Exam has been kicking my ass, so sorry about the late update!
Chapter 17
Ren walks in first, and when Sakura turns, Ren bows slightly before gesturing towards his peers. "Sakura-san, uh… here's my friends from school. I'm sorry if it's on a little too short a notice—"
"It's okay, kid," the man says easily, waving at his own phone – at the screen where Ren has informed him of his friends' arrival not too long ago – before putting it away, his eyes looking over his ragtag group of friends whose bonds Ren shares with are as golden as the sun's aurous light. "So, these are your friends, huh? I'm the kid's guardian, Sakura Sojirou. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too, sir!" Ann says happily, with a smile as bright as Carmen's flame, as warm and gentle as ever before. Ren couldn't help but smile as she looks around. "This place smells so nice."
"I'm glad you like it," Sakura chuckles deeply, gesturing for them to take the seats at the counter. "Go on ahead. Since you're the kid's friends, then it's on me to give you a proper welcome. Sit down. This round is on the house."
"Thank you!" Ann grins brightly as she takes a seat right across from Sakura, while the other two takes each of her side. "So, he's your dad?"
Ren doesn't know what kind of expression he's sporting, but it must've been something close to anxiety (or embarrassment) (or both), with he feels the way his face heat up. He hears Sakura laugh, so Ren takes it that the man finds the idea as something joyful and not a gesture of disrespect (unlike how his father would act), and he's about to respond when Sakura says between snickers. "Nah, he wishes. I'm his guardian, at least until he finishes his probation."
"Probation?"
Yusuke repeats, and Ren is made acutely aware that anyone outside of Shujin but Sakura himself would not know of the reason he's been transferred here. Ren forcefully gulps down a wad of air forming in his throat as he looks around, fingers nervously playing at the edge of his arm sleeve as he makes his way to the back of the counter.
He glances up to see Sakura making a quiet oops, his look apologetic – even though, to Ren, it is by no means his fault – as he quickly waves his hand around. "Uh, not that it means anythin' much. Kid just got caught doing something stupid his age, is all."
Even if Ren's already known the man to be kind – at least since that little trip around Tokyo where he patted Ren's head until he cried his heart out – he has never before expected Sakura to twist the truth to defend him. And oh, the feeling of something deep and warm swelling in his chest is all too addicting, the rumbling sound of gentle thunder soothing his nerve like a kind embrace, and he has to yet again wonder if he really deserves all of this kindness, all of this love—
"I see," Yusuke takes the bait easily, but Ren sees clearly enough the way his thoughts swirl around. But the artist doesn't let it linger for too long as he smiles, at Ren and then at Sakura. "This place has a nice aroma and atmosphere to it. I look forward to tasting your coffee, sir."
"You bet," Sakura snorts, turning to Ren and quirking an eyebrow up at him. "So, you gonna help?"
"Yes, sir," Ren replies, donning the apron and looking at the selections of beans in the glass jars. He briefly concocts a suitable coffee for his friends, and while he could make it based on their personalities and food preference, he should ask them first. When Sakura nods at him with a smile, he turns to the three – and to Morgana, who seems pleased sitting on the counter just so – before speaking up. "I… don't know what kind of coffee would you all prefer. Any preference?"
"I prefer something mild, and sometimes with a surprise layer of taste underneath," Yusuke responds.
"I can do with most things, but I usually ordered like Espresso with cream," comes Ann's reply, and Ren makes a mental note when her face turns a little sour. "Tried pure Espresso once. Not really my taste."
"Eh, I don't like bitter shit. No coffee is sweet, so I'mma just stick with a soda," Ryuji says immediately, and Ren couldn't help but grin slightly – straightforward and caring about little to nothing, as always. Then, to his surprise, Ryuji adds. "But! If you have a cup in mind, I won't mind tasting out. No promise I won't spit, though – uh, if you're okay with it, Boss."
"Boss?" Sakura repeats with a hint of smile as his fingers trace over his beard. The man then laughs. "Sure, I don't mind. Coffee ain't for everyone. What do you have in mind for 'em, kid?"
"Café Au Lait for Yusuke, I think… a little mellow, maybe I'll add less steamed milk to let the acidity surface a little more," Ren hums, taking the American Roast into his hands. "With American roast. Might be a little tricky to combine them, but I'll try. For Ann, let's see… Cappuccino it is, then. Dark roast might not be viable, so I'll go with Full City. As for Ryuji, I guess I'll do Café Latte, since it's sweet with little bitterness."
He then pauses when he realizes that he's rambling on, and turns to Sakura with an apologetic look right away. But instead of being annoyed or whatever else Ren is expecting, the man is smiling, thoughtful and – if he dares to think – proud. His friends seem rather taken aback, as well, but he isn't given much time to look at their faces when Sakura nods. "Good choices. You're still stuck with the usual beginner's choices, but it's a good start. Let's see what you've got, kid."
"Yes, sir."
Ren then sets out to work, meticulously preparing each step with care – and with as much haste as he could squeeze in between, since he'd rather not bore his friends out of their minds on the first day in his room – while he listens to Sakura talking to Ann. "So, how's this guy been for you? He any good?"
Ann giggles, winking at Ren before turning back to Sakura. "He's nice! A little awkward, but definitely nice. Is he always this awkward around you?"
"Yep," Sakura snorts, kicking the back of Ren's shoe lightly and almost making him jump. But he doesn't look all that offended – instead, he looks rather… pleased? "As awkward as the first day. But he's improvin' a little bit, so I don't really mind. How did you all become friends?"
"We just kinda clicked," Ryuji grins easily, leaning back and waiting patiently. "Met him on my way to school. And I am her—" at this, he points at Ann, who huffs in response "—friend, so I just kinda dragged her into the party, too, I guess?"
"I see," Sakura hums quietly, fondly – something he definitely would have both missed and not believed, had he not seen and felt firsthand what Sakura actually thinks of him as – with his hand now serving as a pillow for his chin. "What about you, kid—?"
Ren tunes out the rest of the conversation and continues working on each cup with care, unable to help a smile forming from his lips, and the croon from Arsène from filling his empty heart with an emotion he has come to look forward to more and more.
After a short coffee time – where he was constantly and undeservingly praised for his good taste and better preparations – they all ascend the stairs to his room.
"Huh… this is actually much better than I thought it would be," Ryuji comments, crossing his arms and whistling into the air. Ren absently scuffs his shoe on a stain he spots at the steps as the blonde continues. "With you bein' all that afraid of the idea, I thought for a sec that it'd be like a prison or somethin'."
"It never was," Ren says, relaxed, now that he knows the other three have gotten along with Sakura quite well. He gestures for Yusuke to set his things down on the couch before he drags a few chairs around and about, forming a small circle in which they could gather and talk. "Here. Sorry if this place isn't cleaner than—"
"You kidding, right?" Ann says with giggles bubbling up while she makes a point to flaunt her hand about, rubbing her index on the wall and looking too closely at the pad of her finger. "Any cleaner than this and I swear to god I could slip. You have oddly high standards, haven't you?"
"…I guess?" He says, a little unsure himself, as he rubs the back of his neck. The others begin to sit down, with Yusuke pulling out his phone and scrolling through the screen with incredible speed. "Anyways, I haven't watched the recap of Akechi-san's shoot from yesterday. But I've read online that we've become quite the topics afterwards?"
"You could say that," Ann mutters, flame of irritation radiating from her in waves, arms crossed and brows furrowed to the point that Ren could literally feel the atmosphere burning up. But then, she sighs and relaxes, eyes as kind as she always makes them to be. "It would've been nice if you were there at the station, you know. Because I and Ryuji can't talk back to him without exposing ourselves."
"It's not like I talked back all that much," Ren hums, nudging the scar on his shoulder with his thumb gently, recalling the talk just from yesterday – with a boy who seems so much more complicated than just a simple goody-two-shoes-slash-asshole his friends said he was. "But… yes, he came off rather unpleasant at first. But he might actually be an interesting conversational partner."
"At least you found some fun in that," Ryuji rolls his eyes, but his following grin is good-natured. The boy then plops himself down next to Yusuke. "But because of the dude and his attitude towards us, those who've believed in us before were all influenced by him!"
"It is unfortunate," Yusuke hums with a saddened frown.
"At this rate, we're just going to worry everyone instead of giving them courage," Ann says with a scowl, one that seems to be tinged with worry and a smidge of fear. And Ren understands that, he really does – his friends want nothing more than to be a beacon of hope, but Akechi's live comments (ones that Ren actually agree with, to some extent) might have squandered that hope to dust.
"We need to find a way to make our rightfulness known to society," Morgana chips in, jumping into Ren's lap and slotting his head under Ren's palm. The not-cat smiles up at his briefly – as if asking for his silent approval – before he continues. "It's time we think about our next move—"
Targeting big shots. Getting back at scumbags.
And Tokyo is filled to the brim with them.
Ren's ears ring with a sense of certainty, a plan unspoken yet half-formed at the back of his head. While Madarame was a big step up from Kamoshida, if they want to correct someone like Akechi's way of thinking, or proving themselves to the world that they are just, to prove that the weak could fight against the strong that prey on them, then they need to take down someone who is inherently and undoubtedly evil. Someone who sees people as no more than mere tools—
(His father crosses his mind first and foremost, but he doesn't allow himself even a second to think on it; even if he could defy his father, and he knows he cannot, he doesn't even know the man's real name. He's been changing it constantly to fit his needs, with his public name being widely known amongst those who walk in the shadows, but much less so to the world at large. There is no way for Ren to change him – and there are no thoughts about rebelling against that man taking shape in his mind, even now. So, he decides to forfeit that fleeting, short-lived dream, even if Arsène is snarling and beating his wings against the insides of his skull like a drum of war.)
Mishima's Phan-Site could prove quite useful, but nothing of note comes to mind, so far – just complaints about stalkers that they have already dealt with before, or talks about crooks who burglar for a living that Ren plans on looking into soon. But still, aside from going to the streets first hand, he decides to check two places at once; the Phan-Site… and the school's social media.
They continue to chat, cornered and without ideas, so Ren simply pats Morgana's fur and scrolling down the lists of current talks. And he is about to give up himself after nothing catching his eyes, only for something to draw in his attention, something that has been pushed into obscurity by more mundane posts, by everyday trouble rather than something dark and twisted—
I need help, someone, please, it reads, and Ren frowns, Arsène tugging at the string between them and forcing him to look deeper. I just need money, and now I'm stuck. They'll report me if I tell anyone, and I'm going to die at this rate! These people, they're using me!
…Being used. Death at the horizon. Group of people.
The evidence is scarce, but something in his heart is certain; that he knows exactly what this means. And oh, he has the means to look into this, too. At the risk of his father's ire, that is—
Will you not do it, then? Arsène asks, midnight wings folding behind his form, slender and sharp fingers curling around the wreathe of flame surrounding his ever-shifting mask. Ren feels a sense of fear forming in his chest, one that bubbles and boils along with something else, too— You know exactly what it could have meant. Would you truly turn a blind eye? Again? Would you wait until eternity ends for your own safety, or would you risk it all to keep your friends and the innocents from harm?
Ren bites his lip, closing his phone and forcing his fist into his leg. With a sigh, he then coughs, stopping their conversation abruptly and drawing their attentions to him. "…Give me a few days. I… think I have an idea where to look for our next target."
The silence stretches, and the first eyes that Ren catches are Ann's, concerned and with enough reluctance in them that he could palpate the terror under her skin. "…It is not dangerous, is it?"
"No," he reassures, leaving the words just yet at the back of his throat. He looks down at his phone again, black screen reflecting off his face, now overlapped by Arsène's own. He frowns slightly and suppresses the urge to sigh before shaking his head to reaffirm his word. "It's not. Just need a few days to snoop around, and… I've found something on the Site. No solid proof yet, though."
"Just tell us if you need any help, 'kay?" Ryuji says, silently forcing Ren to nod that he's heard his statement before the blonde leans back. "I feel so bad leavin' all the hard work to you, man."
"Don't be," Ren hums amusedly. "You've done much for me, too. I want to help however I can, you know."
"As long as it's not dangerous, then sure," Ann says, the apprehension leaving her feature, replaced by a warm smile and a kind glint in her eyes. "Well then, we're not just here to talk about this, right? What should we do to welcome Yusuke?"
"Hm? Me?" The boy asks, dumbfounded. "You have already welcomed me to the group, have you not?"
"We already have," Ren says, and chuckles upon the loud, growl-like protest from Yusuke's stomach. He catches the boy's face going slightly red, which only makes the other three laughs along with him, too. "But we've just taken down another target, and it wouldn't feel right to leave it at just that. I believe a celebration is on order – although, I'm not sure if I could cover my part of the costs—"
"This again?" Morgana huffs, claws springing out of his paw and latching onto Ren's arm lightly – ow – before he hops down, disapproval clear in the way that he breathes. "Ren! We have the Thieves' money! This is the time and place for that!"
"But, the new weapons—"
"We can find more later!" Ryuji chips in. "Dude, seriously, your priorities are so screwed up. Don't worry about it! Use the damn group money! It's fine, I say so!"
"I second that," Ann says.
"I, as well," Yusuke hums. "It is no big deal, Ren. And I'm certain going on for a few more days with these current weapons of ours would be alright – you've picked out the best for all of us, after all."
Ren opens his mouth to protest, but something – many something in him – stir. The voices from the edge of the universe themselves, those who bear the Arcana of these people he wants so very dearly to call a family, then call to him; that it is alright like this. They trust him with this, so why would he not trust their calls, too?
So, in the end, he smiles, nodding once and nudging the silent anxiety out of his eyes. "…Okay. If you guys say so. What do you want to do for the celebrations, then?"
And so, they plan a hot pot out, the atmosphere light and kind, enough that it makes Ren want to sink into these feelings and never let go.
When they're finished, Ren decides to go about cleaning up the hot pot – ignoring the insistence from his friends that they could help, too – and going downstairs after a while to find Sakura grinning at him from behind the counter.
"…Sir?" Ren says, a little unsure, eyes glancing at the clock to see the needles going all the way to mark the time for the shop to nearly close already. "…Um, I'm sorry, we're a little… taken off the rails. I'll be sure to finish cleaning up then closing the shop as soon as we're done."
"I know you will. You always do," Sakura nods, delighted, as he walks over and forcefully takes the pots away from his arms. Before he could protest, the man shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, kid. I've got these. Go talk with your friends. I know you want to."
He wants to say so many buts, although that look in Sakura's eyes stops him. He's so kind, and as warm as Phoenix's fiery feathers, so he decides not to question it much, instead bowing his head – with gratitude and with happiness. "Thank you, sir. Then, if you'll excuse me."
When he returns back up, he could overhear Ryuji talking about his past, something Ren knows only from a glance but never deep enough to fully understand his position; a dream for a track scholarship squashed under an adult's ruthless need for servitude.
Ryuji just grins at him as he continues on, about how he knew Ann, about what happened before Ren came into the picture – and, purposefully, he avoids talking about most of their experiences together in Kamoshida's wicked Palace, too, bless his heart – as well as what happened after. And while Ren doesn't know all too well a parent's love for their child, Ryuji seems to cherish his mother as much as Ren thinks Yusuke does (did?) his own.
A part of him twists and cries, yearning to feel that love, but another part says that he's already found one; in Sakura, the man who seems cold, but in actuality is as warm as the spring's wind. And Ren couldn't help but smile at that one little realization, that he too has been exposed to that kind of feelings before. It might be brief, and not as deep and as intricate, but it's the beginning – and Ren wishes he could keep feeling like this. Could keep experiencing more of what he was never allowed to feel, never allowed to dream, never allowed to hope—
While Yusuke asks Ryuji for more details, and with the latter providing him, he couldn't help but notice the curious look Yusuke sends his way, even if he keeps his mouth shut tight, as if afraid to destroy a delicate little thing that his mind is. And, even though he appreciates it, this feels unfair to them; unfair that they're all showing him their wounds while he gets the chance to sit back and listen to their stories when he himself is exempted from saying one.
Why not say it, then? Arsène croons softly, and with his eyes closed, he could see it – see the Prince of Thieves hugging his form from behind, flaming breath licking his cheek and sending a burning shiver down his spine, searing his nerves to a crisp and making his breath hitches, in anticipation and in fear. They are your friends and someone you want to call family, are they not? Then why not tell them? Are you afraid that they will not believe in the truth? Or are you simply afraid to face the truth yourself?
He's—
"Dude's got it worse, though," Ryuji's voice cuts his thoughts off, and he blinks, looking up to see the boy pointing his thumb at him – tactlessly, but not without care – as he speaks. "This guy came in and Kamoshida just started runnin' his mouth and spreading rumors about. That he is a, what did the class prez call 'im again? A sociopath in the making?"
Ren stiffens, but only briefly – he knows full well that Yusuke would not think less of him, even with all the rumors being laid bare, but he still couldn't help that rush of anxiety that overcomes him. But, to steel his belief in this ragtag group of friends that they are, Yusuke simply looks at him, snorting a small laughter and rolling his eyes. "As if I would believe something so crude."
At this, he sees Ann shifts to sit up, and Ryuji blinks twice before muttering. "Awake already?"
"Have been for a while," she yawns softly, rubbing her eyes before looking at him for a permission. Maybe to say more about the rumors – and Ren just knows that Yusuke will not become like the rest, too, so he allows himself a nod. She takes it and hums. "Anyways, they said he punched a man then tried to stab him, so got stabbed back or something. Also something about vandalizing his car?"
"Nonsense. I do not believe Ren to be capable of violence, with or without reasons," Yusuke declares, cold fury pointing at the unnamed stranger and not him. When Morgana meows and smiles up at him from where he is, curled up on his lap, Ren wanders again what he did right for the world to bless him with so many good friends in such short span of a time? "I wish we know who he is, though. Even if we cannot erase your records, we might be able to bring him to justice yet."
"No point," Ren shakes his head, voice dry and scratchy. Arsène's words then ring in his ears again, like tolls of the distant bell, calling for him to act, for him to say his mind, to— "It won't change a thing, and I don't even know who he is. He managed to keep his names out of the records, too."
In no small part due to father's help, is left unspoken.
"Fucking damnit," Ryuji spits. "I can't stand this shit! Why do people like Ren has to go through all of this, while bastards like that gets to walk freely around! It ain't fair at all! World's so messed up, and the weak are left to fend for themselves while the strong just trample on 'em!"
"And those in power will do nothing to help the situation," Morgana sighs.
"Can't we fix this, though?" Yusuke says, a growl echoing out of his throat like a prayer, Goemon's frigid cold seeping into the woods beneath his feet. "Nobody would even know. We just need to show the world what true justice is. We'll make them come to their senses."
"That's right," Ann says, firm and unflinching, as Ryuji gets to his feet and manages out a hell yeah through the tense air around them. "This must be what our powers are for. We can't just watch the strong do as they pleased like this! Not to people like Ren. Not to us. Not to anyone else."
They continue on for a while, with determination and fire of rebellion loose in their veins, marching along their whirling pulses and setting alight the sparks of revolution that could cascade to another soul, then another, then another—
Are you afraid that they will not believe in the truth? Or are you simply afraid to face the truth yourself?
"…April 22nd, 2015."
His voice is rough and raw, with fear and anxiousness more than anything else. But Arsène is cooing, in approval and in encouragement. And he knows all along that the Prince of Thieves is right, that Ren is simply too afraid to recall the truth himself, that he sees it as his own damn fault and not the injustice of the world led askew by those in power. But, even if he doesn't want to, if he wants to grow stronger, to become something more, to be able to help more and protect those that he's come to love, he needs to do this – to face himself, to face his own fears and insecurities—
—To trust in his friends and their bonds, to trust that they will see him for what he is, beneath all the walls and the shells that he has built up around himself.
When he looks up, the four of them are glancing at him with curiosity. Ren forces out a small smile as he looks back down at his lap, at Morgana's bright blue eyes that shimmer and shine as bright as that strange boy – as Mochizuki Ryoji's – own. With another breath, he begins. "…that's when the incident happened. On my way back from… my tutor's place to my house, I met the man."
He closes his eyes and breathes, allowing the images of a year ago to come back into his senses. He could feel the familiar panic bubbles and seeps into his marrows, but this time, Arsène's wings are there to keep it all at bay – as if he had been waiting for the moment when Ren would say this out loud for as long as he had existed.
"He was… drunk, and was trying to force himself on a woman. I should've looked the other way, should have continued on with my life, but – I couldn't. Somehow, I just couldn't," he murmurs, looking anywhere but at their gazes. But he could see from his periphery that they're listening intently, and the air is silent and nearly stale – but it is there, that sense of warmth that always linger around them. "So, I… tried to defend her, pulled her out of harm's way. The man attacked me with his knife, so I punched him back in return, enough to make him crack his head on the floor. But… not before he stabbed me."
His hand then trails towards the stab wound on his shoulder, one that burns and boils his skin to cinders over and over every time something reminds him of his own folly. He remembers well the moment the knife sunk into his flesh – he didn't feel much pain, at first, only the numbness where the blade had eaten into his bones and the warmth of blood running down his fingertips. The burns are never from the pain of the wound. They are something that remind him of the night that changed everything, for better or for worse.
"…In the end, what I did doesn't really matter," Ren says, closing his eyes and leaning back against his seat, feeling Morgana's weight shift in his lap, but never leave. He hums, imitating the hymn from Arsène and his other entourages, before he whispers. "The man was – is – very powerful. I don't remember his face, nor the woman's, and… he sued me and twisted the woman's testimony so that I alone started it all, and in the end… got me sentenced to probation here. And because of my sentences, no one believed anything that I said. I was left all alone, and… I was expected to serve that sentence then disappear from society for the rest of my days."
And with the help of my father, my fate is all but sealed the moment I strayed from my intended path, Ren whispers softly to the star beyond his gaze. And, after a brief pause, when he is certain nothing will be returned, he looks back down – at last.
They are watching him, contemplative and with sympathy, but never pity – they understand, and they are saddened, but they do not pity him. Not pity, but compassion – they don't see him as someone beneath, someone in need of being looked after, but rather someone capable who's been dealt and unfortunate hand. And he's grateful, because he doesn't want any more pity, doesn't want empty lies placed inside his ears and biting into his skull—
"Thank you," Morgana says softly, and Ren glances to the not-cat to see a rueful smile, one that seems to shine brighter as he speaks. "…For telling us. It means a lot."
Ren blinks – why would they thank him, when instead it should've been the other way around, it should've been him who thank them for listening, for putting up with him, for being so gentle and warm all the time? But his question is left unanswered when Ann suddenly gets up, marches over to him – ignoring the other three's protests and Ren's half-gaping mouth – and pulls him up to his feet.
And then, she crushes him in her arms, warm and gentle and oh-so-kind.
He expects the touch to burn, to scald his flesh and mars his bones, but all that he feels is the delicious, almost addicting warmth that slowly settles in and forces him to relax, to breathe. And when he thinks she would keep her silence, he hears her voice, a soft whisper against the fabric of his shirt, now slightly dampened by something from her eyes (tears, a part of him supplies). "I'm so sorry all those happened to you. If you need any help, just tell us, okay? We'll always be there."
"Yeah, you can tell us anythin'," Ryuji says, and once again, he's pulled into another layer of hug. The boy is smiling at him, kindly, even if that edge of roughness and poorly-refined tact still remains. "If we met that little shit, I swear to god I'll beat 'im to a pulp for you!"
"You have my support as well," Yusuke says, but the boy doesn't gather him up into an embrace like the other two. Instead, reluctantly, he places his hand on Ren's own, fingers gentle and careful. When Ren doesn't pull away – still too shell-shocked from the sudden breach of privacy that is far too good to feel for it to be normal – Yusuke hums. "We will not allow you to disappear. You're our friend, after all."
"What he said," Morgana says from somewhere beyond Ann and Ryuji's forms, but then he feels it, the familiar warmth curling around his leg. He couldn't look down, and Ann is holding his neck impossibly tighter, enough that he could feel the air leaving his lungs. "Your future isn't over yet. And we're here for that, you know. You can lean on us – let us help you the way you help us all, too."
Ren opens his mouth, to try to say something—
—But when Ann pulls his head into her shoulder and cards her fingers through his hair, every thought and word in him just crumbles into little nothings at the tip of his tongue.
And, as he cries and holds her back like a lifeline, their touches all so warm and so intoxicatingly gentle he never wants to let go, he is left to wonder if it is alright for him to feel like this.
(Arsène doesn't laugh, doesn't coo, but he watches, a silent guardian dancing at the edge of his heart as he soaks himself in the warm embraces and the kind words and the faint hope blooming at the horizon. Hellfire turns into embers, licking at his skin and warming his empty, frozen heart into something else. A cinder. A spark. Something he never has, and something he always wants to hold—
The ability; the thing that makes him truly alive. To see himself as a human. To be seen as a human. To be able to feel warm arms around him and soft words in his ears and kind hearts shared in his chest.
He laughs and cries as Arsène hums in contentment, and as a vow; silent, but authoritative. That he, even if all of this is ripped away from him, even after all of it is torn asunder into nothing but memories at the back of his mind, he will stay within Ren's shadow for the rest of his days.
The dream of the Velvet Room doesn't scare him this time as Igor rambles on and on, about the bonds that have been formed and strengthened behind the veils of reality, the Arcana of the Fool – one that represents Arsène and his bonds with the Thieves – growing ever brighter, ever stronger; just as bright as burning as the Lovers, the Chariot, the Emperor and the Magician.
Somewhere in the world, a butterfly flaps its wings.)
(Sojirou is careful as he steps away from the stairs, leaving Amamiya's cry to flit and hover in the air as he silently leaves the shop for the day.
He didn't mean to pry, but couldn't help from overhearing it; the room was silent, after all, and the kid's voice was loud enough in the dead air for every word to be clearly understood. And to think the version from the kid's story would contrast with what he had heard so much, it makes him think…
He frowns as he decides to not return home just yet. Futaba must've already been asleep, and him straying out of the way for only a few more moments couldn't possibly hurt anyone. So, he decides to walk to the opposite side of his home and further down the now silent street of Yongen-Jaya, and to a familiar clinic with its light still flickering on even at this time of the day.
He knocks the door thrice and waits, Amamiya's words floating in his head and making his gut churn. And to think that the stories came from the kid's father's associates – while he knows rumors can turn out stupid and vile and dangerous, for his own father to sent someone with that understanding to him? To talk about his own child as if he's an irredeemable villain? Instead of just a normal boy?
(Normal? No, not normal. Gentle, and kind, and broken, yes. But not normal. The kid is far from being normal, and Sojirou sure as hell will not leave it at this.)
"…Sakura-san?" Takemi says, surprise painted clear in her face. "What's up? Why are you—"
"I need to talk to you. About Amamiya," he says curtly, and those words are enough for Takemi to invite him into her clinic in and instant. When the door is closed, he sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and recalling seeing the boy taking some pills while he thought Sojirou wasn't looking— "First, I just found out what really happened. And second, have you given him anything remotely close to something like antidepressants or drugs for all the mental disorders before?"
Takemi frowns before pulling him deeper into her clinic and starting their lengthy discussion, one that would introduce him to someone else (a therapist), to a place Sojirou has never wanted to look at.
Something – anything – to help a kid so kind. He'll not fail another child, ever again.)
June 12th, 2016 [Sun]
He overslept.
He fucking overslept (it's something new that has never happened before in his entire life and he doesn't know what to think—) and Yusuke is gone, and he couldn't help but feel like something has gone horribly wrong, that he has done—
"Oh, you're awake?"
Sakura's voice jolts him out of his head, and Ren looks up to see the man smiling at him gently, easing away the panic that still eats at him every time he does something even remotely wrong. So, after a pause where he makes sure Morgana hasn't been squished by his sudden bolt to wakefulness, he nods. "Ah, uh… yes. I'm sorry, Sakura-san. I overslept—"
"You've never done that before, have you?" Sakura chuckles, dragging a chair to his bedside and sitting down, regarding Morgana with a gentle pat to the head as he sets the tray upon his bed, with warm curry – his specialty – and a cup of coffee on it. "You know, most teenagers I know, they sleep like rocks on a Sunday. You never did that, and this is the first. So, consider this as a sign to take a day off. I think you need it, kiddo."
"I—" Ren begins his protest, only for Sakura's gaze to dare him to do just that. And so, he gulps back the words forming in his mouth, instead smiling and nodding slightly. "…If you insist, sir. Uh… thank you?"
"The Yusuke kid is a good one," Sakura hums, gesturing for Ren to start eating. When he does, taking the first bite of the warm meal that has never once failed to greet him in the morning, Sakura continues to talk with a fond smile. "He decided to go back to his dorm just this morning, and left that painting here, too. Just so you don't panic more."
"…I see," Ren says, looking down at his curry briefly before glancing back up. "Uh, you opened the shop hours ago, right? I should probably leave before customers come—"
"Don't fret about it, kid," Sakura laughs gently, ruffling his hair and letting the strange warmth seep into his head again, and just like last night, he feels like he wants to sink into this feeling forever. "As I've said, you're my family now. You're welcome to stay while I take care of the shop… long as you don't do something stupid. I doubt you would, but still."
Against all odds, he finds himself chuckling minutely as Sakura pushes his head back and forth almost playfully, the strums of Arsène's fingertips against mighty white mane of a nameless Persona soothing his heart and bathing him in its gentle melody. "I understand, sir."
"Anyway, before I go back down, I want to ask you two things," Sakura says, putting up two fingers, with both seriousness and playfulness that make him drop his guards and puts it back up. Ren forces himself to relax as the great beast rumbles deep within him. "If you want to, of course. I'm not going to force you or anything."
He bites back the you can tell me what you want me to do instead, sir, because right now, he knows that is not the answer Sakura wants. He seems to want Ren to make a choice of his own, and while Ren still fears what the man would do if he even does something remotely undesirable, the gentle yet powerful beast that rests at the corner of his mind does not react. Its low, deep growl tells him something that rationality will never allow him to do; to trust the man, that he will continue to be kind whichever answer it is he so choose.
So, when he nods, Sakura says. "First, I want you to try to drop the sirs. We've been with each other for two damn months, and you never dropped it once. Once! Any normal, rebellious kid would've come up with a more disrespectful way to address me without getting on my nerve by now, and I want you to try doing just that. Got it?"
"Uh… yes, s—" Ren begins, only to clap his hand over his mouth, drawing a laughter from Morgana and a half-defeated sigh from Sakura. "…Yes. I'll… try, s— um, Sakura-san."
"That's better than nothing, I guess," Sakura shakes his head before pulling down a finger, leaving one up in the air. "Next is, since I've told you that we're family now, you must – well, maybe not that strictly, but I want you to at least try – to call me by my first name. Can you do that?"
Ren pauses briefly, unsure of what to actually say or do. But the look in Sakura's eyes is so genuine, and full of affection; strange, unfounded, misplaced in Ren's eyes. And yet—
"…I'll try, uh," he pauses, taking a moment to roll the word on his tongue, tasting it, feeling it. Then, he allows a smile to cross his lips when he feels the gentle beast rumbles again. "…Sojirou-san."
"Just Sojirou is fine, but that'll do," the man laughs lightly, patting his head once more before getting up. "Do whatever you want today, and don't fret about it, kid. I'll be down there if you need anything."
And when Saku – Sojirou – leaves, Ren is left with Morgana's warm fur, and a sense of completion swelling in his chest, warm and gentle and filling him with joy.
(The gentle beast stirs, mighty roars turning into voiceless words of love and affection, and of respect; and Arsène responds in kind, bowing as the beast appears along the edge of his mind. Its name remains a mystery, but its ruby red eyes and its golden-hued whiskers come into his view, and Ren is left staring in awe at the beast's visage; a dragon of yore, its rumbling roar and thunderous mane not at all intimidating, but calm. And gentle. Far too gentle.
The Hierophant grows stronger, and so too does the power of Arsène, of the Fool, one that encompasses all, and one that embodies none.
Somewhere in the world, a butterfly flaps its wings.)
June 13th, 2016 [Mon]
"Oh, a surprise seeing you here!"
Ren turns to the voice, to see Akechi walking up to him – and gone are his suit and gloves, replaced by nothing more than a summer's uniform, with stripped necktie and short sleeves. Ren bows his head just slightly, the train still far from arriving. And, judging from the long, unending line, far from being empty enough for Ren to enter. "Good morning, Akechi-san."
"There's no need to be so formal with me," the boy laughs lightly as he joins Ren, eyes curiously trailing down his arms, with black sleeves that guard his flesh from the world. He becomes almost too conscious of it, but is spared with Akechi lifts his eyes up. "…Well, but if so, would it be alright if I were to refer to you simply as Amamiya?"
"Yeah," he hums, tilting his head to the side and feeling the summer's heat brushing along his brows. He takes a moment, noticing a steel case in Akechi's hand. "…is that for school, or for your work?"
"Work, of course," Akechi says flatly, with a subtle hint of dismay lacing under his honeyed voice. Ren frowns at the discrepancy, but doesn't say anything about it. "How are you doing, by the by?"
"A little rattled, I guess," Ren says. The past few days have been… oddly liberating. Stressful, but liberating. "There's a lot for me to take in, but everything turns out better than I'd hoped."
"Good for you," Akechi hums, his voice leveled and noncommittal. Ren thinks he detects something akin to envy, but isn't given time to ponder much on it when the boy smiles again. "It's an honest response, if only a little… depressing. I wish I could've said such things in my interviews, too."
"Faces to keep?" Ren asks. His father also has such a thing, too; a reputation to uphold, a face to keep, a front to brush and clean. He shudders at the memories, but also recalls the excruciating details he had been taught about all the things regarding politics and… all else that comes with it—
At this, Akechi's smile, even if it's sad, is genuine. Amused, too. "Faces to keep, indeed. Being a celebrity is such a bore, and I wish I could've kept away from the screens and the cameras."
Ren decides not to pursue the topic, instead changing it to something lighter; the weather, the air, the people, all the while feeling something strangely sad he couldn't quite place in the way Akechi looks after him as he steps onto the train to head to Shujin for the day.
"What do you want?"
His voice comes out sharper and harsher than he's intended, but he doesn't have any kind of plan to tone down his hostility towards Niijima anytime soon. He brushes the way the name sits deeply on his tongue away, a reminder of some kind, of something he couldn't remember from a time he couldn't recall.
She seems slightly startled; either by his choices of words, curt and unrefined, or by his tone, dripping with venom and harsh with nothing but animosity. But she recovers quickly, taking a seat and gesturing for the chair across from her. When he doesn't move, she sighs. "…Come, take a seat. It would be quite a long talk, and I don't think you'd appreciate standing—"
"I'm not sitting around the same table as you," he snaps, fingers curling inside the pockets of his pants, eyes glaring at her. She seems a little surprised, but doesn't show it much in the way she twitches. Ren spies the laptop on the table, and a part of him thinks he knows what it is that she's about to do. "State your business. You don't have to act all buddy-buddy with me, Senpai."
"…Very well," Niijima says with a frown. "Then, I'll get straight to the point; Kamoshida-san and Madarame – won't you tell me the truth behind the Phantom Thieves' incidents?"
"What truth?" He says, perfecting masking his voice with ignorance. Arsène laughs in delight as he feigns his innocence in ways he's always seen, in ways that he's always been taught— "There is no truth for me to tell. I'm not a part of those incidents. I don't even believe in the Phantom Thieves."
Niijima scowls, clearly not expecting him to say those lines so naturally and so emotionlessly. And oh, a sick, twisted part of him laughs. You have no idea how much pain and suffering I have to go through before, and this is but a child's play— "I suppose I should've expected better than for you to be upfront with me. Then, have a listen at this."
She then pulls out her phone, and plays a recording on it; of the sound of Ann and Ryuji bickering about doing their works as the Phantom Thieves.
Ren couldn't really blame them, though; from that piece, he believes it to be when Niijima walked right into their conversation just two, three days ago. So, he crosses his arms – they are at a disadvantage, since if this piece goes to the public, real or not, it would drag Ann and Ryuji down to the mud, too. He's fine with being exposed, since all he's doing is delaying the inevitable that is the end of his future, but he's not going to allow them to fall with him.
"How did you do it?" She says, crossing her arms and drawing Ren's eyes up. By now, the light in her eyes has turned into something fierce and unyielding. At this, Isis seems to shift in his chest, as if to alert him to something, to respond to a question unspoken as Niijima continues. "Was it blackmail? Hypnosis? How do you corner someone into making them confess?"
Ren is about to retort, to reply, when something strikes him odd; if she has this evidence, why not talk to the principal and tell him about it? Why not rat them out? And it always returns to the same damn thing;
She wants something from him, and in return, she might not sell them out to the wolves.
Ren suppresses the urge to sigh, crossing his arms and leaning back, his heartbeat as thunderous and as fierce as Arsène's growing laughter. "You don't have to beat around the bush. You could've ended us if you wanted. What do you want us to do?"
She pauses briefly before nodding once. Ren absently cuts the call from Ryuji, and taps a "I'll reply back later" into their group chat before looking up. "I wish to speak with all of you first."
"I don't guarantee if it'll go well, but it's your fucking funeral," Ren spits, getting up with Morgana looking worriedly at him. Ren only shakes his head before he nods towards the door. "Don't expect any of them to be all that kind with you, Senpai. I sure as hell won't."
"…I see," she says, an note of something he couldn't quite name in her voice, cracked and trembling at the edge. He doesn't think on it much, and is only forced to return his attention back to her when she speaks up. "…You know, it's because you act this way that I think of the rumors to be true."
Something aside from the familiar sense of fear bites at his chest, and it takes him a moment to realize that it's anger. Arsène growls deeply, challenging her through the curtains between mind and matter. Ren fists his hands tightly and doesn't turn to her as he half-spits into the floor. "I don't fucking care what people like you think anymore. You're useless to me. And you always will be."
Some words he used must've struck the nail on the head, because her voice rises, with contempt and anger and pain. "I'm not—!"
"Don't waste your breath with me," Ren says at last, cutting her off. Words hurt, they do, they hurt all the time – but his friends' matter more. Their thoughts and feelings are everything to him, and this student council president who did nothing but stood by as Ann and Ryuji and whoever else were terrorized by Kamoshida has no right to judge him. She doesn't have powers over him, and even if she does… he thinks he's more than ready to fight back, with Arsène here with him.
The Prince of Thieves laughs as they continue walking in silence, to a place where the rest of his friends (his self-proclaimed family, the ones who give him meaning to life) are.
When she finishes her explanation to the group, with Ren simply listening to her going on and on and on about it, Ann finally snaps.
"I bet someone told you to find us. The school can't have ties to criminals, after all," Ann snarls, voice low and frozen, the fire of fury colder than even Yusuke's own. Ren couldn't help but both be proud and scared of this. "And yet they turn a blind eye when it comes to suicide and sexual harassment. This is so bullshit on so many levels. And you're allowing them to use you. I just… feel sorry for you."
There's silence, and words are whispered into the incessant buzz behind his head. But then, something shifts – Niijima stands straight up, eyes on his for a moment before she declares. "…I would like to verify the justice you speak of."
"…Hah," Ren laughs, shaking his head and crossing his arms, allowing the maddening rumble of Arsène's croaked chuckles to rip out of him. "You? Verify justice? When you stood by and do nothing? Better yet, when you know nothing at all and already judging someone else as a fucking criminal for it?" At this, he sees Ann nods, fiery anger that suits her better than the cold hatred lighting up in her eyes once more. "I have no qualms with you thinking of me as whatever you like, Senpai… but you have no rights to speak about justice when you yourself aren't even trying to justly see us as what we are."
She pauses, clearly surprised. And when there are no words, no retorts coming out of her, Ren knows that the argument is all but won.
Alas, she wishes to make a deal, and he'll humor her by it. He doesn't care about her justice, but it seems like she wants to do something – perhaps to gain fame, or to follow the principal's rules. But if what she suggests could actually mean finding a new target, then he'll do it. "But that's beside the point. Don't speak of justice again and we're good. What do you want us to do?"
"…If you can prove that what you're doing is right, then I'll erase this," she says quietly, with hesitation and another emotion Ren couldn't quite name. The word right coming from her rubs him in the worst way possible, but he bites his tongue to stop himself from saying anything as she continues. "There is someone whose heart I'd like you to change."
"Who?" Yusuke says sharply.
Niijima seems like she wants to quip, or to say something, but Ren clears his throat to stop her. He doesn't need her acting all high and mighty, thank you. "…I cannot tell you that just yet. I'll continue this talk on the roof of our school tomorrow. Assuming you accept my offer, that is.
The others start to protest, but Ren stops them with a raised hand. But then, he feels something odd – if she wants to change someone, it has to be something related to the school at large. Maybe that boiling sensation he's been feeling since that little post on the Phan-Site is real, and this really has something to do with the world he is destined to return, too.
"…Fine," Ren decides to say, exhaling and pushing his hair out of his eyes. There can be no more room in him for hesitation. If it really involves those people… he either has to go all the way with this, or none at all. Any half-attempts would result in unprecedented danger to all of his friends, and he will not allow that, never allow that, even if it means he'll have to speed up his doom, drawing the ire of his father and searing brand back onto his skin— "We'll be there."
And when she leaves, Ren only turns to Ryuji and Ann, who's starting to fidget on their feet—
"I'm sorr—"
"It's fine," Ren says with a smile, easing away the tension in his neck. Yusuke blinks slightly, either in surprise of his sudden change in attitude, or him forgiving the two of them so easily. Ren doesn't know which, and he finds that he doesn't mind much. "What's done is done. You can get too excited sometimes, and I know this. I should've stopped you. Sorry."
"Why the hell are you apologizing?" Ryuji grumbles, putting his hand together and bowing his head at Ren despite his protest. "I've gotta! Sorry, man!"
"Even if the recording is insufficient, it would affect your probation as well. Not to mention that we will all be put under police surveillances…" Yusuke says with a frown. "…This is quite unfortunate."
"It's fine. I'll not let anything happen to any of you," Ren says, and feels Morgana climbing up his shoulder fully as he speaks. With a sigh, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry for accepting her offer, but no matter how I look at it, at best we're under close watch. At worst, you could all be put on probation as I am, and I don't doubt the capabilities of the system of laws to punish us."
"Nah, it's fine. I know you always think these things through," Ann waves her hand, heaving out a long breath, before looking after where Niijima had gone to. "Still, the nerve of that woman…"
"A favor for a favor, a deal for a deal," Ren says, and upon looks of collective confusion from his friends, smiles. "It's how the world works. Aside from you four, this is how the world will always be. I guess we'll just have to play along for now, and… I'll tell you when I figure out something else."
Ren doesn't miss the strange look Ann gives him, but says nothing when the others nod in agreement and, for the day, scatter back to their homes, lying in wait for a harsh tomorrow to come.