The day was cloudy, a bit cold, the weather seeming like it could shift at any moment. Not unlike Haru's mood, perhaps. But she was remaining optimistic.
On her way from the shop and heading directly for Le Blanc, Haru was carrying a couple of bags of goodies for the loved ones she was about to see.
Supplied and on her way down the cramped street, Haru worked one bag around her shoulder to free up an arm for her phone.
She had a text from Hifumi, and the sight made her chest lightened. Just a little. They had gone on a couple of proper 'dates' by now, as secretive as they were – on top of handling that 'police officer' matter for Shiho and Ohya.
Hifumi had encouraged,
[ I will contact him after you've explained our current situation. ]-
[ Please try not to worry about that today. ]-
[ Enjoy yourself! Everything will be fine. ]-
[ There's no way he won't enjoy your radiant company, darling. ]-
Haru felt her face widen into a silly grin. She could feel her face flush with heat at the recollection of Hifumi's use of affectionate titles spoken in sly whispers.
She fumbled her hands around to form a coherent reply.
-[ Thank you, Hifumi-Chan. ]
-[ I will let you know how it goes! ]
Haru's thumb cautiously hovered over the 'sparkly heart' emoji. Would she dare?
She dared.
She sent it, even!
Regaining her composure from the rush of administering such bold texting tactics, Haru noticed she also had a message from Futaba.
Oh. Many messages? Futaba had gone on a bit of a ramble, hm?
[ I dunno, Onee-chan, he's ]-
[ being kinda weird? ]-
[ oh poop ]-
[ He just left? ]-
[ OK, nevermind, he went to check in with the doc ]-
[ I guess? ]-
[ No idea what's up ]-
[ But Morgana's here. ]-
[ So ]-
[ That's a thing. ]-
Somewhat perplexed and concerned, Haru decided to not let this get to her. She had to take this one step at a time. Amamiya-San acting 'kinda weird,' as Futaba had put it – it was no surprise to Haru. Despite her lengthy attempt at catching Ren up on current affairs, she'd received little to no reaction from the young man. She knew he had to care, so she was admittedly rather confused by his lack of meaningful response. She was indeed worried about him, but maybe what he needed was just a friendly conversation and a nice meal. At the very least, it wouldn't hurt things.
-[ I'm nearly there! ]
Haru replied to her Imouto-chan.
Reaching her destination a couple minutes later – after nearly spilling her groceries when a bicyclist brushed by – Haru let herself into the cafe, its chime just as welcoming and comforting as it ever was.
"Ah, and there she is," Sojiro greeted, finishing up brewing the coffee Haru had given Futaba to relay – beans from her own, personally grown stash, fitting for an occasion such as this.
The wafting steam of that fresh brew titillated Haru's nose, her chest tightening with excitement at the prospect of the beverage – a certain reaction fresh coffee was beginning to stir within her as of late.
"Onee-chan!" Futaba cheered, flailing her arms up from her seat at their designated booth.
"-prrpp~?-" That inquisitive sound a cat makes when it's surprised rose up from Futaba's lap, and a moment later, Morgana poked his head up from beneath the table.
Haru gave him a polite wave, a twinkle in her eye as she watched his face stiffen with suspicion.
Morgana, eyeing Haru cautiously, wondered aloud, "Is that...tuna I smell?"
Haru couldn't contain her glee, and smiled wide, nodding. She wiggled the bag containing the sushi she'd procured, and Morgana gasped, overjoyed.
Futaba yelped as the cat pounced off of her with vigor, standing atop the table she was seated at and sniffing voraciously.
Haru giggled, Sojiro grunted out, "Hey, now, get those dirty paws off my table!" and Morgana swooned as Haru scratched her fingers delicately behind his ears.
"And I thought he was happy to see me," Futaba said with a light chuckle as Morgana nuzzled his face against Haru's palm and wrist.
"Hey," Morgana whimpered defensively, "I am happy to see you guys, but...-" He poked his nose around at the bag of sushi. "...sushi~" he moaned, as if he were about to melt.
As Haru fussed the eager cat away long enough to unpackage the sushi container and set it at Futaba's feet, Morgana howled out, "Yes yes yes yesssss gimme~"
It reminded Haru of the way he used to react to nearby Treasures when they'd plundered Palaces all those years ago.
"If I didn't know any better," Sojiro mused dryly, "I'd think that cat was in heat."
"Mm uh BOI!" Morgana cited, simultaneously offended and yet too delighted at sushi filling his cheeks.
Futaba and Haru exchanged amused smirks and soft laughter as they watched their friend chow down. Haru produced a tall can of energy drink for Futaba from the same bag she'd carried the sushi in, and Futaba squealed quietly, grasping at it with glee.
Glancing down at the feasting Morgana Haru explained, "I figured that since we're treating Amamiya-San with a nice lunch, it was only fair to give Morgana one, too."
Morgana took enough of a breath from his meal to proclaim, "Somebody remembered how to roll out the red carpet for me, at least!" he immediately shoved his face right back into the fish.
With a chuckle through her nose, Haru bent over, stroking her hand from the black cat's skull all the way to the tip of his tail. As she did this, she warmly stated, "I certainly wouldn't want you feeling forgotten, Mona-Chan."
"Thoughtful as ever," noted Sojiro, hand on his hip as he gazed over the counter toward the hungry cat, having not understood a word the feline had said, but clearly having observed the gratitude.
Futaba knelt over the edge of her table to pet him as he ate, as well, sipping at her newly opened energy drink. Haru carefully wormed her way around, administering a light hug to Futaba-Chan before she set her other bag – the one containing ingredients – upon the far edge of the counter.
Haru put out there, "I understand that...Amamiya-San went to visit his physician?"
"Oh, is that where he went off to?" Sojiro mumbled, scratching his head. "He left so suddenly, I assumed maybe he was meeting up with you, Haru."
"O-Oh, no," Haru timidly diffused that idea. "I was just picking up some sushi, and...-" She trailed off, shrugging. Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to bring up how distant he'd been acting. Perhaps with Sojiro and Futaba, things were still fine? She didn't want to rock any boats. "I also brought fresh vegetables from my garden."
"Ah, right," said Sojiro, "You wanted to have another crack at that curry recipe, did you?"
"Mm!" Haru hummed confidently, unbagging vegetables. "I've been practicing what you showed me."
Drying his coffee-stained hands off with a rag, Sojiro offered, "Since we're waiting on that fool to come back around, why don't I get you a cup of this coffee and help you with the meal?"
"Oh, I-..." Haru paused, contemplating this. After a single moment's thought, she responded, "I was actually hoping to share that coffee with him – thank you very much for preparing it, by the way." At this, Sojiro casually tossed a wrist, with a gentle shake of his head. Haru followed up, "Although, you're certainly more experienced than I am, and I'd like this curry to live up to what Ren-Kun likely remembers, so-...That is to say, yes, I would appreciate the assistance with preparing lunch, thank you."
Sojiro chuckled a bit at Haru's formality, giving her a soft pat on the back as he passed her by.
He then remarked with a wry waggle of his brows, "Maybe we can even get Futaba to help out."
"Huh? What?" Futaba spat, after and before guzzles of her drink.
"Imouto-Chan," Haru called pleasantly, hoping that title use would smooth over the request. "We were wondering if you could help us cook curry."
Futaba stared at Haru, blinking dumbly. She fussed with her glasses slightly, her eyes darting away and then coming back. Haru maintained her hopeful expression through this, and Futaba got the message.
Gulping down the last of her beverage – perhaps having consumed it too quickly in Haru's mind – Futaba sprung up from the booth, puffed up her chest, frowned seriously, and thrust her arm out in a exaggerated salute.
"Aye-Aye, Captain Okumura! You can count on me!"
"Wh-...?" Sojiro huffed out, flabbergasted. Amused but confused, he wondered, "Why is she Captain? Isn't this my ship?"
"Yugh-!" Futaba eked out, flinching. "Y-You're co-Captains for today's voyage!"
A scoffing laugh spilled out of Sojiro's nostrils as he lifted a brow, smirking at Haru.
"I suppose at my age, it couldn't hurt to let someone else steer this vessel now and again..."
"Sakura-San," Haru scoffed with an empathetic optimism, "You aren't that old..."
"Try telling that to my back," he joked, already setting to work washing the carrots and tomatoes Haru had brought.
Smiling fondly, Haru retrieved Sakura-San's cutting board, noticing Futaba fiddling her hands awkwardly as she watched her father pull out the cleaned vegetables.
"First Mate Futaba," Haru said, "Why don't you put some wind in our sails and wash the dishes there for us?"
A grin sliding onto her face, Futaba nodded with an eager "Yes, Ma'am!"
"Hm." Sakura-San hummed out an amused laugh as he lingered at the entrance door to Le Blanc. "Never thought I'd ever say this to you again, but...lock up before you go to bed, would you?"
"Right. Of course." Amamiya-San nodded, a tint of unease about him.
Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, Sakura-San added, "And would you two make sure Futaba comes home before it gets too late? She'll listen to you two, at least."
Ren nodded again, and Haru assured, "Certainly, Sir."
Haru gave Sakura-San her most subtly insistent smile as his expression wryly smirked her way. Knowing that his kids were in good hands with her, he shoved his weathered hat onto his head, unhitched his umbrella, and headed outside. The soothing jangle of the door's chime was drizzled into the calming blend of rainfall, like a bit of cream mixed into a fresh cup of coffee as it was being poured.
Haru waited a moment, fiddling her fingers across the piping hot cup in her hands. She took a careful sniff of the cup's contents – seemed all right, but not optimal. She took a small sip, having waited for it to cool slightly, and confirmed her suspicions: sub-optimal coffee, but fair enough.
Haru delicately noted, "Mm...It has been some time since you've prepared this, hasn't it?"
With a half-sigh and a half-shrug, Ren scratched at the back of his scalp – shaggier than Haru had ever seen it.
"I, uh...-" He nodded saliently, sniffed, and gripped his own cup with nonchalance. "I tried to put a little love into it..."
Haru smirked, her cheeks tickled by how bashful Ren was about it. She could imagine him struggling to learn under Sakura-San's tutelage, breaking out his flamboyant mannerisms as Sakura-San likely rolled his eyes with a tired sigh.
"I could tell," Haru said wistfully, folding her fingers together against the edge of the counter. Sitting side by side at the bar, they were conveniently avoiding direct eye contact, but Haru picked up the distinct sensation that Ren preferred this at the moment. Giving the moment another couple seconds to breathe, Haru initiated the conversation she'd meant to. "So. Amamiya-San. How have-"
"-ME ONNNNN!"
Futaba's shrill complaining shook the building from upstairs. A meowing laugh belted out afterward.
Ren sighed at the disruption, but Haru tried to ease his irritation.
"Those two have certainly missed each other, haven't they?"
"Mm." Ren nodded tiredly, rubbing dust from one eye before adjusting his glasses back into place.
Haru mused, "I suppose driving each other mad will always be their dynamic..."
Ren nodded again, having taken off his glasses to wipe them with his sleeve.
Haru took another sip of her coffee, pondering how to proceed.
"Futaba-San has been-...Well, she is trying to-...Oh, you must have already read the messages I sent you, haven't you?"
Ren expelled air slowly through his nose, putting his glasses back on with a hum of confirmation.
"After that...feather-ruffling incident she experienced with Makoto-San, it has been slightly-...Ah, well, I suppose I...shouldn't go on about everyone else, hm?" She sated her lips with another drink of coffee before setting it on its saucer and giving Ren an intent sideways glance. "Please. I'd like to hear what you and Morgana-Chan have been getting up to."
Ren flicked out one wrist, scooping his cup up with the other.
"Nothing much," he bluntly replied, swallowing a gulp of his drink. "Juggling part-time jobs...Just me and Morgana now."
"O-Oh?" Haru tapped her nail thoughtfully against the side of her porcelain cup. "What of your roommate? The, um...-?" Haru was having trouble recalling even their name. Ren had barely been telling her anything about the new roommate.
"Didn't work out," Ren blurted callously, sighing into his cup as he dove in for another sup.
"Ah." Resting her cheek into her wrist with a pondering concern, Haru observed, "It...would seem you've had a bit of trouble finding a compatible roommate."
Lifting one shoulder up with disinterest, Ren cited, "Morgana's enough of a hassle as it is. Besides. Hardly home, so...-"
"Oh? A social butterfly, are you? I suppose that's to be expected, given-"
"Too busy."
Oh, dear. Ren had cut her off, dissolving her optimism with a cold, clouded phrase of indifference.
Agape with a tinge of pain at his rudeness, she stared, waiting for a follow-up statement.
He slurped more coffee and another sigh swept through the cavernous cup, emptier by the moment.
"Busy?" Haru prodded, starting to feel determined to push back against this unspoken yet decidedly evident resistance. "What has been keeping you busy?"
Haru noticed a micro-expression in reaction to this – the way his brows furrowed, the way his nose wrinkled. It was quick, brief, then hidden back away. She didn't like it.
"Mostly just cleaning up messes and making coffee runs lately."
Haru was intrigued and confused when Ren offered this vague answer.
"Mm?" She took a delicate sip of her drink, her eyes locked onto his worn-looking profile. "What kind of work is that?"
Ren shrugged dismissively, taking off his glasses. They'd gotten clouded up from drinking his coffee, and he attempted to de-fog them with the edge of his sleeve as he responded.
"I work at a TV studio," he said, with all of the enthusiasm of a sewage disposal employee.
Haru was a bit surprised. Why would he working such a high profile kind of job, but be so pessimistically inclined about it? Why wasn't he showing it off and bragging about it like one would expect?
"W-Wow, your work on a television show? Which one?" Haru was still processing the news.
Ren shook his head direly.
"We produce a kid's show," he cited vaguely with a grumble, shoving his glasses back onto his face.
"Oh?" Haru was even further intrigued, if slightly concerned from Ren's body language.
She expected him to go on, but…he did not. She held back her inquiries for the sake of Ren's evidently sour mood.
"Um," she attempted to salvage the mood, "I'm sure that's been an edifying experience for you, at least. Perhaps an avenue to open some doors of opportunity?"
She courteously drank a small gulp, but noticed that Ren had stopped consuming his. His elbow sat on the countertop as his forehead sank into its corresponding palm.
"Not exactly," he sighed quietly.
Haru took a beat of this despondent, distant silence to contemplate a course of action. It was suddenly no wonder why she'd been having so much difficulty trying to stay in touch with her friend – why he hadn't been responding, why he'd been avoiding everyone.
The pair finished off their coffees in relative quiet, as Haru could tell that was all Ren seemed to want at the moment. She tried to work out what they could do to fill the rest of their evening out, in a manner that could-
- rrrrnnn, rrrrnnn! -
The countertop shuddered from the vibration of Ren's phone, and he tilted it over to glance at it. Upon seeing the notification, his expression remained as stoic as ever, but his shoulders tightened up and his posture shifted as he whipped out a quick reply.
Against her usually more reserved judgment, Haru prodded, "Who's that?"
"Mm," Ren vaguely replied, so fixated on his typing that he couldn't seem to multitask. Haru drummed her fingers on the edge of her now empty cup for a couple seconds until Ren specified, "Uh, it's Ryuji. Sounds like he caught a break tonight, ended shift early. We're gonna go grab a bite out at that place he likes."
"Oh." Haru was simultaneously deflated at how seemingly uneventful their time together had been, but also relieved and excited to know her friend was going to get to spend a heart-to-heart with his closest ally amongst the team. He was always reserved about it when confronted, but Haru could tell that deep down, Ryuji was the one he seemed to enjoy spending time with the most. It made her wonder, then, in a way she hadn't before, if perhaps…-
"BRO. Hey bro, bro, BRO."
Futaba-chan's squeals rippled through the café as she flew down the stairs, skipping one step with each stride and nearly slamming into the wall when she reached the bottom. Ren was already slipping his jacket on as Mona-chan hopped down the stairs behind Futaba. Haru began tidying up the materials left behind from their coffee break, unsure as to how to react to what she knew was about to unfold.
"Wh-? Hey, where ya goin'?" Futaba cried out, heading for the door.
"Spur of the moment meeting with Ryuji," Ren replied as neutrally as he could.
"Aww, what?"
"At this hour?" Morgana balked. "You sure you aren't gonna pass out on the way home?"
"I'll be fine," sighed Ren, clearly a bit irate.
Haru set the dish-washing sink on a low stream and went about rinsing off their coffee cups and saucers.
"I thought we were gonna get to play some Train of Life 3," whimpered Futaba, pouting a bit with her arms crossed.
Turning off the sink and reaching for a rag, Haru defended, "We can always do that tomorrow, imouto-chan. Ryuji's schedule is…unpredictable, so…-"
"Wh-…?" Futaba puffed hot air, obviously struggling to contain her disappointment.
Glancing over her shoulder as she dried off the dishes, Haru saw Ren-san shrug and draw up the hood on his jacket, tucking his phone away.
"Can't we all go together?" Futaba threw out, seemingly surprised no one else had said so – and evidently not quite reading the situation very well, as expected.
"Uh," Morgana was quick to intervene, "It's been a long time since those two have had any peace and quiet to themselves, ya know? Maybe we should-"
"We made plans together," Futaba dismissed, her frustration fizzling, like a fuse being lit. "Why didn't Ryuji make plans, if he wanted to see you?"
"He doesn't have control over his work schedule right now," Ren pointedly explained, his patience wearing thin.
Haru stepped in, having dried her hands.
"Futaba-chan, I'll play with you. We always have tomorrow to-"
"Thanks, but that's bullshit, I've been waiting months to-"
- ding-ling, ling… -
Amamiya-san had left without so much as an explanation or a good-bye.
"Hey!" Futaba made to sprint off after him, but Haru managed to grab her by the shoulder and halt her advance. "What the-?!"
"Just let him go, Futaba, he's…-" Haru corrected her tone, softening it from the uncomfortably hard edge it had taken. "You know how close he is with Ryuji-san,
"What about how close he is with me? Or you? We're the ones who made plans with him, I don't get how he can just…-"
Morgana startled the two women by brushing by their legs as he hopped onto a stool, then onto the counter.
"He was going to leave no matter what we said," Morgana pointed out with a strangely bleak tone. A wary sigh spilled from the cat's mouth as he shook his head bitterly. "If it makes you feel any better, he almost ditched me when he came to visit here today…"
"Oh, no," Haru gasped despondently, giving Mona-chan a scratch behind the ears. He purred with some relief, as if this was the first time he'd been given such attention in ages. "I admit," Haru added in, "Amamiya-san hasn't been quite as friendly as I recall. I tried to catch him up on things this week to prepare for his visit, and I received nothing in reply." She finished Morgana's little head-pat session with a thoughtful sigh.
Futaba was mulling this over, tapping her thumb on her chin and her boot toe on the wooden floor. She voiced her own thoughts.
"Mm, he's been totally dodging my texts, too, come to think. I mean, our leader's always been, ya know, a little rough and tumble, but it sounds like he hasn't been himself lately."
"He hasn't," Morgana groaned quietly with a sulk. "He left me outside last week! Was binge-watching some sports cartoon and passed out on the couch! I was stuck scratching at the door and trying to get his attention for like half an hour."
"What the hell, Mona?" Futaba growled. "If he's been mis-treating you, why didn't you say something sooner?"
"How was I supposed to do that?" Mona snapped with curt defense, licking a paw and cleaning the space on his head Haru had just scratched. He held out said paw incredulously, citing, "I'm not exactly built for using a phone."
"You-…! You could've…-!" Futaba's cheeks were brimming with flustered pink hues. Haru clamped her hand down delicately on the woman's shoulder.
"We're just concerned," Haru explained.
Futaba's tension loosened. Latching one hand up and over Haru's wrist, she puffed out, "Chyeah, that-…He should know better."
"Honestly," Mona lamented, "I've been trying to hold out until this trip because I…-" His sharp, feline eyes darted from Futaba to Haru, then off to the empty tables in a dulled, glazed over gaze. "I couldn't tell you why, exactly, but I think…-" A quick exhalation through slit nostrils. "I think our old leader might have developed a Palace."
Haru felt her stomach crawl and her eyes widen, and Futaba breathed out a long, drawling sigh as if to say, 'Yep, wouldn't surprise me.'
"Oh, my," Haru murmured, aghast at the thought. When she thought of Palaces, she always thought of, well, people in positions of power and influence. She thought of her late father, with so much responsibility upon his shoulders, ultimately crumbling beneath it.
But Haru realized in that stark moment that her dear friend had indeed gotten used to being in a position of power and influence, of great responsibility. To all of Tokyo – or perhaps even all of Japan - Ren Amamiya's face had been shrouded behind anonymity and a mask, but he had been the leader of the Phantom Thieves, a group whose activities had reshaped the socio-economic climate of an entire nation, or at least been the spark that led to that flame.
Despite all of the good they had brought about – and despite how well off the majority of ex-Thieves were doing – Ren himself seemed rather displeased now that the dust had all more than settled over a few years.
"But how can we even verify if he has a Palace?" Futaba wondered.
At this thought, Haru hesitated for a moment of contemplation before pulling out her phone.
"And say he does," Futaba went on. "What are we supposed to do? We haven't had access to that meta-whatsit app in a super long time…"
As this was spoken, Haru was staring at the icon of the application in question: the MetaNav.
"Not to mention," put in Mona, "you might be pretty, erh, out of practice when it comes to dealing with the Metaverse…"
"I mean…-" Futaba huffed, crossing her arms as she threw herself into the booth the group had used to occupy. "He's been kind of a jerk these days, but a full on Palace? Really?" She shoved her beanie hat back a bit as she clawed at an itch in her scalp.
"It…is a bit difficult to believe," murmured Haru despondently.
"Look," Mona blurted defensively, "I'm the one who's been living with the guy, I'm the one who came from the Metaverse, and I'm pretty sure I'd have a better sixth sense than any of you about this."
Haru exchanged solemn glances with Mona-chan, and his nose wrinkled at her inquisitively.
"Hey, wait," he mumbled, brows furrowed. "What's…-? Something's off with you."
"Whoa, rude!" Futaba starkly shouted, jabbing a finger out at Mona as Haru took a nervous seat across from her. "You don't just go saying stuff like that out of the blue to a lady, especially one as-"
"It's all right, Imouto-chan."
"Huh?" Futaba was lost for a moment, shooting a sideways stare at Mona that dissolved a moment later. "Frick, sorry, Mona, I'm…-" Morgana hopped up on Futaba's lap, eliciting a brief sound of surprise, then pounced up on the table, walking over to Haru, who tried to subtly hide her phone face-down in her own lap. "Gah," Futaba groaned, "I'm just finding it really hard to believe that a guy like Ren Amamiya, the guy who led the charge for the Phantom Thieves to liberate Tokyo, would have grown a Palace."
Haru's phone buzzed in her hands, sending a shiver up her spine as her heartbeat skipped.
[ "Candidate found." ]
Haru could feel her jaws clench, her eyes quiver, and her stomach lurch.
Her phone – the MetaNav app – had just blurted the phrase out.
Futaba's expression wavered between confusion and irritation, while Morgana swept across the table and into Haru's lap, poking his nose around places it didn't belong.
"H-Hey, excuse you…-!" Haru's hands were shaking a bit too much, and Mona's eagerness knocked the phone out of her grip.
"Excuse me?!" Mona growled, flipping the phone over in the booth with his nose.
"Mona!" Futaba squawked. "What the heck, dude?!"
Haru didn't even attempt to get the phone back. She was a terrible liar, and didn't want to lie, merely conceal the truth. Though at this point, perhaps that wasn't the best approach.
After all, Haru Okumura, much like her friends, still wore her own mask, just as well as the rest of them.
"How long have you had this?" Morgana demanded. "Why do you have this?"
"I…-"
"Have what?" Futaba asked. "Was that the thing? The meta-app thing? You have it? I don't have it.." She strained to look over the table before laying sideways on the booth to scope a look. Haru tucked her legs together, frazzled by all of this activity and focus around her lap.
Haru could feel her cheeks lighting up like stoplights, and pressed a trembling palm against half of her face as Mona sniffed at the phone.
"Haru," he pressed, huffing hot hair through his nose at her phone. He stared up at her direly. "Have you been going to the Metaverse?"
"Erh, I…-" Haru's other palm found its way up against her other cheek. "I have, yes. It…-"
"Whaaat?!" Futaba squealed, bumping her head against the table when she tried to sit back up. "Agh, damnit, ow-ow…"
Morgana tilted his head at the phone with a sour expression.
"I'm…kinda surprised you out of all of us would be getting up to that, especially on your own, but…-"
"O-Oh, it hasn't…been on my own, but…-"
Futaba, nursing her head, managed to spit out another, "Whaaat?! Seriously?"
"Who…-?" Morgana cut him short, shaking his head. "Nevermind, that can wait. More importantly, did your MetaNav just confirm what I think it confirmed?"
"Hey, whoa, nuh-uh," interjected Futaba, "It's way more important that you've been getting up to…whatever you've been getting up to, and didn't tell me!"
That sting of pain and disappointment – of distrust – on Futaba-chan's face was particularly painful for Haru, given how long she'd dreaded seeing it, knowing it was of her own making.
"This is more important than your ego, Oracle. Don't you get it? Our once fearless leader does have a Palace."
Haru let out a deep, discontent sigh.
"Wait, huh? Did I miss something?" Futaba grumbled, arms crossed. Her expression lay somewhere inbetween concern and a pout.
"Think back on what you said," advised Morgana. "You said his name…"
"Ren Amamiya," Haru murmured drearily.
The phone replied, [ "Candidate found." ]
"And then…-?"
"Uh, somethin' about…saving? Leading?"
Haru confirmed, "Tokyo?"
[ "Candidate found." ]
She quickly tried to shut her phone off, uneasy about the idea of accidentally sending them somewhere they were not prepared to be. She was already starting to feel her insides twist at the idea of having to face Amamiya-San's Shadow, his Treasure, and all that came with that. But she was also afraid of dealing with her secrets coming to light – and not just her visits to the Metaverse, but who she was taking them with, and the context around that.
"See? The app is reacting to his name, and to the location."
"Ohhhhh, yea," Futaba gasped. "That old system with the keywords, right?"
"Exactly," said Mona. "The MetaNav just confirmed what I was trying to tell you: Joker has a Palace."
"So," lamented Haru. "We'll have to do something about it. But we can't go about this like we used to. We'll have to be more…delicate with this, I think."
"Mm…" Morgana nodded pensively.
Futaba was staring Haru through, still embittered, but perhaps starting to piece the surrounding details together. She sucked in a deep breath with squinted eyes, stamped down one of her boots, and snarled aimlessly.
Mona and Haru sat in silence as Futaba ripped off her hat and whipped it into the booth cushion beside her.
"This sucks!" she put it simply.
"It-…It will be all right, Futaba-chan, I'll-…we'll figure something out."