5/17 – Tuesday
Evening
Madarame's Palace
The "museum" hurt to look at. Its exterior was bright, radiant gold, with lavish decorations and an entire perimeter garden behind a tall fence. The Thieves currently huddled behind a parked delivery truck at the museum's front entrance, watching the mile-long queue of cognitive guests wait eagerly to be let in one by one by the Shadow guards.
"I found a path in through the garden," Mona hissed from atop the truck. "We can hop the fence from here and get to the roof."
Skull chuckled under his breath. "Kinda feeling like a real heist, huh? Breaking in through the roof, sneaking around a bunch of rare paintings and shit."
Ren returned a little smile. "Bet you a hundred yen there's nothing actually valuable inside."
"Dude," Skull scoffed. "I mean, if you want to be the easiest hundred I've ever made, be my guest."
The Thieves, in unison, stared up at the blurry mess of still-swirling paints covering the twenty-foot tall canvas in the Palace's main hall. A mess that uncannily resembled Yusuke. As they watched, a single hand-sized canvas extruded from the painting's surface, falling into a pile of similar paintings that had developed in front of it.
The title card beneath, etched in gold:
Magnum Opus Machine
Skull tapped Ren's arm, and handed him a hundred-yen coin.
"He thinks of Yusuke as some kind of...robot?" Panther wondered, disgust leaking into her voice.
"Like he made the guy," Skull added in a grumble.
Ren shook his head. "This isn't a magnum opus of a machine. This is a machine that makes magnum opuses." As if on cue, another painting slid out of the painted Yusuke and clattered into the pile.
"It might be both," Mona said. "You said he raised Yusuke and taught him how to paint; and now he's profiting off those paintings."
"Off a donation?" Panther asked.
Mona hesitated. "Maybe. I think..." He hummed a thought. "We need more information before we infiltrate for real. And more supplies." He started in place. "Oh, well, that's my advice, anyway. It's your call, Joker."
Oh! Right, he was the leader now, huh? "I...think retreating is a good call," he said.
"Regroup on the roof then?" Skull asked, already turning towards the way they'd came.
"Shujin's probably closed," Panther said. "I don't think we can meet up there today without getting into trouble."
"Well," Ren said, "there's always Leblanc."
5/17 – Tuesday
Evening
Leblanc
While the cafe was still populated with a couple of customers, Sojiro had warmly bustled the Thieves upstairs to Ren's attic room, filling their hands with drinks and snacks along the way. Ren somehow managed to bite back a few probably-unflattering comparisons to a mother hen.
"Man, this is the life," Ryuji said, taking another sip from his glass of iced soda. "I'm kinda jealous you get to live here, you've got a hell of a nice setup."
"I'm a lucky guy," Ren said. In more ways than one.
Ann reclined on the couch. "So, Madarame's got a Palace. We still don't know, like, why though."
"I don't really think we need to know," Morgana said. He sat on the table, in front of Ren, looking almost regal. "The fact that he has a Palace confirms his desires are warped. Whatever the reason, we should rob him of those desires."
"Hm." Ren ran a hand through his hair. It wasn't like he was against the infiltration, but...he still found his curiosity piqued. "I want to talk to Yusuke again before we go back to Madarame's Palace. See if I can convince him to answer some more questions about his teacher."
"When do you want us head back to the shack?" Ryuji asked. "I'll keep my schedule clear."
Ren shook his head. "I'll be all right on my own. But, thank you."
Ann squinted at him. "You're not just shrugging us off to feel better about yourself, are you? So you don't feel bad about inconveniencing us?"
Well, that was definitely a part of it. He shifted at her piercing gaze. "I..." He took a deep breath. No more self deprecation, not in front of them, not today. "I promise, I still want both of your help. But I think Yusuke will be more willing to open up, if it's just me." He forced a chuckle. "I'm still going to be keeping you both busy with preparations. I can't be everywhere at once, after all."
Ann nodded, seeming satisfied with Ren's answer. "Alright. I believe you, Ren." She sat back and took a long sip of her iced coffee. "So, what's the plan?"
Ren pulled his planner out of his bag and took a long look at the next few days. Therapy and a checkup, but otherwise his week looked pretty free. "Let's head into the Palace this Friday. I'm busy tomorrow, but I can talk to Yusuke on Thursday. That work for you both?"
"Shit, not like I've got anythin better to do," Ryuju said with a grin.
"Friday's perfect for me," Ann added. "I've got a shoot on Thursday, so I'll make sure to get all my prep done tomorrow."
Ren nodded, then stood up. He kicked off his shoes and crossed the room to his bed, climbing up on it so he could reach the stashed envelope. It felt weird doing so in front of Ann and Ryuji, but they already knew about the money after all. And, he trusted them. "I'll get medicine from Takemi," he said, starting to count out a few thousand yen stacks. "Ann, you wanna be on drink and snack duty again?"
She shrugged, an odd expression on her face that Ren couldn't parse. "I guess, sure."
"Catch," he said, and gently lobbed her around ten thousand held together by a rubber band. She yelped, almost knocking over her drink, but managed to catch the cash. "Morgana and I can make some infiltration tools in our spare time, too, but we'll need some materials."
Ryuji pointed at his own chest with a grin. "Hey, just write me a list and I'll buy whatever you need."
Ren laughed, and tossed him a similar stack. "I'll text you what we need tonight. Oh, and you can both keep whatever's left when you're done." He slipped a thick stack of bills, close to fifty thousand, in the secret pocket in his bag. Better to be safe than sorry – Takemi's medicine tended to be on the more expensive end. "Treat yourself, or whatever."
Ryuji didn't respond, staring down at the bundle with a dumbfounded look on his face. "Shit. I dunno how much I'll have left, but I'm gonna take my mom out for dinner."
Something in Ren's chest ached, and he forced a smile. "Sounds like a plan," he said. "And if either of you need a bit extra, just let me know." He waggled the envelope. "You know I'm good for it."
"I dunno." Ann shifted on the couch, seeming sort of torn. "It feels kinda...wrong just burning that cash on personal stuff."
"I agree with Lady Ann," Morgana said, shooting Ren a disapproving look. "That money is for the Phantom Thieves, to aid our infiltration. We should be careful about how we use it." He scratched his ear with one paw. "We don't want to get caught short and have to find funds other places."
Ren shrugged. They were right, but...he still felt like there wasn't much point in having this stupid gift if it couldn't help improve morale. Or just, like, make his friends feel goddamn happy. He stored the envelope back in its hiding space and hopped down off the bed. "Still. Shit happens and I don't want any of us suffering with problems we've just got the money to solve." He sat back down. "You guys are my friends. I don't want anything bad happening to you, not when I can stop it."
Ryuji grinned. "Hell yeah, same here."
Ann chuckled. "Alright, alright. I'll get myself a crepe or something."
"Get one for Shiho too," Ryuji added.
She rolled her eyes. "Duh."
And Ren laughed, and so did Ryuji, and Ann. Even Morgana chuckled, a sound that was almost like a purr from him. For maybe the first time since he'd started living with Sojiro, Ren felt at peace. As if everything was going to be okay.
"Seems like you've found some really good friends," Sojiro said to Ren after Ryuji and Ann had left. "Even if that blond kid kinda looks like a punk."
Ren laughed. "He kinda is one." He was about to turn and leave, but saw Sojiro out of the corner of his eye, motioning to a barstool. Ren quickly scooted over to the stool, sitting down at the bar. "What's up?"
Sojiro mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath, then cleared his throat. "Well...the cafe's empty right now." So it was. "And I'm used to working around people. So."
"Ah," Ren replied. "I'll keep you company then. And I'll get out of your hair when a customer arrives."
The man gave him an odd look, sort of stern but also...sad. "You don't have to leave. I'm not..." He let out a long sigh and leaned back against the coffee shelf. "I'm not ashamed of you, or anything, kid." Before Ren could respond, Sojiro continued: "It's not like I keep hiding you away for my sake."
Hiding him away? Like, sequestering him to the attic? Ren hadn't particularly thought of that behavior as odd; and for whatever reason, the realization of its mundanity sent a sickening knot into his stomach. "So...why do you?" he asked.
Rather than answer immediately, Sojiro walked over to a countertop coffee pot and flicked it on, warming the half-empty brew he'd made earlier. "You know, when I decided to take you in, your parole officer gave me this big long personality assessment." Sojiro's voice took on a melodramatic lilt, as if he was a newscaster reading a report on an escaped criminal. "Ren Amamiya: violent loner, kleptomaniac, prone to self destructive behavior, uh..." He trailed off. There was something else in that file he didn't feel comfortable addressing. Whatever it was, Ren's anxiety won out over his curiosity, he didn't press the matter. "But then you showed up. This scared, scraggly kid, following every instruction I gave him like he was terrified to screw up, jumping out of his own skin at loud noises and..." Sojiro laughed. There was something quiet and warm to the sound, something almost loving that made Ren's chest feel tight. "I don't know what you used to be like, Ren. Maybe you were just some violent thug looking for trouble, I don't know. But I don't see that in you now. And you deserve some peace, I think."
Ren found the words slipping off his tongue before he could stop them. "Do I?"
Sojiro looked over at him, and Ren saw a deep sadness in the man's eyes. "Yeah. You do, Ren." Another long sigh. "You do."
Silence fell in Leblanc, only the bubbling of the coffee pots, the buzzing of the electric lights and the scent of roasted ichor.
"Uh," Ren said. "Sojiro?"
Sojiro started. "Yeah kid?"
How to phrase this... "So, my friends."
"Yeah?" he prompted.
Ren rubbed the back of his neck. "We've been looking for, like, a hangout spot? Like, where we can just relax without having to be in public, or whatever."
He thought he saw Sojiro's eyes gleam with some odd emotion. "Uh huh?"
"We've been spending time on the school roof, but I don't want to get in trouble for being up there, and I was thinking since I have so much free space in the attic and everything, uh." Ren took a deep breath. "Could I possibly invite them over more often?"
Sojiro stared at him, some bizarre expression of almost-amusement on his face. Then, he laughed. "It's your room," he said. "Of course you can invite your friends over."
Ren blinked. "It's your cafe, though." He wasn't sure why he was protesting.
Sojiro shrugged. "Hey, as long as you guys respect the ground rules? I've got no issues." He gave Ren a genuine, warm smile. "No loud music, no stomping around, no yelling and no drugs or alcohol – obviously."
"Uh," Ren said. "Thank you. I really...I really appreciate it."
"Hey, don't force yourself," Sojiro said with a chuckle. "I get it. You're welcome kid. And, you know, have fun. You're only sixteen once, so try to enjoy it."
Ren nodded. He wasn't sure if being a secret vigilante was exactly 'fun,' but...being around Ryuji and Ann? Fighting by their side? He didn't find himself wanting anything else. "I will," he said.
5/18 – Wednesday
After School
Shujin Academy, Maruki's Office
Ren didn't particularly feel up for therapy. He'd woken up with an awful queasy feeling in his gut that had persisted through the entire day. If it were up to him, he'd probably just go straight home and sleep. But it wasn't up to him. Ann and Ryuji would be trying their best too, and he couldn't afford to let them down. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door to Maruki's office.
"Come in!" came the therapist's voice from inside.
Ren opened the door to see that Maruki, true to his earlier promise, had transformed the office into a fairly open and accommodating space. The boxes were gone, and both sofas had been moved closer to the center of the room. He'd hung a variety of posters on the wall, from medical diagrams espousing the healthy qualities of deep breathing to plain artistic patterns of swirling deep blues, blacks and greens.
Maruki, taking a long sip of a juice box, didn't have a chance to say anything before Ren sat down across from him. "Ah!"
Ren blinked at him. "Uh."
"Oh, sorry if I startled you." He put his drink down on the coffee table. "I just noticed you made some progress already. I didn't have to ask you to sit down, and you did." Maruki smiled wide. "That's a good step, Ren."
Ren nodded, feeling a surprising note of pride swell in his chest. "Well, I aim to please."
Maruki waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, there's nothing you have to prove here. I'm here for you, after all, not the other way around." He reached down and pulled a clipboard from beneath the table, handing it to Ren. "I would like you to fill this out, though."
Ren tried not to rush through the questions, a difficult prospect considering his own impatience and boredom, but it was still a bare five minutes before he handed the forms back to Maruki. The therapist took the forms, and scanned through them.
"So," Maruki said, and put the paperwork to the side. "Did you want to work on anything in particular today?"
Ren shrugged. "My memories, I guess. However you'd suggest to proceed with that."
Maruki nodded. "You wrote that you've been having trouble sleeping. Could we talk about that?"
Another shrug. He wasn't exactly sure what that had to do with remembering, but Ren wasn't the guy with a doctorate after all. "Just been feeling anxious the past few nights. Don't know why, it's not about anything in particular. And, kinda sick too? Like my insides are all gross." He laughed. "Weird way of putting it, I guess."
"Not at all," Maruki replied with a smile. "Is there anything in particular that set that off?"
Ren tried to think back. "I went to an art gallery with some friends. There was a big group of people, and I sort of panicked."
"And that panic didn't go away afterwards?"
Ren was about to agree, but something caught his tongue. No, that's right. It wasn't the panic that had lingered. It was that moment. "I..." he began. Careful. Tip-toeing around a chasm here. Inches from falling in. "That went away. After a little...bit. I met someone there, though. A new...friend. I guess."
"Ren?" Maruki's concerned voice dragged Ren's gaze back up; he hadn't even realized it had been drifting in the first place. "Is there something about that new friend that upsets you?"
Ren shook his head.
"Something about the gallery?"
Ren shook his head.
"What about the moment you met them?"
Ren froze.
"I see," Maruki said, frowning. Disappointed? No, more like...sad. An odd, abstract sadness. The way one might frown at a distant tragedy. "Do you want to keep talking about this?"
"Will it help?" Ren asked.
Maruki blinked. "It..." Quiet for a moment. "Ren, correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the feeling that you might not just be trying to remember things you don't know about." He leaned forward a little, his voice steady and soft and firm all at once. "I think you're also trying to remember things that you're hiding from yourself. Because you think it's time to remember them. Does that make sense?"
Ren nodded.
"Is there anything you're hiding from now?"
Ren wrapped the fingers of his right hand around his left wrist. "Yes," he said.
"And are you ready to remember it?" Maruki asked.
"Will it help me remember the other things?"
Maruki paused. "Yes."
Ren didn't care if it was a lie. "Then I'm ready."
Maruki nodded. "Follow my lead. Deep breath in." Maruki inhaled, and Ren followed suit. "Deep breath out." The two exhaled. "If this starts hurting you, or you feel panicked again, then I want you to start breathing like that again. I'll slow down, you won't have to say a word. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Alright?"
Ren nodded. Easy enough. "Alright."
Maruki smiled, in a half-fake way. Too honest to be professional. "Now, we're going to go step by step back through the moment we met your new friend. Start at the very beginning, don't skip ahead. What's the first thing he did?"
Ren was tempted to close his eyes. It seemed like the sensible thing to do. But he wasn't an idiot. He knew better than to leave himself open like that. He kept his eyes open, gaze wandering, inattentive but alert. And he focused on the memory. "He came up to me. I was anxious, and he noticed. Asked if I was okay."
"How did you feel about that?"
"Confused, mostly," Ren said. "He was a stranger. It didn't make sense for him to be so worried about me."
Maruki nodded. "What happened next?"
"We talked about a painting." Remembering the landscape wrapped in subtle flame, Ren felt something in his chest constrict. "It was a beautiful painting, it made me feel sad and yet...sort of seen? Like the artist knew me, or something."
Maruki made a small encouraging sound, a little note to continue.
"He said he was the painter; caught me off guard." Ren struggled for a moment to articulate a proper explanation for the complicated situation of Yusuke's 'donated' painting. "He wasn't getting a lot of credit for it. Which is kind of horseshit, cause...I'm not an art critic, but it was amazing, and he..." The man was smiling at him oddly. Duh, right, his feelings. "Uh, I was pissed about that."
"Good," Maruki said, still smiling. "And after that?"
Thinking back on Yusuke's compliment, Ren found his cheeks heating up. "Uh."
"Are you alright to continue?" Maruki said. Calm, yet concerned.
Ren nodded. "He just, um...said I was beautiful."
Ren expected Maruki to laugh, but he didn't. "How did that make you feel?" There was no humor in the question. His eyes, ever calm; smile, ever honest.
"Embarrassed, mostly." Ren shifted on the couch, leaning back into it. "It felt flattering, but untrue. Like he was seeing some part of me that wasn't there." He had the hang of this call and response now. "He asked if I wanted to model for his next painting. Which felt the same, I think, flattered but like I wasn't good enough for that." He was about to continue, but his voice caught. Right. There it was. There was that moment. Right on the cusp of that singular point of fracture.
Ren felt his bag press into his side, Morgana trying to comfort him through the fabric. Despite that, he still felt impossibly alone. Could he cross that line? Would Maruki even notice if he didn't? "He gave me his card, so I could get in contact with him. Really excited, too. Like a big puppy."
If Maruki found the comment risible, he didn't show it. "And how did that make you feel?"
Ren shrugged. Maruki frowned. Shit. "I mean," he said, stumbling over himself to correct. "Probably embarrassed, still. I mean, from that moment."
"It doesn't help to think about 'probably,'" Maruki said, both quieter and softer than Ren expected from him. "You don't have to talk about it, and you don't have to know. But it won't do any good to try and logic out your own reactions. If you're ready, if you know how you felt..." And he gestured to Ren.
Okay. Even if Maruki knew, he hadn't called him on it. Ren kept his fingers tight around his wrist. He could feel his pulse against his palm. Like his own traitorous heartbeat was trying to morse code out the words he couldn't say, wouldn't let himself say.
But here he was. Opening his mouth. "I felt sick. Like I wasn't safe anymore." He looked away from the man. The card, brushing against his wrist. "Not because of him, anything he did. Not on purpose. He just..." Ren didn't know how he even had breath left with which to speak. The card. His wrist. "It was an accident. He didn't mean to." His wrist.
"It's alright, Ren." Maruki gave a strained smile. "I trust your word. If you trust him, I've got no reason to disagree."
"I do," Ren said. "Besides, even if he wasn't, I mean, even if, I, he could have been the biggest asshole on the face of the planet. And he wouldn't have known. He couldn't have known." A laugh bubbled out of him, and he had no idea where it had come from. "He doesn't even go to Shujin. And even if...I mean, maybe people know about what happened, maybe Kobayakawa let it slip, but it's not like...like they'd know about that ."
"About what?" Maruki asked. His voice was barely louder than a whisper.
Like loosening a vice, Ren peeled his hands apart. And for the first time in months, he took a long look down at the only evidence left of that incident that had gotten him a month's stay in a bare concrete cell without even a facsimile of privacy.
Across his left wrist, perfectly tracing the one of those natural lines in his skin, was a scar. About a half-inch down from his palm, a smooth horizontal line, barely any lighter than the surrounding skin. But there it was. Clear as day. A clean cut. Like poetry. He felt oddly proud about that, and the thought twisted his stomach into knots.
"Ren?"
Without a word, Ren extended his arm towards the man, palm up. The scar on clear and plain display. It took Maruki a few seconds, but Ren saw the exact moment he noticed it. The moment that his eyes gleamed with deafening, hollow grief. "I see," he said. Silence fell between them. "Breathe with me again, please."
Ren nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He leaned back into the couch, closer to his bag, closer to the softly purring friend sending thrumming vibrations into the side of his leg.
Inhalation.
Exhalation.
Inhalation.
Exhalation.
Inhalation.
Exhalation.
5/18 – Wednesday
Evening
Takemi Medical Clinic
Ren's head was clearer by the time he sat down in Takemi's exam room. Walking still felt odd, as if his bones had filled with a heavy fog, but his thoughts slipped across his mind more smoothly, more normally. There was also the steady pulsating queasiness. Even more so when he considered the question he'd already promised himself that he'd ask the woman.
It took him until the final minutes of his appointment, when Takemi looked ready to stand and escort him out, before he finally worked up the courage. "Um. Doctor Takemi."
"Yes," she said, and it wasn't exactly a question.
"I've been thinking," he said. Great start, Ren. "I mean, back in my old town, I was...on this prescription, with my last doctor. He said it was to help with like...behavioral stuff."
Takemi's expression shifted in an imperceptible way. "I'm with you."
"And my parents cut me off last year," he continued. "They said they didn't think it was working. But, I mean, I've been feeling...really really awful, on and off, these past few months. And it started not too long after they stopped, so..." Breath in, breath out. "Would you be...like, allowed to prescribe me that again? I can pay for it, but...yeah."
Takemi took that in, spinning her pen between her fingers. "It really depends on the medication," she said, slowly. "For some diagnoses, I'd be obliged to refer you to a specialist."
"I remember what it's called, if that helps," Ren said. She nodded, beckoning him continue. "It's...uh, it's got a really weird name, it's called a GnRH analog."
Takemi froze in place. She blinked at nothing, then focused on Ren. "Are you sure that's the name?"
"Yes?" he said.
"You said this was for behavioral issues," she said.
He nodded. Maybe he was misremembering, but that all felt and sounded right. "Yeah. That's what he said."
Takemi tapped her pen idly on her opposite hand, then raised it to her mouth, chewing on the plastic end. "Talk me through some of those symptoms you're experiencing."
Ren nodded. "I guess it's...like, I barely ever have an appetite, and that's not...normal, I think. Never wanting to eat anything. I get queasy really often too. Plus, whenever I'm not really active, I keep feeling like all I want to do is go back home and go to bed, but when I'm actually in bed, I can't fall asleep. And when I am active, and sometimes when I'm not, I get bad leg aches at night. And then, uh..." His throat felt dry. Takemi was a doctor. Her job was to help. That didn't make this any less mortifying. "Like, um, on and off. Once a month or so. I get, like, really bad stomach cramps, and–"
Takemi raised a hand, and Ren cut himself off. She moved the same hand to her mouth, brow furrowed. Like she was trying to find the words. "A few more questions, if that's alright."
He just nodded.
"Are you currently experiencing chronic anxiety or depression?"
"Both, yeah."
"And when are those feelings strongest?"
Hm. He had to think about that for a second. "Middle of the day, usually? Mornings are pretty bad too, but evenings are a lot better."
A ghost of a smirk on her face. "So, when you're around other people, then?" Ren nodded. He didn't exactly enjoy how smug Takemi looked. "Would you say that you have a strong negative reaction to people seeing or treating you in a particularly feminine way?"
Ren blinked. That...was that in her purview? Was that something medication could fix , even? "Yeah," he said, slowly. "I mean, I'm not a girl, obviously." She nodded. Like she was agreeing. "And I don't want to be treated like one."
"Makes sense," she said, calmly. Did it? Ren felt completely and totally lost. "Alright. Amamiya." Takemi leaned back in her chair. "Let's try and unpack this, shall we?"
Unpack was not a particularly confidence-inspiring choice of words. "Okay," he said. Maybe this was a huge mistake. He found himself wondering if he could convince Oxymoron to rewind just the last twenty minutes or something.
"Roughly half of the symptoms you're mentioning are what we in the industry typically refer to as puberty," she said, with an odd knowing smirk.
"Oh," he said. That...hm. "I'm sixteen though. Isn't that usually when it...like, stops?"
Takemi wiggled a hand back and forth. "The most drastic changes during puberty generally begin to slow around your age, yes. But that's hardly definite, and in your case..." She chuckled. "Well, assuming you don't resume treatment, your body has a lot of catching up to do."
Ren just stared at her. "Huh?"
Takemi sighed. "You were taking GnRH analogs. Do you know specifically what that medication does?" Ren shook his head. "It's used for treating a particular...well, I believe the most updated diagnosis is Childhood Gender Incongruence. But the more catch-all term would be dysphoria. In your case, dysphoria caused by an adverse reaction to the effects on puberty."
Ren blinked. "I was...having an allergic reaction to puberty?"
Takemi snorted. "In a sense, I suppose you were. Though, a psychological reaction, not a physical one."
"Okay." He was still very lost, but things were starting to get a little clearer. "So what's dysphoria, then?"
A long few seconds of silence. She didn't seem to be thinking. More like...trying to make a decision. "How much did this specialist or your parents explain to you? About this medication, or about why you were experiencing...'behavioral issues.'"
Nothing. "Not much," he said.
"How much is not much?"
Ren winced. "Uh. Basically just...that it would help me stop acting out. If I took that, and if they...I mean, if my parents...uh. Treated me differently. A little."
Another bout of silence. A cold, knowing shimmer in her eyes. "I see." A breath in, a breath out. "Did you go by a different name before that specialist gave that advice? Or different pronouns?"
Ren froze. How did she...how did she know ? "Both," he said, barely able to say the word.
Takemi turned around in her chair. And then back to him. Like she couldn't make up her mind. She ran a hand back through her hair. "I'm glad you were on that treatment," she said. "Most other kids wouldn't be that lucky. Aren't that lucky. Getting that diagnosis, puberty blockers, being allowed to self-identify. Any of those on their own would help immensely, and all three? Frankly, others your age would kill for something like that." Something bitter shining in her cold eyes. "But in my professional opinion, your parents treating them as a privilege to be removed is... beyond negligent."
Ren didn't know what to say. This was...hearing that...he couldn't decide if he felt more vindicated or mortified. That anyone could find those words, that they would think them, that they would put their own voice to the thoughts Ren had shoved down into his gut to fester for all eternity. It was validating, in an odd way.
"So," Takemi said. "Let's rectify that." She cracked her neck, spun her pen once more between her fingers. An electric sort of energy across every syllable. "First, dysphoria. You don't know what it is." Ren nodded. "Psychology isn't my strong suit, but I'll give it my best shot."
She cleared her throat. "Everyone, every human being, views themselves in a specific way. For example..." She gestured to herself. "I'm Tae Takemi. I'm a woman, a doctor, and a lesbian, in no particular order. If someone were to mistake me as a fan of pop music, I might laugh at them, but it would hardly cause me pain." A twitch at the edge of her smile. "But those who choose to mistake me for a man? That is where the potential for harm lies."
Was there...something pointed in that statement? It felt oddly sharp, like she was trying to imply something. "Got it," Ren said.
"There's no medication for that," Takemi continued. "I can't force the world to change how they think about you, or force you to change how you think about yourself. But I can help ensure that you feel more comfortable in your own skin. That your external self matches your internal self."
Ren blinked. "Does that mean...I mean, should I try and change my own cognition?"
"That's not for me to decide." Quick, and firm. And her own hesitation followed. "But I will say, those core tenants of your own identity, those parts of you that make you feel the most like Ren Amamiya? There is nothing about those that you need to change. Not unless you yourself feel that those aspects of yourself no longer fit you."
Hm. Ren adjusted himself, stretching out his stiff fingers; he'd been clinging to the edge of the examination table without realizing it. "So, I don't have to... not be a boy. If I want to be one, I can be."
"If you want to be one," Takemi said, with an odd little smile. "Then you already are." Oh. That felt...nice. To hear that. "You're smiling."
"Oh," he said. "Uh. Sorry?"
"Don't be," Takemi chuckled. "That's a good sign." She put her pen down on the desk behind her. "Whatever you're feeling, whatever you felt when I said that? That's, in a way, the antithesis to what GnRH was treating. Not dysphoria, but euphoria." Takemi stood, and took a few steps towards the curtained-off area in the back of the examination room. "I'm not going to base your treatment plan on a smile, Amamiya, but I will give you some options."
"Sure," he said. "Options sound good."
Takemi slipped behind the curtain. There was the slight sound of plastic and glass instruments colliding with each other as she rummaged through some manner of drawer. "GnRH Analogs are a stopgap," she said, raising her voice slightly to counteract the distance. "They're very effective at delaying the issue of dysphoria until the patient is old enough to make a decision on their own treatment." Takemi chuckled. "As you said, you're sixteen. That's plenty old enough. That being said, I'm more than happy to resume those injections. They won't necessarily induce euphoria, but it will mitigate those dysphoric feelings."
Makes sense. The familiar path. A return to that comfort he'd been deprived of. "What's my other option?"
"Testosterone enanthate," she said. "I could put in an order for name-brand, but I'm pretty sure...I have some..." A clatter of metal. "Aha! There you are. Slippery little..." Takemi pulled back the curtain, her smile triumphant, a small fat vial of clear liquid clutched in her hand. "'I've synthesized my own as well."
Ren stared at the vial. Testosterone. Huh. "Do you treat dysphoria a lot?"
"I wouldn't say I'd meet the traditional definitions of a specialist," she replied, returning to her chair and placing the vial on her desk. "But yes." Takemi chuckled again. "It wasn't the best learning experience, running a crash course on myself. But none of my patients have ever had any complaints, so I suppose that evens it out."
It took a long few seconds for Ren to piece together her implication. "Wait, back up, you...treated your own dysphoria?"
Takemi laughed into her closed mouth, looking at once embarrassed and proud. "Yes, I did," she said. "I didn't trust anyone else to handle it at the time. It wasn't...the smartest decision, on my part. But it worked out, in the end."
Ren got the distinct feeling that should have made him uncomfortable. A doctor running a treatment plan on herself sounded unprofessional. But the only thing he could feel, through the lingering numbness, was...excitement. "That testosterone stuff. Will that make me euphoric?"
"That's the idea," Takemi said, with an odd and pleasant shimmer in her gaze. "I can't promise anything, but this medication isn't set in stone. It'll be simple to adjust, if you find that it isn't working for you, or that my dosage isn't optimal." She tapped her fingers against the chair's armrest.
"I'll be relying on you, though. I'm not a psychologist, and I'm not an expert on dysphoria. I just have more experience than most." Almost defensive, protecting herself against an accusation or expectation he hadn't voiced. "Don't lean on me to figure out who you are, or how you want to be seen. That's your job. All I'm here to do is help you get there."
Ren let that soak in, and then nodded. "That's fine by me."
"Good." Takemi swiveled around in her chair. "I'll give you some reading material to look over. Next week, if you're ready to make your decision, we can start treatment. Alright?"
Who he was. Who he wanted to be. How he wanted to be seen. Ren glanced down at himself. It felt like a lookout staring down at a giant, at a body that wasn't quite his. He clenched and unclenched his hands. No, it was his. It was his body, his skin and his bones. His scar across his left wrist. He looked up at the patient doctor, at her turned back and her warm winter eyes. "Yeah," he said. "Sounds good."
