments before all the fiasco within the Palace began. But in the end, he allows himself a measure of peace and a sense of accomplishment, since he has managed to save Yusuke from Madarame (for now, at least) and from himself.
[Amamiya Ren]: The credit is more yours than mine, Yusuke. Don't mention it.
[Amamiya Ren]: And thank you for the offer. I appreciate it.
"Anyways, what about their guns?" Morgana says, as a clear attempt to change the subject at hand. Ren doesn't really mind it, "I mean, they seem to be content with what you've given them so far. Especially Ryuji and his shotgun."
"That's a lucky pick," Ren responds, recalling him just grabbing said weapon without so much as a thought in his head. Shotgun just seems to fit Ryuji so well, but he hadn't considered the type of shotgun, or even Ann's own weapons yet. "But I've given him pump-action shotgun. I think he'd be more comfortable with something like semi-auto or, god forbid, full auto—"
"You know an awful lot about guns, Ren," Morgana says quietly, drawing a sense of panic into Ren's veins and setting it on fire. However, his fear is muffled when Morgana continues with his feline grin. "But, as expected of the Leader. What about Lady Ann's and Yusuke's?"
"Wait for tomorrow," Ren says, pushing his finger against Morgana's nose and making the not-cat pulls away with an angry yowl. He turns his gaze to the phone before opening their newly-formed group chat and starts typing as he responds to Morgana; "I'll explain in details later."
"Okay. Suit yourself."
[Definitely Not The Phantom Thieves' Group Chat]
[Amamiya Ren]: Are you all free tomorrow after school? I want to make sure you have the guns that you are most comfortable with.
[Sakamoto Ryuji]: I'm free, but why, though? I mean, I'm cool with my shotgun. It's awesome!
[Takamaki Ann]: I'm alright with mine too. I'm still not used to the recoils though.
[Kitagawa Yusuke]: What about mine? I recall something like an assault rifle appearing on my person in the Metaverse. Is that not enough?
[Amamiya Ren]: It's not that. The weapons that appeared when you first got your Personas are quite alright, but there exist different types for each category of firearms. I want to make sure you are most comfortable with what you have. I'm planning to take you all to Untouchable Airsoft to take a look at them tomorrow.
[Takamaki Ann]: If you're sure, yeah! I'm down!
[Sakamoto Ryuji]: Yeah, count me in, too!
[Kitagawa Yusuke]: I do not see the harm. Then, where do we meet?
[Takamaki Ann]: At our new hideout at Shibuya Crossings, then!
[Amamiya Ren]: Alright. See you guys tomorrow.
May 20th, 2016 [Fri]
"You do know an awful lot about this kind of thing, aren't you?"
Morgana says, perched on his shoulder, as they gather at the nearby park after a visit to Untouchable Airsoft, all with their new guns on their person. Ren only hums noncommittally, his thumb scrolling across his phone as he tries to take his mind off things. When Morgana doesn't back down, paws kneading into his shoulder incessantly, he sighs, "Yeah, I do. My… parents are… enthusiasts."
More like they have everything to do with guns and weapons in general, but no one needs to know that; besides, their extensive knowledge regarding other things left much to be desired – some things, even a hitman or an assassin does not need to know.
(Of course, they themselves aren't one. They just… involve themselves in the world where laws could not reach, that is all. Ren has always been aware since a young age that what they do for a living (what they have always been doing) are always borderline on being illegal, but they never did cross that border (at least, not blatantly), never did directly involve in the businesses that they encourage through their connections and their wealth.)
"I see," the not-cat hums quietly as he looks over to Ryuji and Ann animatedly talking about their new firearms (while concealing the things under their respective bags), while Yusuke is seemingly lost in his own thoughts. "Although…"
"Hmm?"
"Nothing," Morgana cuts himself off as he climbs out of Ren's bag and onto his lap instead, something he has been doing more and more often despite Ren's lack of… panic attacks. He had tried to question it once or twice, only to find himself at an all-denying wall, so he stopped inquiring about it a while ago now. He then looks up when a shadow is casted over him, and sees Yusuke standing right in front of him. Morgana is the first to perk up, however, "Hey, Yusuke. You want to talk to Ren?"
"If it does not bother you, yes," Yusuke nods slightly, his eyes alternating between Ren and Morgana. He isn't too sure what Yusuke wants to discuss with him, but doesn't rightly object to the idea – after all, they might be different, but at the core the both of them are the same. "May I have a moment of your time?"
"Sure," he hums, pulling his fingers off of Morgana's warm fur. The not-cat stretches his limbs before hopping off of him, and to where Ryuji and Ann are, huddling together on a nearby stone bench. Ren's eyes linger there for a moment before he scoots over, patting the spot beside him. "You can sit. As long as you don't touch me, that is."
Arsène's croon is slightly nerve-racking, the sound grating upon his ears like metal upon metal, but Ren decides to push Arsène's mantle out of his mind, focusing himself on Jack Frost's more chilly disposition and his more carefree personality instead. He is then snapped out of himself when Yusuke's eyes seem to bore deep into him, past whatever his front might be and reaching deeper than that—
"Ren," he says quietly as he pulls back, giving Ren a modicum of space in between. There is a moment's worth of pause before Yusuke continues, "I… know that I have said this before, but I feel like you have done more for me than maybe you should. So thank you, again, for giving me the courage that I need."
"The credit is all yours," Ren says, looking away and at his own hands, fingers tracing upon the scars that adorn his palms, etched deep into his flesh by his own doing. He gives himself a sigh as he tilts his head slightly to the side, eyes still anywhere but at the artist. "I'm not as good as you're making me out to be, Yusuke. I did it all for myself."
"Even so, no bad person would do what you have done while risking your own mental health," Yusuke says quietly, and Ren turns to se his eyes looking away from him. "If there is anything I can do for you at all, let me know. I owe you a great debt, and I don't intend to let that go unanswered."
Ren grimaces, still slightly baffled at Yusuke's willingness to help him – much like how Ryuji always has been, since the very beginning. But even so, he finds no reason to refuse, no ground in which he could deny the offer, so he nods. "Alright. It's a deal – same goes for you, Yusuke. Whatever it is that I can do, let me know – you and I are the same, after all."
"Very well. Then it is a deal," Yusuke smiles, offering him a hand.
Ren is reluctant, but Arsène's hum is soft and low and calm, so he takes it, and feels the frigid cold digging deep into his skin instead of fire that usually burns him.
(The voice of the girl calls for the Emperor, another Confidant for him to use to groom his own power to newer heights. Unlike anyone previously, he feels like his understanding of Yusuke's – of the Emperor's – Confidant is much more than he has with anyone. Someone who has his entire life dictated by another person's will, someone whose father sees him as no more than mere tool—
—The difference is that, unlike Ren, he is far, far stronger than what Ren could ever hope to be. So if he could foster these so-called bonds, and gives Yusuke even greater power in which he could use to grant himself his own freedom, then he will do it, without fail. Much like what he had promised himself to do for the other three.
Somewhere in the world, a butterfly flaps its wings.)
"Here."
The first thing Sakura does is to put something on top of the counter and gesture for Ren to take it. He bows his head and takes a stack of papers from atop the wooden board, only to have his words ripped out of him before he could stop himself. "They… accepted me as their part-timers?"
"Yeah," Sakura shrugs easily as he puts a plate of curry and a cup of coffee on the table – the luxury Ren will never be able to get used to – before he flips the channel on the TV to a new one. Ren only manages to collect his thoughts when Sakura coughs into his own hand to draw his attention. "So, if you need to take a day off to work for those jobs, just tell me. I'll be more than willing to let you."
"But, sir—" Ren begins, alternating his eyes between the papers in his hands and Sakura's face. The older man has somehow been avoiding eye contact, and Ren finds it slightly odd, but doesn't question much of it as he continues in a low voice. "I owe you a lot, sir. I don't think—"
"You can just help with the inventories and the cataloging like you used to when you're done with those jobs," Sakura shrugs. "That's what I've originally paid for you to do, anyway. The curry-making and the coffee-brewing are just extra duties. I won't mind it at all, you know."
"But—"
"Amamiya," Sakura says, his eyes strangely soft, his voice warm. Ren stops himself, the change in the man's demeanor glaring and throwing him off his feet. Before he could even fully comprehend the reason as to why, the man smiles. "You're a high schooler. They can pay you more than I could, and they'll give you some nice change of paces, too. Just work in those places whenever you feel the want – as long as you help me with the inventory once in a while, then I don't mind."
It is a much too kind a proposition, something Ren couldn't rightfully wrap his head around. He frowns, his mind trying to find out what the man truly wants out of him—
Not all hearts are twisted, not all minds wishing to take advantages of you, dear boy, Arsène croons, making Ren stops, his hands suddenly cold and numb, fingers twitching with unease. He just bites his lip as the Thief's voice reaches into the part of his heart that he isn't willing to look into, coercing out of him emotion he doesn't want to feel (he doesn't want to be betrayed again), drawing out all his fears and his insecurities and bear them for the world to see. Do not think with a mind twisted by the darkness of the world. See with your heart, one that is free—
He clenches his jaw, his head still unwilling to fully see that an adult – someone who could easily ends whatever scrap of future and freedom he has left – would have no ulterior motives, no ill will against him. In the end, when the croons become too much, he inwardly sighs before forcing himself to smile slightly. "…Yes, sir. Thank you for your kindness."
"Anyway, how are you getting along with your friends? Any good?" Sakura asks as he gestures towards the counter, where the plate of steaming hot curry lies.
Ren isn't quite sure what angle Sakura is coming at him from, but Arsène's voice echoing inside his skull is becoming too much, and he wants nothing more than to just ignore him. In the end, however, Ren also knows that Arsène is him, much like how he is Arsène – at least, to a certain degree – and that would mean that he couldn't ignore the Prince's calls forever.
He decides to just bite the bullet and nods, "Yes, sir. They're all very kind, and—"
Do not think with your mind, but feel with your heart, one that is free. What is it saying? What do you want?
"—and I think we're getting along quiet well, sir," he ends up saying as his eyes fall to the plate before him, his fingers twitching but not moving much.
"That's good to hear," the man hums, seemingly satisfied, before he points towards the curry sitting before Ren. "Now eat up. Today will probably be another slow one, so I'll teach you something new again. Seeing that you just absorb everything like a sponge, I think a few more recipes today wouldn't hurt, would it?"
"It wouldn't, sir," Ren mumbles quietly, scratching the back of his neck before putting his hands together to pray to the gods that will never answer to his call. "Ittadakimasu."
He doesn't miss the way Sakura seems to look at him, fond to a degree (and the way the pale string that marks the Hierophant seems to grow stronger), but he isn't willing to making any sort of new impression out of it. In the end, he just lets Arsène's voice rolls all over and past him as he eats his meal in silence.
May 21st, 2016 [Sat]
"So, what should we call him?"
Skull asks, pointing his thumb at the now officially new member of the Phantom Thieves. Ren just watches Yusuke putting a finger to his chin, his kitsune mask giving off the aura of cold that matches his bearings quite well, like the chill wind of winter upon a lonely peak. "Hm… I'd say Da Vinci."
"A mouthful," Ren says without thoughts, and upon Arsène's almost delighted laughter, clamps his mouth shut and sighs. Yet again, his personality as Joker is getting the best of him in the world that his actions bear no real consequences to his life (not the indirect kind, anyhow), and Ren has to use every fiber in his being to curb that rebellious side of him away. "…Sorry. But, yes, it would be hard to call you so in the heat of battle, you know."
"…I see," Yusuke simply says, strangely receptive of Ren's opinion, even when he has proven just how immovable he is in his ideals when they first confront one another. "What are you all called, perchance? I may draw inspirations out of your names yet."
"Joker," he says, before pointing along each and every one of them. "Mona. Skull. Panther."
"I'd say Kitsune! You know, that mask and all!" Panther says cheerfully, shifting her stance to one leg and resting her hands on her hips. "Not to mention that your weapon is very Japanese-esque!"
Kitsune is admittedly a good name, Ren muses, allowing the others' speculations to go in one ear and right out the other. But then again, while the name is good at first glance, Ren feels like calling Yusuke a Kitsune in the midst of clashing steels and burning flesh would not be ideal. But, since Kitsune means a mythical fox in common Japanese mythologies—
"Fox," Ren says suddenly, bringing silence down to them without actually meaning to. He looks up to the others' curious gazes, and repeats himself. "Fox. Kitsune in English. One word, easy to use, too."
"Fox, hm?" Yusuke hums, a smile crossing his lips. He then nods, "Very well. That name works quite well. From here on out, my codename will be Fox."
"I've gotta give you kudos on always comin' up with cool names, man," Skull snickers, putting his hand up in an attempt to pat his back – and pulling the hand back himself when realization crosses his mind, thank god – before stretching his limbs and rolling his shoulders. "Awrite. So, let's do this!"
"The end of the exhibition might be two weeks away, but I'd rather us be done with this as soon as possible," Ren says as his hand runs up to his mask, feeling Jack Frost and Koppa Tengu at his command. He shifts them both to the forefront of his mind, with Arsène's name always ready to roll out of his tongue. "Do you have any objections?"
"None, Joker," Fox says, nodding his approval, Goemon's winter breeze grazing through his fingertips and drawing his eyes into Yusuke's warm ones. "Let us be done with this abominable man as soon as we can."
He allows a grin to form as he nods, Arsène's midnight wings beating like a war drum in his skull.
"It's showtime!"
Repulsive.
The more he sees things inside the Palace – paintings of abhorrent compositions and detestable thoughts, statues of grandeur ego made manifest, the lack of simple empathy for lives that Madarame rules over – the more anger he feels dancing at the edge of his nerves like hellfire that smothers everything in its path. Arsène's laughter grows more maddening with each passing moment he spends inside the Palace and the painting worlds, but still within his power to control, so Ren decides not to say anything – not that he usually would, anyway – as they travel further and deeper into the Palace.
So, when he catches any unfortunate Shadow, he lets himself (lets Arsène) wield his anger like a weapon of destruction and smites them to smithereens without so much as a chance for the others to help out. He doesn't turn to see what kind of look they're giving him, but they're saying nothing, so he keeps things this way – with his mouth tightly shut, except for when destroying a Shadow does his face sport something that, when looked upon a reflecting surface, seems like a maniacal grin that rivals even Arsène's own.
After a long trek, they find a path forward into the deepest depths of the Palace, this time closely guarded by a Shadow, who seems to be highly aware of its surrounding. Ren clicks his tongue, Jack Frost's ice and Saki Mitama's cool breeze of Dia pushed away by the flame that burns under his skin without any sign of stopping. But Ren gladly takes it, scoops it into his hands and shapes it into the form of his heart, one that is empty, one that is willing to go as far as to doom himself for these people he has come to know—
Everything goes by in a blur of light and fire and ice, and when he actually gets a hold of himself again, actually sees through his eyes and not his mask, he could see that, yet again, his powers (and this time, his friends', too) have already brought about absolute annihilation upon the guard in his path.
He sighs, pushing his hand through his hair as he breathes, calming down his heart and pulling at his mind until he could form words through his mouth again. Then, he mutters, "…Well, that works out. Let's go, people. We haven't got all day."
"Joker—" Fox begins, only to stop himself and pull back a hand he's reaching out. He frowns, the hushed whispers from Panther causing him to shift his tongue. "…Apologies. But, are you alright? Are your stamina well after that?"
He quirks his eyebrow; why wouldn't he be? He hasn't gotten hit—
He winces when a pang of pain courses through his left side, something he's known all too well. He holds up a hand before touching where the pain comes from, only to feel the cackles of his ribs under his fingertips. He isn't all too aware of that, probably because of the adrenaline. But the pain never bothers him (lies, they do, they hurt all the time, and he always wants to—), so he shrugs and says as easily as he breathes; "It's fine, just some bruises. Nothing major."
"I should still heal it, though," Mona says, wide eyes looking up at him. "Please? You've been putting in more effort than all of us combined. So at least let me do this."
Ren opens his mouth to retort, but his connection with Jack Frost – one that is fostered and tempered by his bond with Mona – stops him. In the end, he allows the mischievous spirit to sway his nonexistent heart, and nods with a small sigh. "…Alright. Save up some of your psyche for any fights to come, though. I'd say we should be able to finish within today—"
"—No way in hell, Ren," Panther hisses, forgoing his codename entirely as Carmen's flame rises from under her feet, one that she quickly puts away as she frowns. "You need to rest. You've been on edge ever since we enter the Palace, and you've done nothing but throwing yourself head-first into the fights!"
"Because that's what I do best—"
"That's not the point!" Panther snaps, fierce eyes that would make Ren flinch appearing in place of her usually kind and cheerful look. But here, he is Joker – those eyes mean nothing to him. "The thing is, we are here with you, too! Learn to count on us!"
"As I've said, I'm fine," Ren reasons, something akin to fear bubbling up his throat in waves. He quickly stifles it down, however, as he grimaces, Arsène's croon of insanity ricocheting inside his chest, its hooves of disaster slapping onto his spine like thunder. "I did it because I can. And you all have been helping me so far, with—"
"Healing and supporting and nothing more!" She half-shrieks, heel striking a deep wedge into the woods and hand flinging the nearest object – a painting stand– high into the air. He sees the other three flinch away, but he doesn't. "Ren, you have been in the front line and taking every hit and every spell onto yourself for nearly the entirety of this infiltration and you're telling us nothing!"
"That's not true, I—"
"Nothing!" Her voice breaks in the end, and she quiets down, chest heaving with effort. Ren only stares, dumbfounded, as she recovers and pushes her mask up briefly to wipe sweat off of her forehead and something off of her eyes (tears, a small voice in him notes. She's wiping away tears) before she mutters out almost inaudibly against the heated air of frustration. "You've always been like this, and I mean, I respect that. I really do. You just can't talk to people about something."
"Panther…" Skull murmurs, only to back down when he sees something Ren could not.
"But this is too self-destructive, you know?" She continues, looking away from him, and Ren feels tension leaving his body, replaced by a concoction of something close to sadness and guilt eating away at his insides. "We're friends. Even if you can't talk to us about it all, you should at least tell us something. You don't have to say everything, but lay some of your burdens on us, too, so we can help."
He… honestly has never considered that as an option. Any emotion that he ever has – bad more than good, most of his life – he has always been forced to bottle them up. And in here, in places where there are no consequences to him letting his anger free, he does as he well pleases—
But that isn't the case, is it? A voice in him – his – whispers through the gaps of his fingers and running its velvety ghost of a touch along his spine. You just throw yourself into the fray, because when you let your anger reign free, you can forget the pain that seeing all of this brings. By throwing yourself into the fights, one after another, you're forcing yourself to forget the pain in you.
He bites his lip, looking away, emotions he doesn't want to feel latching its claws onto his skin and forcing him to look at the things that he has been doing for the past several – minutes? Hours? He isn't too sure anymore. And when he looks back at them, they're waiting. Patiently, kindly, gently—
"…I just—" He starts, then stopping himself short, unwilling to expose himself for them to see. Even if he has now considered him his friends, he would never be able to freely talk about everything that had happened, everything that had gone wrong. But then, this time, Arsène's voice is so soft and so warm, and it draws out something in him, something that prickles at his eyes and makes him wants to cry, "—I'm… not sure myself. I just want to forget, I think."
"Forget what?" Panther asks softly, the fire in her eyes dying down into embers, like a bonfire in the middle of a cold night, ready to warm his fingertips and lulling him to sleep. "You don't have to tell us everything. Just tell us what you think would help."
"…Looking at all of this," he says, gesturing his hands around the Palace at large – all the paintings of the twisted desires and all the fake devotions Madarame has placed upon himself – before putting those hands back on his head, pulling slightly at his hair as the true gravity of what he had been doing all these time since the entrance finally sinks in, like steel anchor upon the deep belly of the sea. "It reminds me of… things. Makes me feel what I don't want to feel."
He refuses to look them in the eyes, refuse to acknowledge that he had just talked about the very thing that is the foundation of of all his misery. Instead, he turns away, his fingers lingering over his mask, feeling Arsène's cackles rumbling through his very being as some sort of tether for him to keep his heart where it should be (where is shouldn't exist).
"Can we just… continue?" He mutters after a moment, his eyes scanning the vast labyrinth of Madarame's heart without much thoughts behind his action. He turns to them slightly, his eyes anywhere but at their faces. "I… can't talk more about this. Not now."
"…Alright," Panther finally relents, walking slightly forward, hands outstretched. In the end, she doesn't touch him, only hovering her hand over his shoulder before pulling away. Then, the fire and lightness return to her as she grins. "But! We're going to work as a team! No jumping into the fray by yourself, or I'll make sure your ass is fried to a crisp, okay?"
Arsène hums approvingly, and this time, Ren allows himself a slight smile instead of his usual maniacal smirk that he'd adorn whenever he's inside the world of the hearts. "…Alright. It's a deal."
(And how strange it is, for the bonds he has with all of them – of the Lovers, the Magician, the Chariot, and the newly formed Emperor – to pulse and glow with light, with life? How strange it is, that the Fool, too, is becoming stronger because of something like this? Of something so trivial, so insignificant?)
In the end, they have to call it a day, even if there's only but a few rooms left before they reach the so-called Treasure.
Ren sighs, scratching his head, as he tugs the bag closer to his frame. He still couldn't find it in him to look any of them – especially Ann – in the eyes, so he doesn't, allowing himself to be taken away by the flow of the people walking around Central Shibuya, without a care for their surroundings, without a care for any lost souls who seek salvations.
"Ren," Morgana says after he has managed to wriggle his way out of Ren's bag, his paws on Ren's shoulder and his whiskers twitching just slightly. When Ren hums in acknowledgement, Morgana mewls, low and gentle. "I think we should take a few days off."
That brings a frown to his face; while Morgana has acted more or less like a backseat driver, never once had he voiced his concerns about their infiltration schedules. But, he supposes, after today's… outbursts, it would come as no surprise. He surprisingly couldn't find it in him to argue, even if his head wants nothing more than to just finish securing the route and getting all of this over with, to finally free them of any worries or fears of being caught.
Ren sighs, scratching his head again and nodding lightly once. "…Alright. We'll take a… few days off. Maybe we'll start again on the 24th, if that's alright with you?"
"Yeah, sounds good to me." Morgana hums, nudging Ren's cheek with his nose. He couldn't find it in him to smile, but the gesture alone is enough to draw away some tensions from his shoulders. He reaches up a hand to pat Morgana's head as the not-cat continues. "We should check out those part-time jobs of yours. Who knows? Maybe you'll learn something interesting during work."
"Maybe," he shrugs, humming quietly into the night air as he decides to take a longer route back to Leblanc. If Morgana notices the change of scenery, he doesn't voice it. "I'm not too sure, but if I'm going to buy you food, maybe I should take those jobs. Hope there will be some night shifts I can clock in, too."
"…Ren," Morgana deadpans, making Ren falter in his step. He turns to look as the not-cat glares at him with disapproval. "Are you thinking about overworking yourself just now?"
"…No?" He says, sounding unconvincing even to himself, and he couldn't help but flinch. When those blue eyes don't yield, he could only sigh, nodding in resignation. "…I'll make sure to get proper rests, and I won't do anything outlandish after a night shift, I promise."
"That's… probably good enough for now," Morgana sighs dejectedly as he nuzzles Ren's shoulder blade before retreating back to the confines of his bag. "Just take care, okay? And you should probably meet with Maruki. Talk things out, give it another shot."
"Mhm," Ren hums noncommittally, and smiles slightly when he feels Morgana stretches inside his bag. He pats the not-cat through it once before murmuring. "Goodnight, Morgana."
"Goodnight, Ren."
(Even if he doesn't want to, he knows what Morgana had said has its own merits – he needs proper rest and downtime to be able to perform at full capacity, and he'd rather do that than risks his friends' lives because of his stubbornness.
However, the deal with Maruki is different – he doesn't want to bear his sins for anyone to see. He'd rather just die along with it, burying it deep into his bones and letting it melt away under his skin—
—But, for now, he decides to allow himself to be swayed, to talk to Maruki once more…
…Without knowing what pain and misery these conversations will bring to him, months from now.)