5/18 – Wednesday
Evening
Cafe Leblanc
"Are you okay, kid?" Sojiro asked. The cafe was empty, as per usual.
Ren's bag was slipping off his shoulder. His feet ached, his eyes were blurred over and the inside of his chest kept itching. "I think I'm broken," he said, before he processed the words.
Sojiro stared at him. An awful, surprised sadness in those grey eyes, and a glint of some kind of strange recognition. Like he'd seen this all before.
Ren shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm...I don't know why I said that." He forced himself to laugh, and the sound echoed strangely in his ears. "It's been a weird day and I haven't slept since Monday."
"Tell him you're gonna be okay," Morgana urged from the bag.
"I'm going to be okay," he echoed. "I'm...I'm handling it."
A few seconds of silence. Sojiro turned his attention to the countertop, running a damp rag across the lacquer surface. "I know I'm not the best at emotional stuff," he said. "But I'm...still your guardian. You can come to me, even if you just need to ramble off and be heard. Alright?"
Ren didn't know how to do that. He nodded anyway.
"And get some rest," Sojiro said. "That's an order."
"Yes sir," Ren said. He walked to the stairs, lingering at the bottom before he made the climb. "Hey, uh. Sojiro?"
"Yeah kid?" He was staring into the countertop as if it held the answers to all the universe.
"Thank you for taking me in," Ren said. "For taking care of me. I don't know any place that feels more like, uh, like home than here." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I like living here. So, thank you."
And Sojiro smiled. He just waved to Ren, a little 'get-along.' But that smile was enough of an acknowledgement.
He ascended the staircase, and Morgana leapt out of his bag and scampered across the floor to his bed. "Parcel tonight," he said, in an almost sing-song voice. "Let's open it now so you can go to sleep."
By the time he'd pulled the parcel from its hiding spot and slid it across the floor to Ren, the Thief leader had completely changed from school uniform to pajamas. Ren picked up the parcel and sat on his bed, giving Morgana time to shake himself off and hop up onto the mattress as well. Then, he opened the benefaction.
"Well?" Morgana urged, trying to peek over Ren's shoulder. "What's inside?"
"Lots of things," Ren replied. "Uh. Looks like playing cards." He upended the parcel above his bed and no less than twenty bundles of cards spilled out over each other across his blanket. The cards themselves were the size of normal playing cards, each deck held together by a paper band. Ren picked up one of the decks. The card on its front was far more intricately designed than a playing card should have been, depicting a snowflake-like frost creeping its way across a sheet of glass. He pulled out the front card and flipped it over. Rather than suit and number, the card's reverse side held nothing but tightly-packed text, from top to bottom. Ren squinted at the tiny lettering. "Bu...Bufudyne," he read. "Uh, something about a blade that cuts the breath. It's really hard to read." As he slipped the card back into its bundle, he noticed similar small lettering across the paper band, written in a pale blue ink. "I guess these cards are all supposed to be, like, ice-related? Whatever that means."
"And this one says it's 'enhancement,'" Morgana said, batting around another bundle, his ears perked in curiosity. "What are we supposed to do with these?"
Ren shrugged. "Maybe we're supposed to find a shop that has trading cards? This might be some sort of game." He started picking up decks and placing them back in the envelope. "I could ask Yusuke if he's into...collecting..." There was a folded piece of paper in his hand. He'd picked it up on instinct, plucking it from the sheet like yet another bundle of cards. Without another word, he unfolded the note, Morgana instantly rushing to his side to read it as well.
It held only four simple words:
Show the twins.
– Oxymoron
"That's pretty uncharacteristic of her," Morgana noted. "Her other instructions have been a lot less straightforward." He glanced at Ren. "Any idea who 'the twins' are supposed to be?"
The two girls, each with a single yellow eye and a head of blonde hair, popped into Ren's mind. "Yeah," he said. "Uh. I think you'll have to trust me with that, though."
█████
After School
Cafe Leblanc, Attic
The Trickster rested. His sister and their cat were downstairs with their father. They probably all wanted to spend time with him, after his return from the verge of death, but his partners took priority.
There wasn't quite enough space for all three on the bed. They made it work. Sun and moon, each holding one of his hands tight. He could feel them against him, he could feel their breath, and it calmed his rabbit heart.
His sun broke the silence. "You've got a weird look on your face. Whatcha thinkin bout?"
"Running away," he answered, honestly. "I'm legally dead; it wouldn't be that hard to find somewhere quiet to settle down."
"Don't," his moon said. She was glaring at him.
The Trickster chuckled. "I wouldn't dare. Not unless I could bring you with me." He stared at the ceiling. "Not unless I could keep you all safe."
"Can't say it doesn't sound nice." His sun chuckled. "Just hopping a bus and going somewhere new with you two? I'd kinda like that."
"I think it'd be too hard to say goodbye," his moon mumbled. "I'd need to convince my father."
"You could just write a note and leave before he notices," his sun offered.
His moon glared at the sun. "Would you do that to your mother?"
His sun blanched. "Are you insane? No, of course I wouldn't."
"So neither will I," she said, and stuck her tongue out at him.
The Trickster laughed. This...this was safe. Here, he was safe. And here, he knew it couldn't last. "I don't know if we can change the world," he admitted. "I think we might all die." He closed his eyes to shut out the tears. "I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."
"Hey," his sun said. His voice was so soft, so comforting. "You're not alone. You've got us. All the Thieves. And the whats-it-called Group too."
"I don't want to lose you." His voice couldn't stay steady. His heart ached. "I just found you both, you're here and I'm here and I don't want to lose this. I don't know if I'm strong enough, and I can't–"
"Ren." His moon's hand on his chest, over his heart. "We've got you," she said. "We made a promise, didn't we?" He could almost feel her pulse through her palm, beating against him. She squeezed his other hand tight. "We'll be at your side. Always."
"If you can't close the distance on your own," his sun added. "We'll pick up the slack. We're not abandoning you. And," he pressed his lips against the Trickster's cheek, "you're not gonna abandon us."
The Trickster sobbed. And they held him, his celestials, his heart twisted into two clean and entwined halves bound by red string.
5/19 – Thursday
Morning
Cafe Leblanc, Attic
Ren's cheeks were wet when he woke. He was struck, inexplicably, with the thought that his bed felt empty. Like there was something, or someone, or someones, who belonged there. They weren't there. And some strange, sleep-addled part of his mind corrected him: they weren't there yet.
5/19 – Thursday
After School
Near Shibuya
Yusuke seemed to be thinking of other things. Ren was a lot sharper now, after a good night's sleep, and the blue-haired young man appeared quite distracted to him. "Are you–" he began.
"You're not here just to model for me," Yusuke cut him off, "are you?"
"I'm not," Ren admitted. " I did...want to know more about you and Madarame. I am here to model though."
Yusuke nodded. Then, he sighed. "I'll allow you one question," he said. "Just one. You don't have to leave after that, but I don't feel comfortable letting you waste your time on me, asking questions I refuse to answer."
Ren thought about it. One question, huh? Morgana was investigating elsewhere in the shack, there was no telling what he might find. It would probably be prudent to question the young man on some aspect of his relationship to Madarame, try and pick out a particular mistreatment from his testimony. But curiosity won out. "You said I was beautiful, back in the art gallery." He resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. "What...about me, exactly, did you find beautiful?"
Yusuke paused. "I...didn't expect that question, Ren." He glanced at his model around the side of the canvas. "Is this what they call 'fishing for compliments'?"
Ren felt his cheeks heat up. "I dunno," he mumbled. "I just...wanted to know what you saw in me, I guess."
"Hm." The young man gave him an odd look. "I saw you," he said, simply.
"Could you, like," Ren struggled to find the words he was looking for, "articulate what about me, though?"
"I could say it was simply that you looked good in a suit, but..." Yusuke thought about it, scratching his chin and staring at his canvas. "You seemed distraught, and yet enraptured by...um, by my painting. And you were off in a corner of the gallery like you wanted to be alone, but gave no signs of such when I spoke to you. I sort of assumed you were as eager for company as you were to be unseen. Plus, you were wearing a rather fetching suit on top of an equally mundane t-shire; quite the daring contrast."
"Unintentional," Ren said under his breath.
Yusuke continued, either not hearing Ren or choosing not to respond. He seemed lost in thought, in his own contemplation, as if chewing over some particular thought. "I've been struggling with painting recently," he said. "I've become satisfied in my familiarity with the techniques of artistry, with the act of painting itself. I've been told I'm rather skilled at landscapes, at making an appealing abstraction." He glanced towards Ren with a little smile. "I think your praise of my painting the other day speaks to that."
He nodded. "I don't know much about technique, but I know what I like."
Yusuke laughed. "Well spoken." He returned to his canvas, and the smile faded from his lips. "But to be honest, landscapes are not where my aspiration lies. I quite desperately seek to be able to replicate human emotion as it is, the complex beauty of the human form, and not simply the shallow beauty of nature."
Ren was about to protest the idea of Yusuke's untitled landscape being shallow, but something about the young man's statement caught his attention. The complex beauty of the human form. Emotion as it is. "Do you mean, like how your mother painted?"
"Yes," Yusuke replied. "My mother excelled at portraiture, and it feels...wrong that I should not be able to follow in her footsteps." He took a long, deep breath. "The painting I showed you last time you were here – 'Sayuri' – would be my gold standard. I hope you can understand what I mean when I say I wish to emulate even a fraction of the emotion my mother managed to weave into that portrait."
"I think I do," he replied.
"When I saw you in the gallery," Yusuke said, "I think I saw that emotion in you. That complexity, that contrast. You seemed very human. And I thought that was sublimely beautiful."
"Hm." Ren let Yusuke's words sink in, felt them swim around his chest, fill him up with some odd sort of pride. "I think I like that answer."
Yusuke chuckled. "Glad to hear it." He was quiet for a short while. The room was silent, but for the chirping of birds muffled through the glass window, the quiet hum of some heater elsewhere in the house, and the occasional sloshing of water displaced by a brush requiring cleansing. "Ren," he said.
Ren almost started. "Yes?"
"May I ask..." Yusuke paused. He took a deep breath. "Why do you want to know about my Sensei? I can't believe it's just curiosity, there's something else, isn't there?"
Oh. Well, this was going to be tough to explain. Ren forced himself to stay still while he thought of an answer that didn't involve the Phantom Thieves. His mind fell on the plaque next to Yusuke's painting in the gallery. "You said Madarame's been in a funk since your mother's painting was stolen. That it's hard for him to paint."
Yusuke nodded and said nothing.
Ren continued. "But you're painting. And you're amazing at it. That landscape was absolutely gorgeous, and it got tucked away in the corner of a gallery under his name."
"That wasn't his choice," Yusuke said. His eyes seemed distant, his expression contorted, as if trying to stomach an unappetizing concept. "The gallery owners..."
"He couldn't force the owners to pay for it, yeah, but he didn't have to agree to their terms." Ren couldn't help but cross his arms. "He could have just refused to let the gallery use his art if they didn't at least move your painting out where everyone would see it. How is Madarame supposed to show your name to the world if he lets someone just do that to your art?"
Yusuke was quiet. "Do you think he lied to me?" he asked, finally, in a quiet voice. It wasn't an accusation. He stared at Ren with those honest, grieving eyes and Ren felt the harsh truth boil back down into the pit of his stomach.
"I..." He hesitated. He didn't want to hurt the guy. Didn't want to turn him against his teacher – his father – based on nothing but Ren's own speculation. Ren took a deep breath. "I think he's not trying hard enough. I don't know, maybe he's been more depressed than he let you think. Or there's something on his mind and he's not thinking straight. I don't know. I'm just...worried."
Yusuke nodded, and smiled softly. He didn't look satisfied, though. "Thank you for your concern. I will...talk to him. And I'll be sure to let you know how that talk goes, so you don't need to be worried."
Ren didn't have the utmost confidence in Madarame's ability to tell the truth, knowing the man's desires were as contorted as they were. But that sounded okay to him. He nodded. "That'd be nice. Sorry, if I ruined the mood again."
"No, not at all." Yusuke put down his brush. "My hand was starting to get rather cramped anyway." He paused. "Ren, may I tell you something?"
"Uh," Ren said. "Yeah. Of course you can."
The young man shifted on the wooden stool. "That landscape. It wasn't...intended to be untitled. I had a name for it, originally." A quiet breath. "I called it 'View From a Foxhole.'"
A shelter from fire, viewing a landscape that seemed at once serene and engulfed. Ren felt a newfound appreciation for the piece. "That's a very good name," Ren said. "Why didn't you keep it?"
"Sensei's advice," Yusuke said. "He felt it would be more attractive to potential buyers without the name. That the mystery was more compelling than the confirmation."
And yet, Madarame still hadn't been able to sell the landscape. According, at least, to Madarame himself. Ren nodded. "Thank you. For telling me, I mean."
"Thank you for listening," Yusuke said with a soft smile.
"Oh," came a voice from the doorway. "Yusuke, you didn't tell me you were inviting over a guest."
Ren turned to see a man with grey hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing a tan and black kimono, and staring at the two boys with an amused expression on his face. Madarame, no doubt.
"Sensei!" Yusuke said, rising off the stool with a start. "I didn't expect you back so soon. Did your meeting go well?"
Madarame let out a long, frustrated breath. "Cut short, I'm afraid. Mister Koharu got an urgent phone call and needed to suspend our meeting until next week. I still haven't had a chance to discuss going forward with the Kitagawa Memorial Exhibit yet."
Kitagawa, that was Yusuke's last name. Why would...oh. His mother, of course. Ren immediately looked to Yusuke, whose expression was strangely blank.
"These things take time," Yusuke said, in an odd monotone. Like he was reading from a script.
"Quite, quite." Madarame rubbed the back of his neck. "I am trying my very best, you know. It shouldn't be long now, I'm sure Toshiko can wait a week longer, don't you?"
Yusuke flinched, and Ren felt his chest tighten. Some spark of anger welled up in him, and he forced it back down. "I'm sure she can," Yusuke replied.
Ren waited for Morgana, lingering just out of sight of the shack. He'd given the signal to leave – two sharp coughs – on his way out, and he could only pray that his feline friend was able to slip out past the shack's inhabitants.
"Hey," came the not-a-cat's voice from below, along with fuzzy body brushing against Ren's leg. "Anything to report?"
"Nothing concrete," Ren replied. He knelt down and opened his bag for Morgana. "If I were Yusuke, I'd probably say Madarame's distorted desires were a result of his depression, his grief and struggle against those who undermine his and Yusuke's paintings."
"Hm." Morgana hopped into the bag, then plopped down and settled in. "Okay, up." Ren stood. "And what do you think, Ren?"
Ren grit his teeth. "Best case, he's stifling Yusuke's abilities because he's incompetent and stubborn. Worst case, he's a selfish bastard and he's profiting off Yusuke somehow." He started walking back towards the station.
Morgana hummed a little thoughtful tune. "Unfortunately for Yusuke, I think it's probably the latter. I found a locked door to some kind of storage space when I was investigating. I couldn't get it open, but I peeked under the door and it's full of paintings. I counted at least two dozen."
"And Madarame claims he's in a slump," Ren grumbled. "We still don't know why he's hanging onto those paintings, but I don't think it's anything good."
"We'll find out more in our infiltration," Morgana said. "Madarame's Palace should have evidence of his crimes, just like Kamoshida's did."
"Yeah." He wasn't really looking forward to seeing, firsthand, exactly how the man was treating Yusuke. Ren took a deep breath. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, we'll see."
5/19 – Thursday
Evening
Shibuya Central Street
Morgana gave Ren an odd look, sitting back on in his haunches in a doorway of the alleyway. "Who are you meeting up with, exactly?"
Ren rubbed the back of his neck. The future-knowing Oxymoron and her parcels were one thing, but trying to explain Igor and the Velvet Room and the two incredibly violent children? "Okay, so, uh." He tried to find the words to articulate his situation without sounding absolutely insane. He failed. "I have no idea how to explain this. I think you're just gonna have to trust me."
The feline glared at him, his fur ruffled and his tail twitching back and forth. "Fine," he said, finally. "I'll take a lap around the block." Before Ren had a chance to thank him, he hopped off the step and slipped around the corner, out of sight.
"Stay safe," Ren called, as quiet as he could, still managing to get a few odd looks from passersby for his trouble. Then, he turned towards the shimmering blue door imposed against reality.
"About time you showed up, Inmate," came a shill and familiar voice from above. Ren glanced up to see the blue-clad warden, with a patch over her right eye and her hair wrapped in tight buns, sitting on top of the door, kicking her feet a little.
"Howdy, Caroline," he replied. "Do you, uh, need any help getting down from there?"
She scoffed at him. "I'm perfectly capable of descending on my own." To prove her point, she pushed herself off the door. Ren scrambled to catch her, but she simply landed with a little "humph" on the concrete. Caroline brushed herself off. "What's with that weird look on your face?"
"You just scared the sh–" Ren stopped himself. No swearing around the children. "You scared me."
Caroline rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a wimp, Inmate. I'm much stronger than I look, a fall like that isn't going to hurt at all."
Ren found himself laughing. "Okay, okay, sorry for worrying."
The girl grabbed the edge of the iron-barred door and yanked it open, gesturing inside. "Just get in, already. Our master wishes to speak with you."
Any enjoyment Ren might have had from the child's company promptly vanished. "Right. Guess I might as well talk with him." He stepped through the doorway, back into his cell.
The Velvet Room was exactly the same as the last time he'd seen it. Those same haunting blue walls, the same chains across his cell door, the same man sitting at that wooden desk in the otherwise barren prison. The bars of Ren's cell seemed to split Igor down the middle, fracturing the image of the strange and imposing man at a short distance.
"Step forward, Trickster," Igor said. His booming voice filled the space completely.
Ren crossed his cell, grabbing hold of the bars for lack of anything else to do with his hands. "What do you want?" he asked.
Caroline smacked her baton against the bars, making Ren jump. "Watch your tone, Inmate!" Justine, next to her, rolled her eyes.
Igor chuckled, as unthreatened by Ren as he had ever been. "In light of your first success on your path towards rehabilitation," he replied, "I feel that it would be appropriate to grant you access to more of the Velvet Room's capabilities, to aid you on your mission."
"Great," Ren said, trying to keep the contempt out of his voice. "Thank you."
"Girls," Igor said, and the two hopped to attention. "Please escort the prisoner to Lockdown." He snapped his fingers, and a small opening formed in one side of Ren's cell, just big enough for him to squeeze through.
"Come with us, Inmate," Justine said, gesturing to the opening.
"Don't make us get rough with you," Caroline added, smacking her baton into her palm.
Ren didn't like the sound of whatever 'Lockdown' was, but he didn't have much of a choice. "Lead the way," he said.
After a short, winding hallway, the twins escorted Ren into a large open space, surrounded by a ring of jagged blue rock and chains similar to the ones across his cell door.
"Welcome to Lockdown," Justine began, absent-mindedly opening and closing her Compendium. "This is a special arena that our master has set up for the sake of your rehabilitation."
Ren took a step into the so-called arena and stumbled at the sudden ease of movement. He glanced down to see the chains and monochrome inmate clothes had been inexplicably replaced with the black garb of a phantom thief. At a touch, he confirmed the mask lying flat against his face. "So what am I supposed to do here, exactly?"
"You're supposed to fight, duh." Caroline rolled her eyes. "What else would someone do in an arena?"
"Specifically," Justine cut in, "you will be locked in combat against one of your Personas. In order to strengthen the bond between yourself and your Persona, the two of you must engage in fierce conflict. If you do so, you should both grow stronger as a result."
"This space is special." Caroline tapped the ground with her baton. "It'll keep you and your Persona from getting seriously hurt, and we'll heal you if you get roughed up."
"Our master wishes you to use Lockdown at least once today," Justine said. "After that, you're free to continue fighting or leave as you wish. We'll bring you to Lockdown when you're ready, but access will be restricted if you enter the Velvet Room from Mementos or a Palace."
Seemed fair enough. Ren stretched out each arm in turn. "I've gotta fight a Persona, huh?"
Justine nodded. "Take your time to prepare, if you wish."
Ren was about to give the go-ahead, but remembered the purpose of his visit. He reached into his pocket – thankfully, the bundle of 'flame' cards he'd grabbed out of the parcel were still there. Careful not to pull the entire bundle out of his pocket, Ren slipped a single card off the top and walked over to the twins. "Really quick, do either of you know what it is?"
Caroline's jaw dropped instantly, and Justine's eyebrows similarly raised. "Give me that!" Caroline demanded, snatching the card from Ren. "Agidyne!? That's a super good skill!" She stared at it, marveling at the little intricate details.
"That," Justine said, sounding more than a little grumpy at Caroline hogging the card, "is a Skill Card. It is a crystallization of a Persona's abilities. A very useful tool for an adept trickster."
"Cool," Ren replied. A breath. "What does it do?"
Caroline cut off Justine before she could answer. "Give this baby to the right Persona in battle, and it'll let them use that power for a short time."
Justine glared at her sister. "Or, you could give us a card and a few days, and we can teach the contained skill to one of your Personas."
That sounded exceptionally helpful and completely overwhelming. Ren almost laughed out loud at how absurdly difficult it was going to be to decide how to use all of these cards effectively. "Good to know," he said. "Can I, uh, have that back now?"
Caroline begrudgingly handed the card back to Ren and he pocketed it. "Are you gonna fight, or what?"
Right, Lockdown. Ren stretched out each arm in turn. "Do I get to choose who I fight?"
"Correct," Justine said, flipping through the Compendium clipboard. "You may fight one of your current Personas, or we can summon one from the Compendium."
Well, he could definitely beat Pixie one on one. Maybe Bicorn, but that might be tough. Then there was...
Ren blinked. "This arena, uh, stops me from getting killed, right?"
"And maimed, blinded, impaled, eviscerated or burned." Caroline counted each horrid fates off on her fingers.
"Right." He still wasn't really a fan of the idea. But he couldn't get the thought out of his head. "I...hm. How do I call the Persona I want to fight?"
Justine sighed. "Simply summon them as you would normally."
"Got it." Ren took a deep breath. "Okay." He raised one hand to his mask. Another long, deep breath. He wasn't sure which name to use, so he decided to use them both. "Arsene Lupin," he commanded.
The mask shattered off his face. Blue flame ignited into a roaring pyre a few feet in front of him, rolling and twisting and then congealing into a solid form. A black vest. A white jacket. A long cane. The boy clad in pale and pitch, that young man with eyes on fire underneath the brim of his top hat.
"Boy," Lupin said, his voice low. "I did warn you what would happen if you assumed I answered to your every whim, did I not?"
Ren stood his ground. "Sorry for calling you on short notice," he said. "I need a favor."
Lupin chuckled. "Well, at least you've learned some manners since last time." He leaned his head to the side, cracking his neck. "I suppose I'll hear you out."
"I want to get strong," Ren said. "You're not going to lend me your strength all the time, I respect that, but it means I need to get stronger. If I can't make it to those bounties you were talking about, you won't be able to show off your power either."
"Hm." Lupin leaned on his cane and contemplated that. "Your logic is solid. So what? What do you need from me?"
Ren unsheathed the silver knife, that blade with the skull at its hilt, his first gift from Oxymoron. "I would like to spar with you. And for you to train me. If you would be so kind."
The Persona stared at Ren, at the Phantom Thief and his knife, and laughed. "I see. You wish to hone your blade against a master's. How bold of you." Lupin tossed his cane up, caught it towards its center. He grabbed the end and unsheathed the long sword held within. Positioned like a fencer, Lupin held the sheath in his left hand and pointed his sword directly at Ren. "If you fancy yourself my equal, come at me, boy!"
Ren felt an excited buzz electrify his spine, and he tightened his grip around the knife. "Yeah," was all he could say in return.
Justine took a step forward, raising her clipboard between Ren and his Persona. "There shall be no use of firearms, elemental skills, or outside items of any sort in this match."
"You're gonna fight until one of you passes out or says uncle," Caroline added, bouncing on her heels.
"Begin," the twins said in unison. Justine moved her clipboard out of the way.
Ren dropped into a dead sprint. It was only a dozen or so feet between him and Lupin, he needed to make that distance count. Blade up, hilt in both hands, eyes locked on a point just below Lupin's collar.
He didn't see the sword move. Only the flash of pale blue light against steel. A strange, sharp pain across his ankle. Ren lapsed for a single breath, and he was on the ground. His knees and elbows stung, and his fingers ached around the grip of the knife he'd still managed to hold onto. A weight against the flat of his back that he realized was Lupin's foot.
"Point," Lupin said. He lifted his foot.
Ren shoved off the ground with his offhand, rolling, stumbling up to his feet, trying to steady himself. In the instant his gaze focused on Lupin again, another silver flash. Another sharp pain across his ankle and his foot was knocked out from under him. Ren caught himself this time, dropping to one knee, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.
"Point," Lupin said again. He was right in front of Ren, cleaning a bit of blood off his sword.
Ren forced himself back up, even as his leg shook, and swung at Lupin. The gentleman thief simply pivoted in place, letting the blade cleave the air past his head. Once, twice, the blade cut through nothing and Lupin's stance didn't change an inch. Rather than swing again, Ren adjusted his grip and forced his injured leg to stay steady. Straightforward tactics weren't working. How about a gambit?
He lead with a sharp jab with the blade, right for Lupin's stomach. Lupin stepped back, and Ren adjusted his stab into a wild swing up, as if he were trying to catch the thief's chin. Rather than jump out of the way, Lupin swatted the knife to the side with the hilt of his sword.
Ren could have grinned if he wasn't so focused. He sprung forward, turning the momentum of Lupin's swat into a spin, wrapping his left arm around the thief's neck. In a second, he was behind Lupin, holding the gentleman in a headlock, pressing the point of his knife against Lupin's side. "Point," Ren said.
"Hm." Lupin replied.
Ren felt strangely off-balance, tilting forward. A breath lapsed and then Ren was on his back on the ground. Lupin, above, staring down with an expression of complete neutrality on his face. Ren tried to move his right arm, but Lupin was holding it in place with his foot.
"This game has run its course," Lupin said. His eyes burned with hollow fire. He pressed the point of his sword against Ren's chest. "Concede."
"You're only up three to one," Ren wheezed back. "I'm not going to give up just cause you're a sore loser."
Lupin let out a sound not unlike a growl and leaned down to grab Ren's collar. He dragged the boy to his feet, then shoved him. Ren stumbled, and regained his balance, head spinning, heart pounding, body aching. Lupin looked ready to attack, but instead, a strange smile crept onto his lips. He slowly, carefully, sheathed his sword and tucked it into his belt. "Strike me," he said. "Aim to kill. Show me your resolve and I'll show you just how outmatched you are."
Ren stared at the thief. This was some sort of trick, obviously. He adjusted his grip on the knife, trying to relax his aching fingers. One long, deep breath. Then, he ran towards Lupin once more. Ren raised the blade, locked his gaze on Lupin's neck, through his neck, and swung as hard as he could.
Lupin simply raised one gloved hand and caught the blade between his fingers.
A silence, permeated by Ren's heavy breathing and the flicker of flame across Lupin's face. "I see through you, Trickster," he said. "You don't have what it takes to hurt me. You're too weak."
Ren grit his teeth, both hands on the knife, struggling to shove the blade down despite Lupin's vice grip. "I asked you...to help make me stronger," he said, "not...just make me feel like shit."
Lupin laughed, bitter and cruel. "You asked me to help a fern grow into a redwood. You'll never beat me, boy, not once in a thousand years. I'm not too proud to admit you're tenacious, but tenacity can only bring you so far. You're far too kind for what strength I offer, too soft to do what needs to be done. What point is there in struggling–"
Fury, cold and unmitigated, flooded Ren's veins. "What fucking point is there in laying down and dying!?" Lupin looked taken aback by Ren's outburst, his hollow eyes wide. "I don't give a shit...about your pride." The blade shifted, descended a single millimeter against Lupin's grip. The thief's gaze shot towards the knife between his fingers. "I don't give a shit about your strength." An inch. Then two. "I'm not going to let myself lose...to a vain piece of shit like you!" And Ren brought the knife down, through Lupin's fingers, across the gentleman's palm.
Ren breathed in sweat. Droplets of blood slipped across steel and fell to the ground below. Lupin stared at the wound on his palm, at the crimson spring between scored black leather. "I concede," he said, in an odd voice that sounded almost grateful. A flash of azure flame, and Ren's other self vanished from sight.
