"What is she wearing?"
The whispers in Sumire's classroom provoked the discomfort Makoto had been trying so hard to quash, even if they meant it in a different way.
It wasn't that big a deal to wear the same clothes two days in a row. They hadn't gotten that dirty.
It was one nice thing about the Metaverse... the exertion seemed to keep itself to her phantom thief outfit. Two nice things: It was always clean by the next time she needed it.
Apparently her spirit of rebellion also involved magical dry cleaning.
Makoto tried to tell herself it was just her hyper focus, her overthinking, that was causing her clothes to itch, not anything unclean about them. After school, while Dad and Sis were still at work, she'd finally be able to raid her own bedroom for shirts, tights, intimates...
Still... she couldn't help but feel dirty.
"-Yoshizawa, do you know the answer?"
Makoto looked up at the board. She hadn't been paying attention, but fortunately this was only first-year math. "X over two."
"That's right." Ms. Sano wrote the answer on the board.
"I didn't think she'd get that."
"Wow I guess she finds time to study."
Why were her fellow students so fixated on every question? It wasn't like they were going to remember who answered what even a few hours from now.
The rest of the morning's classes were a blur. She didn't get called on again, which gave her more time to reflect on her observations before school. Makoto had spent most of her efforts just trying to avoid attracting further suspicion from Mr. and Mrs. Yoshizawa. It hadn't afforded her much time to learn anything new that could help understand Sumire or Dr. Maruki.
The hardest part had been skipping practice. She just couldn't bring herself to wear Sumire's workout clothes. Between avoiding practice and trying to stave off the mountain of food that Mrs. Yoshizawa called breakfast, she feigned a small stomach ache and promised to go to the nurse's office once at school.
As lunchtime had finally arrived, Makoto planned to fulfill that promise... just not as Mrs. Yoshizawa had imagined.
She left the first-year classroom only to find Ryuji, Ann, and Haru loitering in the hall.
"Aww, you're not wearin' the modern uniform," Ryuji had his hands stuffed in his pockets.
"I told you she wouldn't," Ann just shook her head.
"It was worth a try," Haru put on an exaggerated pout.
"Sumire's wearin' the old style," said Ryuji, as if it then must logically follow that Makoto would be wearing the new one. "It fits good."
Ann elbowed Ryuji. "Not now..."
Makoto's eyes narrowed. So they were all here to gawk at her.
They had seemed so much more supportive in the group chat, the one left over from December that they started using again because it didn't have Sumire or Akechi.
"C'mon Makoto, don't be like that," Ryuji took his hands out of his pockets. "Wouldn't you be curious?"
"I wouldn't." Makoto's scowl deepened.
"Even if it was Ren?" he pressed. "In the old cut jacket?"
Makoto's faced softened for just a moment as she contemplated it.
"See!" Ryuji could probably be heard by the whole floor.
Makoto scrunched her lips. She hated that he was right.
"Sooo..." Ann's eyes were open wide, her pupils moving in an arc. "Lunch?"
"Ren and I are meeting in the nurse's office to talk about-" There was no need to make it explicit in public. "What Morgana and I gathered overnight."
"Just that?" Ryuji grinned. It was clear what he meant.
"Y-yes!" Makoto felt the heat in her face betraying her. "Y-you're all welcome to join of course."
"Oh my," Haru giggled into her hand.
"Not like that," Makoto frowned.
"Then let's go," Ann tapped her foot impatiently. "It's better than the cafeteria or staying in the classroom."
The group headed over to the practice building.
"How come we haven't done this more often?" said Ryuji as held the door to the nurse's office open.
"Because we were trying to keep a low profile," Ann said, her tone indicating it was obvious.
"I wouldn't want Futaba or Yusuke to feel left out either," said Makoto.
"Yusuke'd only feel left out of the food," Ryuji groaned.
"Hey." Ren got up from the love seat. So he was already there. He looked across their teammates and then back at her. His lips parted ever so slightly and his eyes seemed to droop.
Was he disappointed?
In her flustered haste, Makoto had invited everyone without letting him know. She'd feel disappointed too. In fact, thinking of all that could have been, she was disappointed.
They'd make time after school though. Surely. Right now, they had to get to the bottom of things.
"There's a table behind those privacy screens," Ren seemed to have caught on quickly. "We just need to find enough chairs."
After borrowing a few folding chairs from elsewhere in the practice building, the team sat down for lunch. Ren and Makoto were on one side. Ann and Ryuji were on the other. Haru sat at one end of the table with Morgana perched on the corner nearest her.
Makoto recounted her observations of Sumire's home, minimizing the actions of Mr. and Mrs. Yoshizawa. It seemed wrong to paint them poorly when they were just reacting to her strange behavior. The team already had the gist of the circumstances that caused her to spend the night anyway.
"I was with her when she got the purple dress," Ren elaborated on the set-aside outfit that Makoto and Morgana had noticed in Sumire's closet. "She was trying to develop her personal style."
"Did she say why she liked it?" asked Ann.
"Um..." Ren scratched at the back of his neck while he looked away. "I may have complimented it..."
"Please don't tell me Akechi was right," Haru was smiling so hard that her bottom eyelids twitched.
"She picked it out herself though," Ren raised his hands in front of him. "I don't know why. It seemed like it just spoke to her so she tried it on."
Haru sighed, her whole right eye began to twitch. She muttered. "While she was wearing it even?"
Ann forced out a fake laugh over Haru's complaint. "Anyway... did she try on any others?"
"She was wearing animal prints when I walked in," Ren scooted his chair towards Makoto's and away from Haru's. "The sales clerk had hyped her up on it."
"Wait, was this at Lovely Melody?" Ann leaned over the table. When Ren nodded, she continued. "I think I know what outfit you're talking about. They've been pushing it hard. It's hideous."
"Hmmm," Morgana's tail waved back and forth. "It sounds like Sumire may be easily susceptible to suggestion."
"Ain't that obvious?" Ryuji leaned back in his chair.
"I didn't hear you stating it before," Morgana raised his chin and wiggled his shoulders.
"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Makoto turned to Ren. It was best to cut the two of them off before they got started. However, she needed to remain cognizant of Sumire's privacy too. "About that outing I mean."
"Hmmm," Ren looked down at his meal. A few seconds later he raised his head. "She struggled picking things out. She said something about being bad at making decisions on her own—that Kasumi made the decisions for her."
"That explains the matching bedrooms," said Morgana.
"I wonder if that explains her Metaverse gear too," said Ann. "She doesn't have her own sense of style, so she follows someone else's."
What Ann said made a lot of sense. They were lucky to have a fashion expert on their team.
"So Ann, are you finally admitting your costume is your style?" Ryuji grinned.
"What?! No!" Ann whipped her head to face her classmate, twin-tails flying to catch up. Her face was getting red. "Th-that's different!"
Makoto felt herself blushing as well. She looked down and away as she spoke. "We don't completely understand how our phantom thief outfits come to be."
Would it be okay to admit she felt powerful in hers? And lately, attractive, what with the way Ren spoke of it? The way he ran his fingers along the-
Anyway.
She didn't want anyone to think she was perverted or weird.
Haru coughed daintily into her hand. "So other than that dress and some cookbooks and luck charms, what has she picked on her own?"
Ren was once again glancing down at the table. Ryuji looked over at him and opened his mouth, but backed off when Ann leaned towards him with a glare.
The team was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time.
"Does she need more than that?" Makoto wondered. "Isn't it fine if she likes many of the same things her sister did?"
"But did she?" Haru brought a finger to her cheek and tilted her head. "Or was she just going along with it?"
"Oh, you mean like how Makoto never wants to pick where to go out to eat," said Ryuji.
"Th-that's just because the rest of you have such strong opinions," Makoto crossed her arms.
Whenever it came up, she just didn't feel one way or the other about the places they typically went. Going out to eat was rare in her family. It was expensive after all and she could cook just fine. Exploring new places with Ren was nice, but she rather not risk a poor choice with the entire team.
Was that just going along with it?
"Why don't we just go back to the Wilton buffet?" Ann sighed dreamily as she leaned over the table and rested her face in her hand. "We have the money, don't we?"
"Because last time you two ate so much you got sick," Morgana looked at Ryuji and Ann.
"Only Ryuji got sick," Ann's eyes were still gazing upward, as if she was looking into the version in her own imagination. "It wasn't that bad."
Ryuji's face and hunched posture seemed to indicate otherwise.
Haru stifled a giggle.
"Yeah... Let's make Makoto decide next," said Ryuji, sitting up straighter, at least for him. He turned to her. "Where should we go after the Palace tonight?"
"Le-"
"No Leblanc!" Ryuji cut her off. "That's cheatin'."
Makoto exhaled her annoyance. What did she want?
Dad's miso soup.
If only.
She could suggest a fancy traditional place—that might at least make up for it not being Dad's—but spending that much, even if they had the money, didn't seem right. Ryuji and Ann liked Big Bang Burger and there was definitely one in Odaiba but there was always a risk being recognized going with Haru. What else was there near the Palace? Anything remotely healthy?
It didn't help that she just wasn't feeling very hungry.
She looked over at Ren. He was avoiding her gaze.
"See." Ryuji folded his arms and leaned back, resting his ankle on his opposite thigh.
"Uh, maybe we can figure this out after going to the Palace," said Ann, looking at Makoto hesitantly.
Was her unease really that apparent?
Makoto breathed in. It was time to put the conversation back on track. "Not choosing is also a choice, isn't it? Not finding something important is a preference too."
"But how do we know if it is just that or something else with Sumire?" asked Haru.
"Yeah," Ryuji added. "What if she don't even like gymnastics?"
"Surely she likes gymnastics," said Morgana. "That's like her whole life."
"But does she really have a choice?" Haru frowned, her eyes shifting away from the group momentarily before returning. "She has to do it for her student status."
"And for her sister..." Makoto's words were barely above a whisper.
"What do you think Ren?" Ann put her hands on the sides of her seat and leaned in.
"I think she likes gymnastics," he looked down, the overhead lights reflecting off his lenses. "I don't know if that's just what I want to believe."
"If she likes it, she must like it an awful lot to put up with the teachers here," Ryuji ran a hand through his hair and let out a huff. Ann looked over at him. She reached out her hand and ran it down his upper arm.
"Maybe that's our angle then," Morgana got up on all four of his paws. "Ask her about gymnastics. See what she says. Maybe, like the rest of us, she'll snap out of it."
"It's worth a try," said Ren. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"This time try it outside Maruki's Palace," said Morgana. "His influence might be less strong."
"Right." Ren looked up.
"Then that's settled," said Morgana. He grinned as he looked across the untouched bentos out on the table. "So who's going to share their lunch with me?"
––––– ––––– –––––
"Wait a moment," Ren leaned over by Makoto's ear, speaking softly as the team was filtering out of the nurse's office.
Makoto stopped walking and waited until the door closed behind their friends. Then, she turned to face him. Morgana was poking out of Ren's bag behind him, also looking at her. "What is it?"
"Sumire invited me over for dinner," he said, watching her carefully.
Like a flock of startled birds from a bush, all the reasons why Makoto didn't like this idea burst from her mind, each loudly vying for attention. Was he planning on going? What if he succumbed to the actualization? Would he break Sis from it? Why did everyone get to have Dad's dinner but her?
"...Makoto?" he was still watching her.
"Oh." She re-focused her eyes. At some point she had stopped really seeing him. "Are you going to go?"
"I wanted to ask you first," he re-adjusted the bag on his shoulder, Morgana jostling about. "I think it would be helpful for our investigation, but if you're not comfortable..."
She brought her hand to her lips and started mulling it over... at least as much as she could with all her jumbled thoughts interrupting. His motives made sense, but there were so many risks. Would there be a way to do it safely?
"I think that's a No." Ren said after she didn't respond for a few seconds. He closed the distance between them, turning so he could put his arm around her back. "Don't force yourself."
"You're right I don't want you to," Makoto lowered her hand and turned to him. "But I'm worried... what if this dinner is our only chance to find out what we need to fix all of this?"
"If it's something we can find out, I don't think this dinner is the only way," Ren began guiding her to the couch. They sat down.
"What if it's the only way we can come up with before... before things get really bad?" she looked up at him. The world was changing so fast.
Ren looked away, his eyes hidden beneath his hair and glasses. He pressed his lips together, like he was thinking.
A third voice spoke next. Morgana. "I could go with him and make sure nothing happens."
Ren stiffened. "Then who's going to back up Makoto?"
"Maybe I can avoid going to Sumire's house until after you're done with dinner," said Makoto. Even if she had Morgana with her, she rather avoid that place as long as she could.
"What if they make you come back?" Ren turned to her. "Like last time."
"Maybe they'd let me invite Haru or Ann over," Makoto's eyes didn't quite reach his. "They might be more approving of them since they weren't around yesterday."
"Or less approving because they know nothing about them." It seemed Ren was as confident in her suggestion as she was.
"What if I do something Sumire-like? Maybe they'll let me stay out late if I go to the gym." Once she picked up some clothes after school, it wouldn't be a problem. "You know where that is right? They'll probably 'recognize' me even without a membership card. Do you think Sumire's coach will be there after hours?"
"I'm not sure," Ren shook his head. "But if you run into Hiraguchi, it would be almost as dangerous as going to Sumire's house."
"Will it?" Makoto looked directly at him. "You made it sound like she's used to Sumire's identity troubles."
His eyes seemed to focus somewhere else, like he was considering it.
"And I don't know much about gymnastics," she added. "I can't imagine believing I can do it."
Did Dr. Maruki think that because both of she and Sumire did sports, they could just pick up each other's activities? Sumire competed nationally and while Makoto wasn't at that level in Aikido, she had won tournaments locally.
"But if you did, the risk of injury is really high." He placed a hand over hers. "What if that's how he resolves things?"
"I don't think so." This time Makoto was shaking her head. "Doesn't he want to end suffering?"
"Yeah," Morgana backed her up. "He'd be more likely to redirect her, like with that art student. This time, his power might work to Makoto's advantage."
Ren looked down, his other hand tapping on his thigh. A few moments later, he seemed to have a solution. "What if Ryuji goes with you? They'll probably let him in as a guest like they did with me and he'd probably appreciate the fancy equipment they have there."
Perking up, Morgana added, "Oh! And if Sumire's parents see him, maybe they'll be less worried about Ren."
Morgana really couldn't resist taking a swipe at his rival even when he wasn't around. Ren seemed to be choosing not to react, though his free hand balled into a fist on his leg.
He had a point though. Mr. Yoshizawa didn't seem like the type to approve of a boy with bleached hair, bad grades, and an even longer history of trouble.
"Then it's settled," Ren turned to Makoto. "Text me if you and Ryuji run into any problems. We'll find somewhere to meet up."
"Got it," Makoto made a pert nod.
"I'll work things out with Ryuji," he added. "And get Futaba to spoof a message to Mr. Yoshizawa telling him your plans."
––––– ––––– –––––
The next area of Dr. Maruki's Palace was much different than the ones before it. The team had snuck through lecture halls, warehouses, and all manners of laboratories, ambushing shadows as they needed to. Here, in the Psychological Exam Area, they moved freely.
The decor was inviting, more like the first area of the Palace. There were plush couches, indoor plants, and artwork that resembled Rorschach tests in calligraphy ink over gold leaf.
One even looked like a panda holding sparklers in front of a rocket.
The shadows acted more like cognitions, similar to the dealers in Sis's Palace. Rather than attacking them on sight, they invited the team to take a series of tests to determine their treatment needs. Cognitions filled the space, participating in the same assessment.
The tests were presented as scenarios, each with multiple answers. Depending one which answer was chosen, a different elevator would take them to the next floor. To hasten their journey and avoid whatever Dr. Maruki's idea of treatment was it seemed best to give the answers the Palace owner desired.
The first question asked them to choose between directly helping a friend who was being attacked or running to get an authority at the risk of possibly being too late. Speaking to the cognitions, Dr. Maruki's preference became clear. Neither answer could guarantee the friend's safety, but the second answer could protect the individual from possible harm. Dr. Maruki wanted to minimize suffering.
The second question wasn't as straightforward.
"This one," Ren led the team into a gray alcove and pulled the lever.
Give up on your dream.
Makoto hesitated as she stepped over the gap onto the platform. Even if they were just choosing an answer to please Dr. Maruki, it felt distasteful.
There were always practicalities to consider, but completely giving up felt like giving up a part of one's self too. It felt especially threatening under the current circumstances.
Makoto glanced over at Sumire.
If competing globally in gymnastics was her dream, perhaps their plan to remind her of it would work.
Yoshizawa Kasumi and Sumire had the same dream, but how did Dr. Maruki reconcile conflicting dreams?
Why were some granted and some altered?
Ren pulled the lever. The platform rose.
A pre-recorded announcement came from above. "No abnormalities detected in query response. Please proceed to the next room."
They had made the "right" choice.
Sumire crossed her arms, shifting her weight to favor one leg. "So Dr. Maruki thinks people should give up on their dream."
Akechi corrected her. "More accurately, he thinks people shouldn't cause themselves pain in their pursuit of their dreams."
"Hmmm..." Makoto looked down, resting her chin on one hand. "This is consistent with the first question, and yet..."
She took a moment to put it to words.
"Dr. Maruki hasn't given up on his dream, has he?" Makoto finished. "And he's suffered for it."
Visions of him getting drunk at a restaurant after he lost support for his research came to mind.
"Yeah an' now he's stealin' everyone's dreams," Ryuji hunched his shoulders forward. "That ain't fair."
"As much as it pains me to agree with Skull," Akechi held a hand to his own chest. "He has a point."
Ryuji rolled his eyes.
"He has what he wants now though," said Ann as she started walking towards the door to the next test. Most of the team followed.
Makoto stayed on the platform, considering the situation a bit longer. Her voice was faint, only for herself. "Does he?"
––––– ––––– –––––
Static filled the screen of the old-time television as the latest tape came to an end.
This one featured Sumire, from a year ago, grieving her sister and ultimately becoming an unwitting participant in Dr. Maruki's experiment.
Before having her cognition overwritten, she had had the same doubts about gymnastics that the team had discussed at lunch.
Makoto had taken frequent glances at their new team member as the tape played... often finding the rest of the team doing the same. It didn't seem like the playback of her own life had meant anything to her, though she never looked away from the screen.
I'm sorry Sumire. I'm not so polite.
Sumire must have thought better of her, at least.
Just before the silence could get too awkward, Akechi took a few strides over to Makoto. His derisive grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. Reaching her, his hand landed hard on her shoulder, fingers carefully avoiding the spikes. "So that was the moment you became Kasumi, eh? Maruki had gotten much better at using his power."
It seemed between Akechi's distaste for Dr. Maruki's methods and his enjoyment of giving her grief, the latter won out.
Makoto shrugged his hand off of her and took a step away. She wasn't going to play this role. "Yes, it's strange how smoothly he was able to do it, given it was only his second time."
"Could there be others we don't know about?" asked Haru. "Was he practicing on other patients?"
Makoto shivered. If Dr. Maruki had also made lesser changes in a person's cognition, would anyone have be to tell?
"He certainly doesn't seem like the type to hold back if he thought he could do something," said Yusuke.
Did Dr. Maruki have that kind of precise control? The memories they had seen before seemed to suggest a rather blunt approach. Perhaps he couldn't make those kinds of smaller changes at the time.
"Why are you all so disturbed?" Akechi shrugged, both palms facing upwards. "You saw Maruki's answer to the last question in his 'psychological exam.' Isn't changing cognitions something you've been doing all year as well? Following what Isshiki Wakaba hypothesized?"
Futaba pressed her lips together tightly, causing her cheeks to swell. The bright green fingertips of her gloves were hidden as she balled her hands into fists.
The team had decided to invite Akechi to work with them so they could keep an eye on him. Left on his own, there was no telling what he would do. Given they still weren't sure of his status, there really was no telling how he might behave. There was a possibility he might murder Dr. Maruki, Shido Masayoshi, Ren, or even people they hadn't yet considered.
It was a decision made with great emotional sacrifice by both Futaba and Haru—a decision Akechi seemed to enjoy making all the more bitter.
"We steal the distortions from their shadows," Ren stepped in front of Futaba, his arm extending at an angle in front of her. "We don't dictate their cognitions."
"So the difference if you don't even know what the outcome of what you're doing will be?" Akechi tilted his head, his smirk showing through the gap in his helmet. "That's comforting."
"My mom recognized that these were cognitive distortions. Mona's confirmed it too," Futaba's arms were stretched down next to her hips. She craned her neck at him. "Don't mis-characterize my mom's research."
"And what are distortions?" Akechi crossed his arms. "Why is it okay to alter cognitions with them any more than what Maruki is doing?"
"We considered the options and made a choice with each and every one with stole," Ren's eyes were even and his voice was slow and soft in its deep timbre. "I believe in those decisions. If you're looking for a universal rule, I can't give you one. It's never that simple, nor should it be."
"And it was never Joker alone," Ann put her hands on her hips. "Dr. Maruki is just deciding things for himself."
Akechi's eyebrows raised. "Oh so-"
"Tch." Ryuji cut him off. "Do you wanna stop this bastard or not?"
"Fine, fine," Akechi smiled, his arms expanding into an even more exaggerated shrug. "I just want you to think carefully before you claim justice."
Haru stepped beside Makoto, gripping her axe with both hands. She whispered. "I could hit him. It might be okay. We don't know that it's really him and not some fake made up by Dr. Maruki."
Before Makoto could answer, Futaba chimed in. "Don't. He'd probably enjoy the attention."
Makoto wasn't quite sure when the smaller girl had gotten close enough to join their side conversation, but she nodded in agreement.
Ren's raised voice interrupted their digression. "Let's move on."
The team began filtering out of the room.
Sumire was still staring into the glow of the old television.
Perhaps she noticed Makoto or maybe it was just the increasingly distant sound of the team, but she turned.
"Are you okay?" Sumire asked. "It must have been difficult, re-living that memory, seeing yourself like that..."
"I'm okay." It was more strange seeing Sumire in a facsimile of her own phantom thief outfit, but Sumire had no way of knowing that. There was no use fighting. "Thank you for asking."
––––– ––––– –––––
"That's right sir, I scored top in my year on the last several exams," Ren stated it as a simple fact. He sat straighter than normal, just like he had been all evening. At first, Makoto thought he didn't like the chairs of their dining table set, but he was still doing it even now, after dinner, on the couch.
"That's remarkable," Father nodded in approval. "All that while helping my daughters take down a criminal conspiracy."
"Well sir, Makoto also got the top score," he closed his eyes and smiled. "I'm just following her example."
Makoto blushed. Somehow it was extra embarrassing in front of her father.
"Aren't you laying it on a bit thick?" Morgana whispered from his position next to Ren. "He's not even rea-"
Ren pressed down on Morgana's head, a heavy signal for the cat to hold back whatever he was going to say.
Makoto appreciated how hard Ren was trying. It had been a perfect evening. He arrived with a beautifully wrapped box of mikan. He complimented their home and father's cooking profusely. He somehow worked achievement after achievement into the conversation while remaining humble.
He was focusing so much on impressing her father, she was starting to feel a bit jealous.
Jealous?
No... She was Niijima Makoto. Of course she wouldn't get jealous...
It must be something else.
Still...
Makoto's eyes wandered to the door of her room.
It would be nice to have some time with Ren for herself.
A cough came from her father's direction. "Makoto, why don't you take our guest to your room? I need to help your sister with the kitchen."
Makoto's eyes lit up. She smiled broadly. "Yes Father!"
The three of them stood up—four, counting Morgana.
"But leave the door open," her father gave her a knowing look, and then one at Ren, before he started towards the kitchen.
"Don't mind him," she turned to Ren as she began leading the way.
"It's fine," Ren smiled. His gaze seemed to be somewhere distant.
Ren and Morgana followed her into her room. Makoto watched as they looked around, not hiding their curiosity.
Morgana took a lap around the room, his head moving side to side the entire way. Perhaps he was restless after sitting still for so long.
Ren was a bit more deliberate. He seemed to be reading the titles of the books on her shelves and thinking carefully about her desk setup. He continued to smile to himself the whole time.
"I didn't think you would be so interested in my room," Makoto let out a small laugh.
"Oh," he turned to her, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. I got carried away."
"It's okay," she smiled broadly. "I'll go grab some snacks. Snoop all you want."
Father and Sis were chatting while they handled the dishes, Father washing and Sis drying. It was a bit crowded in the kitchen, but Makoto had just enough space to prepare a tray.
"Go ahead and take the current pot," Sis tilted her head towards the teapot on the counter. "We'll start another."
"Thanks Sis," Makoto placed the teapot on her tray along with some packaged crackers and biscuits. She grabbed some more cups and then picked up the tray by its handles and headed back to her room.
As she approached, she heard Morgana speaking. He was just audible over the sounds of running water in the kitchen. "...and aren't you always saying he's not real?"
"Yes," Ren seemed defensive. "But if this is the closest I-"
"Don't fall for this reality."
"I'm not. I'm just-" Ren stopped himself just as Makoto started pushing the door open with her back, her hands occupied with the tray. He rushed over. "Let me get that for you."
He opened the door the rest of the way, allowing her to focus on setting down the snacks. Fortunately her table was mostly clean—just one stack of books, a box of tissues, and a panda plush. She shoved the latter aside to make room for the tray.
"Who were you talking about?" she asked as she rose, having completed her task.
Ren made an apologetic smile. "It's a secret."
Oh.
"It's okay. I understand." Ren was always helping people. Of course he would have to protect their trust. "Come. Let's sit down."
She reached out to him, taking one of his hands in hers to guide him. However, he pulled it back.
Her eyes went wide. She quickly forced her expression back to normal.
Before she could speak, he did. "I'm sorry S̷͚͍̍ų̸̇m̸̰͂i̵̮̎r̶͍̤̐̃è̴͚̚."
"I told you it's fine," she smiled brightly, hoping it would catch on. He looked genuinely sad.
"Not about that," he dipped his head briefly.
She tilted her head and squinted. "For what then?"
He cast his eyes further down, the skin around his them tightened. Then, he sighed, his face relaxing, though only partially. Looking back at her, he grimaced. "I suppose for how unfair everything has been to you."
"That's not your fault." She wasn't sure what exactly he was referring to at the moment, but in all cases it was true.
"I know," his somber tenor persisted. "And it's not yours either. I want you to remember that."
Was that true?
Certainly it must be, and yet... something felt off.
"Hmm..." Her eyes shifted towards the pure white rug.
When she didn't respond, Ren started pacing around the room, his hands resting behind his back. He stopped by her desk, looking up at her small collection of trophies.
"Impressive..." he uttered before turning his head towards her. "Did you enjoy competing?"
Competing?
Thinking back... she smiled to herself. "Yeah. Meets were always such big events, for all of us. You can't help but get excited. And... after all that practicing, you want to see how you can do."
"It must be disappointing when you lose after all that effort," he finished turning, his whole body facing her.
"Yeah, it can be really frustrating too," she clasped one hand over the other, holding them in front of her chest. Even though the individual competitions were hazy now, some of the hurt still remained. Her hands clenched more tightly. "So frustrating you just want to give up."
"So why didn't you?"
"I can't just give up because of a few set backs," she laughed, releasing her hands. Why was he asking her this? "Also, I didn't want to be left out of what my family was doing or fail to meet their expectations."
He took a few steps closer to her. His tone remained soft but serious. "So you would give up if they did too?"
Would she give up if...
Her eyes shifted away as she grappled with the idea.
"No..." She matched his mood.
"No?"
"No." She looked straight at him. "Because I want to be better at it, regardless of what they do and... I like it."
Ren smiled broadly. It was perhaps the first true smile he directed at her all evening.
"You must really like Aikido," he said a few moments later.
Aikido?
Right. Aikido.
For a moment, something felt incongruous, like she had been thinking about something else, something that didn't match, but what else could it be?
"Have you ever considered rhythmic gymnastics?" Ren asked it casually but his eyes felt intense.
"You mean like Sumire?" She supposed it was on his mind since he had gone to one of the other girl's practices recently. "Why?"
There was something weighty to his voice when he responded. "You like to move your body, so I thought it might suit you."
"Huh..." Gymnastics did involve a lot of motion. She thought about what it might be like to stretch her limbs like that, to leap and spin through the air... there was something enticing, as if her muscles were already enjoying the sensation. Not only that, but to feel the music through her every step and gesture, to express it in physicality and-
An image flashed through her mind. A girl who seemed familiar. A pain that struck like lightning through her chest. She let out a sharp gasp.
"Are you alright?"
Ren's question brought her back to the present.
"Oh, excuse me, I just..." What was that? She quickly shook her head as if that might clear her mind. Then, she gave Ren a reassuring smile. "I guess I got lost in thought there."
"Well, think on it some more," he didn't seem all that convinced but he didn't press either.
She nodded.
"I have something I need to discuss with Mr. Niijima before I head out. Is that okay?"
"Yeah." She needed some time to think anyway.
Ren walked past her, Morgana following at his heels. He stopped between her cracked-open door and its frame. Looking over his shoulder, he spoke. "Everyone is waiting for the real you, S̵͙͘ü̷͇m̷̙̑i̸̛̫r̸̜͒ȇ̷̠."