Third Semester – Ragamuffin (at LeBlanc)

"So… you guys head down into the subway to stop criminals when you get a request on this 'Phan-Site' thing… but you're not bounty hunters."

Futaba rolled her eyes and groaned. "No, Sojiro! I told you, we're not killers!"

Sojiro shrugged. "Hey, not every job is fatal." His brow furrowed, his face settling into a father's stern, uncompromising glare. "And you said you keep away from the fighting?"

"Ye~es!" was her reply, whined with such force that she nearly fell off of her stool. Recovering and throwing herself onto the counter with a pout, she added, "My Persona is a non-combat type, and even flies out of range of most enemies. I'm like… an AWACS, kinda?"

"An AWACS."

"Uh-huh! Mapping the area, giving info on the enemy, that kinda stuff." She fished her phone out of her pocket and opened up the gallery displaying the Thieves' exploits in combat, their dashing about Palaces, and more than a few selfies with her Persona. "See? I'm camera, keeping an eye on things."

Sojiro watched the slideshow in silence before finally saying, "Sure are a lot of pictures of Ren in here."

She snatched the phone back in a flash, blushing bright red and hugging it to her chest as if it held mind-shattering knowledge. "W-Well, yeah!" she said, so quickly that her words bled together. "He's our leader and the strongest and if anything happens to him-"

"Alright, easy," Sojiro said, waving her off with a laugh. "Well, you're all coming home safe, so something's going right, besides those outfits." He looked to the only other patron at the counter. "So these Personas: that's where you come in?"

He was talking to Lavenza, the third odd girl in blue Ren had brought to the cafe by Sojiro's count, this one wanting to see his bedroom. Thankfully she wasn't half as much of a brat as the other two, though she seemed more than eager to put Ren through his paces going by the ruckus coming from upstairs. A short while ago, just after the dinner "rush" ended, she'd returned to the dining room asking for curry.

Having been silently listening to their conversation while she polished off her second plate, Lavenza nodded as she wiped the remains of her meal from her pale face. "That's partly correct. I can create or recall Personas on request, but exclusively for our Guest here." Pausing to send a forlorn look at her empty plate, she called into the kitchen, "Speaking of, may I have another helping?"

The apron-clad Ren, on kitchen duty, nodded and took her plate, loaded it up with rice, then proceeded to scrape whatever was left in the curry cauldron onto it. Handing it back to her with his own practiced business smile, he said, "That's the last of it. Enjoy."

Too eager to offer more than a nod of thanks, Lavenza proceeded to dig into her meal.

"Geez… I think I just lost the #1 LeBlanc Fan spot." Futaba said, watching with amazement and, perhaps, a bit of disgust as the other girl all but inhaled her food, pausing only to hum in delight. Straightening up and thrusting her hand into the air, she announced, "Sojiro! Another plate for me!"

Sojiro waved her off. "Hey, he just said it's gone. You'll have to wait 'til dinner."

That sent her right back into her slump. "Fi~ine… worth a shot."

Shaking his head in agitation, he looked to Ren with a small grin. "Well, the little one's got good taste at least. No idea how she got roped up with you, though."

Ren looked up from the sink where he'd left the pot to soak with a grin of his own. "You taught me more than cooking."

"Oho!" Sojiro put a hand to his chin in faux-astonishment. "Careful; you don't wanna start 'stealing hearts' the way I used to."

"He is correct, Trickster," Lavenza said, cutting off Ren's comeback. She stared at him over her plate, her curry-covered face doing nothing to dampen the threatening gleam in her eyes. "Such a road is fraught with danger the likes of which you've never known."

All too used to such looks, Ren simply shrugged. "But you've got my back, right?"

Instead of answering right away, Lavenza busied herself with wiping her mouth, then shared a look with Futaba before saying, "Well. Though it pains me, I cannot protect you from the consequences of your own actions." That gleam returned in force as her eyes again met Ren's. "I will, however, watch with rapt interest."

Ren opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then nodded and returned to the dishes. "Stick to killing shadows and gods. Got it."

She watched him work with a hum of approval. "A quick learner as ever, Trickster."

Sojiro and Futaba watched the two with equal amusement, the latter barely keeping her laughter in check. "Points to Ryuji; she's definitely the boss."

"That's how it is with little sisters," Sojiro said with a low chuckle. "Tell 'em what they want to hear or there'll be hell to pay."

"A sister?" Lavenza asked, looking to Sojiro in shock. She considered Ren for a second, then smiled to herself. "Well, I certainly wouldn't mind, though my actual brother might get jealous."

Futaba shot up with an elated gasp and stars in her eyes. Leaning in just a bit too close, she asked Lavenza, "There are more of you!?"

"Yes," she said, scooting back a bit in her seat. "There are presently four of us, one brother and three sisters, of which I am the youngest."

Ren took her already-cleared plate and tossed it in the sink. "You did mention sisters a while back," he said. He took a second to wipe his fogged glasses off and consider his next words before asking, "Are they all… small, like you?"

"Hardly. Most of them are around your height, actually."

"Yeah?"

Like he'd done dozens of times before, Ren dried and replaced the dishes, took off and hung his apron, then proceeded to pour himself a cup of coffee, specifically using the lopsided royal blue mug the twins had made for him. He'd personally never call it anything like a 'Victory Cup', but it did its job in the Metaverse, and he'd swear it made drinks taste better, even LeBlanc's near-perfect coffee. Only after his first sip did he collapse into a snicker-fit of his own, threatening to spill his drink all over the countertop with all his shaking. Soon enough, Futaba joined in with her own impish giggling.

Lavenza looked between them, confused. "What? What's so funny?"

After taking another long, slow sip of coffee, Ren recovered enough to say, "No wonder they pick on you."

She blinked several times at that, growing visibly more perturbed every second. "Wh-"

"It's like when we pick on Mona," Futaba chimed in, trying to pare back her toothy grin to something more reassuring. Lavenza snapped around to face her, delivering the full brunt of her annoyed pout, and she faltered. Unable to meet the smaller girl's eyes, she looked to her dad. "The runt always gets the worst of it, right? Sojiro, back me up!"

"Huh?" Dragged out of his thoughts so suddenly, it took him a second to catch up. When he finally did he scrambled for a way to change the subject, settling on the '#5 Inmate' written on Ren's mug in gold paint. "Oh! Hey, what about those twins? You're not their big sister?"

Lavenza let out a rather unladylike grunt at that. "They're… well, that's not so simple."

"They're triplets," Ren offered, raising his cup to Futaba's thumbs-up. "Lavenza's the oldest by a few minutes."

Sojiro watched their exchange with naked skepticism. "But there're four siblings in total." His two wards visibly deflated and refused to meet his gaze. "Is it that complicated?"

"How long do you have?" Ren asked.

"Really?" His eyebrows shot up before he checked the clock. "Not long enough. You three head on upstairs; I'll handle the cleanup. We can pick this back up later."

"Very well." Lavenza hopped down from her stool and bowed her head to Sojiro. "Thank you very much for the meal, God-Slayer."

Sojiro's brow furrowed at that, and he started to say something before settling for a simple nod. "No worries."

After returning the nod, she turned to Ren. "Trickster, when we return to your room I have a rather pressing question for you."

"Alright." Mug in hand, Ren got up and headed for the stairs. "Futaba, you coming?"

Futaba nodded and leapt from her chair, following closely behind the pair. Raising her voice over the patter of three sets of feet, she said, "Right behind you. I hear tell you think you've beaten one of my old conquests."

"What's that?"

"My Star Forneus score, duh!" she said as they stepped into Ren's room. By the time Ren had switched on the space heater, Futaba had already booted up the old console and taken up its controller, then perched on the couch. "I heard Lavenza up here backseat gaming, and I'd know that special end theme anywhere; you beat my score, and I won't have it!"

"Just barely." Ren, after angling the screen to better face the couch, took a seat next to her. "Alright, lemme see the master at work."

"As you wish, m'boy." She listened to the game's title theme for a second or two, humming along and swaying to the melody, before abruptly turning to Lavenza. "Oh, and you can go ahead and ask whatever you want. Just forget I'm here!"

"Thank you, Futaba," Lavenza said with a smile, "but it's nothing so dire… I hope." She turned to Ren, not meeting his eyes, but staring at his frizzy mop of hair. "My question, Trickster, is whether you own a comb."

The game went silent at the press of a button, and both turned to regard the small girl with wide-eyed surprise. No one spoke for some time, and the room was quickly suffused with the same anticipatory tension as in the railways of the Metaverse. Lavenza felt it too, subtly adjusting her stance and hardening her gaze into a silent challenge.

It was only then that Ren realized that she hadn't moved from just in front of the stairwell; even if he could step over her with ease, her position removed that option entirely, and with it his best means of escape. Just as well; going by her earlier display at the workbench she still had some of her powers in this dreamlike reality. Stopping him would be a simple matter. With practiced ease, he steeled himself and indulged in his habit of toying with one of his locks. "I mean… I wash it, at least."

Lavenza sighed and shook her head. "So it is as I feared. Trickster, may I have that stool behind you?"

The tensity in her stance hadn't lessened, he noticed. He still had a choice to make. In this case, though, the 'right' choice was to do as he was told, and so he stood and grabbed the stool from the workbench before setting it down in front of the TV. "All yours."

"Thank you." Still tense, even seated, she pointed to the floor just in front of her. "Take a seat, please."

He took his time emptying his cup, and for just a moment more he considered making a break for it now that the stairwell was free. He'd reach it in just a few strides, and even throwing himself down the stairs and hoping for the best was preferable to whatever she had in store. Still, Lavenza could heal whatever injuries he'd sustain and drag him upstairs like a sack of potatoes. Once again, the 'right' answer was to simply do as he was told.

Ren set his mug and glasses down at the workbench and sat down, never betraying his discomfort even as Lavenza draped her legs over his shoulders and ushered his head to all but lay in her lap. From there she sunk her fingers into the mess coming out of his head, massaging his scalp from the whorl outwards. At least, where the whorl ought to have been; it had long-since been buried.

Futaba watched them with a thousand-watt grin, committing the scene to memory before returning to her game. "See, you think you're hot stuff for taking the top spot-"

"By maybe a hundred points," Ren said, bristling as small fingers pressed into his skull. Glancing up at Lavenza, he asked, "Can you ease up?"

Lavenza pulled her hands back as if they'd been burned. "Oh! I'm sorry, I thought I was." She tilted her head to the side, then a teasing smile came to her face. "Are you tender-headed, Trickster?"

He could only grumble in response.

"Anyway," Futaba continued, her impish smile twisting into something flat-out devilish, "I betcha didn't know about Merciless Mode!" Her fingers became a blur, and even the music was nearly drowned out by the cacophony of clicking plastic. After three whole seconds of this, the screen flashed red and unleashed a bloodcurdling chiptune wail.

"Oh my…" Lavenza said in hushed awe.

"Right!? And that's just the opening!" At the push of a button, the character select menu appeared. "Notice anything?"

Being a game about defending Earth from alien invaders, the normal character select screen was set in a hangar with a collection of jets, bombers, and attack choppers all lined up for the player's choosing, each done up with a few retro sci-fi trappings. After Futaba's stunt, that had been replaced with a dank, mossy cavern dripping with slime and littered with human remains. In place of the man-made fighters sat a collection of monstrous figures, each winged and eager to wreak havoc from their place beneath two spots of unnatural light.

Ren let out a low whistle and leaned in for a better look, though only for a second before being dragged back into place. "So you play as the bosses in this mode?"

"Bingo!" She gestured at the screen with a flourish. "Would our dear guest care to do the honors?"

"I'd be happy to." Lavenza herself leaned in a bit, resting on Ren's head while she scanned each of the roster in turn: Fleurety, the goblin general and boss of the first stage; Marchosias, lupine commander of thirty legions and the boss of the second and longest stage; the traitorous, serpentine advisor, Samael(go figure), the third stage boss; The leopard-sphinx, prince of Hell, and boss of the fourth stage, Sytry; finally, the fifth boss and master of black magic, Leonard the Baphomet. "Let's see… do you have a suggestion, Trickster?"

"That depends-" he said, stopping short as he noticed Lavenza pulling an opulent, wide-toothed comb from her dress pocket. Forcing that to the back of his mind with a hard blink, he asked Futaba, "Are they all watered down?"

Against all odds her smile only grew. "That's the best part! They're exactly the same as in the game, even all that broken junk they throw out in the last phases!"

"Really?" That left Ren with a wolfish grin of his own, and a dark chuckle slipped through his teeth.

Lavenza might've joined in, if not for what sat below her. The massage was to help her get a feel for the shape of his skull, to stimulate its oil production, and deal with the least of the mess early on. With that done it would've been a simple thing to pluck out the more severe tangles, smooth out the rest, and maybe give what remained a personal touch here and there. She wasn't the Velvet Room's best hairdresser for no reason, after all.

Only now did she realize her hubris. Owing to her and the twins' height, they'd just barely glimpsed the true extent of the catastrophe atop Ren's head; what they'd each assumed was little more than a mussed mop was more like a maelstrom from above. Chaotic black waves ran over one another without reason, swelling, crashing, and parting all at once in a wild dance around the eye of the storm. The eye itself, his whorl, barely visible through it all, stared back at her and her tool with little more than amusement, daring her to continue her dark work.

She leaned back in her seat and sighed, staring into the dark wood of the attic ceiling and wondering if she'd bitten off more than she could handle. That thought was banished from her mind almost instantly; no self-respecting Attendant would ignore a challenge, and it would be a dark day when she'd be cowed by a head of hair. With newfound determination, she struck.

"So… Lavenza's AFK," Futaba said, breaking the seconds-long silence. "All yours, Ren! Uh… you okay?"

Sweat was beading up on Ren's forehead, and every scalp-tugging swipe of the comb saw him bite back a hiss of discomfort or even a flat-out expletive. They came from every angle and at random, and his reflexive attempts to move away were rewarded with an iron choke hold that only let up once he'd stopped resisting. To anyone with eyes he was very much not okay. Still, he bit back his complaint; she didn't deserve to hear that.

"I'm very much here, Futaba," said Lavenza, picking away as she spoke. She took a glance at the screen, then said, "That one in the back, please. With those fearsome glowing eyes."

Futaba bared her teeth in an approving sneer. "Excellent choice, 'venza. You pass." Without looking at the screen, she sent a few inputs that saw the darkness looming in background surge forward to swallow up the roster and blacken the screen. Then, two gleaming, golden eyes stared out at them above a too-wide, too-toothy cheshire grin. Only after all of that did the screen fade into a proper loading screen.

"Huh," Ren said. After pausing to suffer through the comb's teeth raking against his skull, he continued, "It's like the game-over screen."

"I know! I was trying for a 'Dark Lord Rising'-type feel." Finally the screen lit up once more, this time depicting the familiar sigh of rolling idyllic hills bleeding into a crater-pocked mess. She adjusted her footing on the couch and returned her attention to the TV, bracing herself for a long play session, then abruptly turned her annoyed face to Ren. "Alright, spit it out! Why're you looking at me like that?"

He just waved her off, flashing a smile before it could turn into a grimace. "Just wondering when you modded this copy."

"Pfft!" She rolled her eyes and went back to the game. "Since before you got here. The game's ancient; I just had to add some stuff from my PC while you were at school."

This time he did frown at her in earnest. "Didn't we talk about you messing around up here when I'm gone?"

"Yup."

Ren sighed in exasperation, already dreading having to open up another hour in his cluttered nightly routine to sweep the room for bugs and stray Futaba-hair. It occurred to him then that Lavenza's being here would mean double the cleanup work, forcing another sigh out of him.

...and then he spotted the dusting of cat hair drifting down to the floor. How long had that been up there!?

Lavenza herself wasn't having the best time either. Brushing aside all that extra hair helped to expose the whorl, yes, but out of habit she'd smoothed out the result as a finishing touch. That small gesture had somehow exposed a fresh swell of rolling, roiling tangles that spread outward over Ren's head from hairline to nape. All in all, her work hadn't just been undone; she'd been left far worse off than when she started.

Her Trickster remained a problem child, after all. Even his hair was a cheeky, taunting thing, and it was beginning to work her nerves.

Rather than risk hurting him, Lavenza instead joined the others in watching the game, enjoying the scene of the great Marquis of Hell, Forneus, creeping onscreen, his crowned head and the edge of his ashen manta wings taking up a solid tenth of the small screen. Right on cue a squadron of attack choppers and fighter jets emerged from the top of the screen in a wide V-formation, loosing a wave of colorful bullets just as soon as they arrived.

"It's much too big to dodge any attacks, I see," Lavenza said. Her hands moved on autopilot, one feeling out knots and tangles and the other hot on its heel to remove them. "How are you meant to defeat this game?"

"Tsk, tsk, Lavena," Futaba said, shaking her head in exaggerated disappointment. "Tell me, what's the best defense?"

Unbothered by the wall of bullets, a single button press saw Forneus spew a geyser of black miasma from his maw, cutting through both the assault and a solid third of the opening fleet with comical ease. A second press had his crown glowing just before his own barrage of lasers shot down whoever remained.

Lavenza found herself tapping her heels against Ren's chest in her excitement. "An overwhelming offense! But there are still so many…" Sure enough, the first wave was replaced near-immediately, this one with every bit of the numbers and aggression as its predecessor, and was accompanied by extra mobs swooping in from either flank.

Futaba only nodded, click-clacking away. "That's why it's Merciless. Something like the final boss would sweep the whole game in something like half an hour; I had to increase the enemy count just to keep from getting bored."

"So they attack by the dozens and without end for the sake of the challenge." She thought on this for a moment, briefly tapping her comb against the palm of her hand, then asked with unsubtle eagerness, "Does it have more attacks?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Snickering, she input the classic quarter-circle-forward punch. Instead of a Hadoken, however, Forneus loosed a familiar looking, multicolored sphere of energy just in time to deal the first blow to the stage's midboss, a flying aircraft carrier, as it crept into view. The bullet erupted on impact, loosing a shockwave that left all onscreen enemies moving at a snail's pace and, more importantly, wide open for the twin streams of hellfire that lanced across the screen at a quarter-circle-back command.

"Psiodyne!"

"And Eigaon," Ren said at last. While the girls were talking, he'd picked up on Lavenza's rhythm: feel out a knot, pick it to pieces, smooth out the result, move on. From the whorl to his hairline, slowly making her way around his scalp in a clockwise pattern. She'd eased up a bit, too, no longer threatening to scalp him with every stroke of her comb but settling for a series of firm tugs that still would've had a lesser man bawling.

His mother was heavy-handed too.

Back to the now, that rhythm being so slow and meticulous made it ideal to try and meditate his way out of this. It was worth a shot at least; if he could focus through Morgana's rambling or amidst the ghastly wails in Mementos, it'd be effortless in this this situation. He shut his eyes, took a deep, centering breath, and got to work putting any and all distractions from his mind.

With a second breath the room fell away, leaving him alone in a black void…

A third had the girls' chatter fade, then vanish…

With another deep breath, he'd just begun to realize that tenuous peace, and a sort of ethereal warmth blossomed out from his stomach. Now he only had to wait.

"This is ridiculous; now there's two of them!" Lavenza said, too caught up to notice how her Guest's posture sagged or how his breath slowed. "And that first one took so long to destroy; is this truly a fair challenge?"

"Of course!" Futaba said, merely rolling her shoulders in response to the reinforcements. Her thumbs never stopped, feeding entire combo strings to the game even as she spoke. "If you're gonna play as the final boss you gotta pay for it!"

"Yes, I can understand that." Again, Lavenza looked down at Ren and allowed herself a proud smirk. At last, the storm was beginning to settle; this would be over in due time if she could maintain this pace. Back to Futaba she said, "But surely there's a better mode of challenge than raw numbers or durability."

"Ooh!" She flinched at a near-miss before increasing her pace, sending lighting and fire shrieking into the seemingly endless swarm of targets with seasoned efficiency. "I know that. I switched up the spawns and formations, didn't I?"

"I was referring to the boss characters. The airships are akin to the mid-stage encounters, correct? Is it truly a worthy challenge to simply whittle away at the opponent until they succumb?"

"You sound just like Ryuji," Futaba said with a small snicker. "He's always like, 'C'mon! When's the next part!?'. True experts know the beauty of the flow state, when you can weave through the enemies' moves and just hammer 'em while you're at it!" Right on cue, both midbosses went up in a dramatic detonation, one crashing into the other and sending them both plummeting to earth, all without Forneus taking a single hit. "That, my little Lavenza, is mastery."

"Amazing…!" Lavenza watched Futaba's skillful display with wide, awestruck eyes. "I certainly can't argue with the results. Though I must ask: what are your thoughts on foes with multiple phases?" Speaking of multiple phases, she'd about finished with the back of Ren's head; time to work the front, and from there the sides. Only as she moved his head up to face her did she notice the trance he was in. "Ah. It seems my Trickster is… you said 'AFK', correct?"

She spared a quick glance at Ren. "He wha'? Oh yeah, his meditation thing. He's fine, just plug his nose when you need him. Back to phases, that's for high-end bosses only, like Shido or the kind of secret boss that you get to fight at the tail end of the game after a super-long sidequest."

Lavenza didn't answer right away, being preoccupied with brushing Ren's bangs back. The hairs just underneath were finer and softer than those up top, and the line itself was shaped into a subtle widow's peak. She frowned as she swapped her comb for one with a finer set of teeth, silently praying that it was genetic and not due to stress. Resuming her work with quick, light strokes, she asked, "So multi-phase bosses are to be reserved for properly climactic occasions?"

"Exactly! Not too many, though, or you just get sick of it. I promise, no gimmicks can save a boring grind from itself."

"Uh-! R-Really?" she asked around an unsubtle cough.

Oblivious, Futaba continued with a nod, "Yep. Look, Shido was final boss material for sure, but he was a pain, cause each phase was just," she flexed her petite arms and adopted an appropriately guttural 'tough guy' voice, "'Now you face my true power!' over and over! Like putting down a muscly cockroach."

"That roach had a mean hook, though," Ren said, flexing his jaw at the memory. Really, he was only able to center himself for seconds at a time; it turned out that he didn't quite have what it took to meditate while enduring torture, at least not yet. He looked up at Lavenza and asked, "How'm I doing?"

"Wonderfully," Lavenza said, patting his cheek affectionately. "We're nearly finished."

Quick feet ran up the stairwell, and then Ann's frowning face popped up over the railing. "Quit talking about roaches up here! We can hear you in the dining room!"

"Sorry you had to hear that, Lady Lavenza," the likewise frowning Morgana said, pushing his head out from under one of Ann's pigtails. "Ren gets like this when I'm not around to reign him in."

Lavenza sent him an appreciative smile. "Thank you, Morgana, but I'm quite used to our Trickster's antics by now. More importantly, is that a new collar I see?"

"Oh!" Morgana dour mood vanished in an instant, and he leapt onto the banister with a proud smirk and his head held high. Around his neck was a brand new, hot-pink cat collar tastefully studded with just enough black rhinestones and finished with a silver tag bearing a stylized 'M'. Striking a flattering pose on his perch he said, "You like? It's all thanks to Lady Ann's expert fashion sense, of course."

Ann finished climbing the stairs and went to Ren, already fishing in her pocket for his change. "It wasn't that easy. I had to-" She stopped just in front of him and blinked in surprise, then asked through a giggle, "You have a widow's peak, Ren?"

"My dad does," Ren said, pocketing the money.

"Okay… well, I was trying for something that matched all of his colors, y'know? Something warm too, so it wouldn't just fade into his fur."

"I'da gone with green," Futaba said, never looking away from her game. "Like, a light green, but still. Good looks, Mona."

Ann nodded. "I actually thought about a green headscarf just to match his eyes, but he wasn't in the mood."

"The deal was for a collar," Ren said. With a sly grin to Morgana he added, "You look great, Morgana. Nice shade of red."

Morgana simply rolled his eyes, then crossed the room and settled in Futaba's lap in two quick leaps. "You too. Glad I could be here for your yearly grooming session."

"The completion of the session, in fact," said the beaming Lavenza, bringing her hands together in satisfaction. She replaced her comb with an equally-opulent hand mirror and offered it to Ren. "Please, tell me precisely what you think! Don't hold back!"

Wasting no time, Ren all but leapt to his feet, taking the mirror even as he hurried to stand by his desk. Content in the distance between them he rolled the kinks out of his neck, donned his glasses, and surveyed the damage.

Truth be told, he didn't look all that different. Yes, when she'd started he'd had a near-catastrophe on his head, one combining all the worst parts of weeks of built-up bedhead and unkempt frizz, but his height made it hard to tell unless one paid close attention. After Lavenza's efforts, that same attentiveness would reveal that the unkempt mop was in actuality a very well-combed 'do that merely looked like an unkempt mop.

Ren ran a hand through his hair, marveling at how, for the first time in years, his fingers slid right through without getting tangled or bringing a few hairs along for the ride. And since when had his hair been so fluffy!?

Watching him with a smug smile, Lavenza hopped down from her seat to stretched her stiff legs and flex her hands. "I trust you're pleased with the results, Trickster?"

"He's not the only one," Ann said, throwing herself onto the couch with a sigh. Likewise admiring Ren's new look, she said, "You know, I keep asking Ren out to a salon, but he always turns me down. How'd you do it?" Her eyes went wide, and she looked to Lavenza in shock and horror. "Did you cast a spell!? Marin Karin? Brain Jack!?" She regarded the small girl for a second more, then added, "Evil Touch, maybe?"

"Nothing so sinister, I assure you. I simply had to reduce his options, which was accomplished by blocking the only exit."

She nodded with reverence, as if digesting the words of a well-traveled sage. "You make it sound so easy. I guess that's why you're in charge."

"But of course." Still riding the high of victory, Lavenza went about returning the stool to the bench with a spring in her step and something like a flourish. Resuming her seat, she took a pen and pad from the desk and scooted around to face Ren. "Now, Trickster, while I'm happy to do you a favor, I expect this to become a long-lasting habit. To that end, I'd like to discuss a few simple adjustments to your routine to facilitate such a habit. Have a seat, please." He'd barely settled on the bed before she put pen to paper, her hand flying across the page. "Firstly, it's not only your hair up there, so I'd recommend a brushing for yourself and Morgana first thing each morning…"

The game sat paused, and the three on the couch stared at them in varying states of amusement. Morgana leaned into Futaba's petting and asked, "He can't catch a break, can he?"

"I don't know," Ann said, "they make having a little sister look kinda fun. I'd kill to have someone do my hair for a change." She watched for a bit more, with Lavenza fully absorbed in giving her lecture and Ren likewise absorbed in receiving it, then nudged Morgana. "Hey, how do I get in there? I wanna ask."

Futaba unpaused the game and said through a snicker, "If you want a haircut that bad, you better let me. I've been here all night just waiting for that rip!" Onscreen, the music faded into a triumphant fanfare as the final boss, the White House converted into a bipedal mech wielding the Washington Monument as a spear, stepped onto the screen, its every step rattling each pixel of Forneus' sprite. "I see you, Mr. President! Come get some!"

"Aw, seriously?" Her face fell in disappointment, and she took another look at Lavenza. She'd joined him on the bed and was holding a fan of combs in her hands, going over the pros and cons of each. That was one thing, but Ann couldn't help but notice that despite her lousy posture and her long locks spilled over the covers, there wasn't a tangle or knot in sight. Aiming her best set of puppy-dog eyes at Morgana, she asked, "Mona, help me out! Make me an opening, please?"

It worked a bit too well, leaving him blushing beneath his fur and stammering through no less than three false starts before finally managing to say, "I-I don't think you need the help, Lady Ann. You always look perfect to me."

"You're sweet, Mona, but look at her! And look what she did for Ren; she's some kind of miracle worker, I just know it!"

"'Miracle worker'?" Ren asked.

Ann shrieked and whirled around to face the tall boy suddenly looming over her. Like Morgana before her, she was left scrambling for words before finally saying, "No, no, you look good, really! Better, even, with the posture, and your new jacket; your hair was the final touch, is all!" For a bit more, she muttered excuses, only relaxing when she spotted the good humor in Ren's eyes.

"I'm glad you think so highly of me," Lavenza said from Ren's side, likewise trying to hide her mirth, albeit with less success. Around the smallest smirk she said, "It was no miracle, but it was quite an ordeal. That in mind, I'm afraid it's time to take my leave. Morgana, would you join us? I have some advice for you as well."

"Alrighty!" Futaba said, scooping up Morgana as she got up from the couch. "I have reestablished my dominance, and so too must retire to my den to rest and feed. For the little lady," she added, handing Morgana over to Lavenza with a slightly exaggerated bow.

"What dominance?" Ren asked. A look at the screen told him that, indeed, she'd beaten his high score twice over. However, "You beat a different game; doesn't count." Without missing a beat he started down the stairs with Lavenza and Morgana right behind him.

Futaba was hot on their heels, hardly slowing down enough to grab her boots. She half-stumbled around Lavenza and used the rare height advantage to say directly in Ren's ear, "Don't tell me our great leader's a sore loser."

"No, you just beat a different game," he said again as he reached the landing. "Let me mod a score multiplier into Star Forneus and it'll be the same thing."

"Wait, that was Star Forneus? Really?" Ann asked from the top of the stairwell, having stayed behind to shut off the electronics. "It looked like some fan-made remake to me."

"Exactly." He stepped into the dining room and, with a nod to Sojiro, said, "Sojiro, I'm gonna take Lavenza home."

Sojiro, already in his hat and jacket, returned the nod. "Right, I was just heading out myself. That one," he nodded to the seething Futaba, "looks like she needs some dinner. Speaking of, shoes on in the dining room."

Futaba stepped into her boots with a groan, sliding into the second with a hard stomp of indignation. "I need justice, Sojiro! I need recognition! And curry!"

"Who's the sore loser here?" Morgana asked.

Lavenza put a hand on his head and mashed his face into her shoulder. "Let's not aggravate her further, Morgana."

Sojiro sighed and shook his head. "Of course you understand him too. But yeah, that's her stomach talking. Futaba, let's get some food in you and see if you feel better. Ren, you know how to treat the place." He tipped his hat to the group and turned to leave, saying, "Oh, and that's a good look for you two."

Futaba hurried after him, pouting and grumbling all the while. "Yeah, later, guys. And Ren!" She whirled around and thrust a harsh finger at her leader. "I'll send you the code for Merciless Mode, so you better practice! We have to settle this before you go home!"

Ren nodded and waved them goodbye. "Got it. See ya." The Sakuras stepped out into the chilly winter night, prompting Ren to grab his coat off the rack. "I gotta lock up, Ann. I'll cover your ticket if you want to come with us."

Ann's face lit up with a smile. "Thanks. Hey, Lavenza, can I pick your brain about some hair-care tips on the way? I just have to know your secrets."

"That's right, you're an aspiring model." Lavenza helped Morgana into Ren's bag, then whipped around to face Ann with a furrowed brow and eyes burning with harsh judgment. "You would enlist the aid of one who rules over power to further your earthly ambitions?"

There was a pressure coming off of the smaller girl, an oppressive, disapproving energy that reminded Ann of those few times her mother would scold her for acting out. Just like back then, she was at a loss for words and finding herself sweating under her clothes. Thankfully, she wasn't a child, and managed to stammer out, "Uh, y-yes? Please?"

And then the pressure vanished and Lavenza was all smiles, the fiery judgment in her eyes replaced with glittering mischief even as she looked over Ann's own 'do. "I approve. Please ask me whatever you like, though I'm not sure what more I could teach you."

Freshly shaken by that brief emotional rollercoaster, Ann settled for a nod. "...O-okay… thank you?"

"Let's get going, then," Ren said, opening the door and again letting the frigid night air in. Huddled together, they stepped out into that cold night, their chatter on the wind.