5/24 – Tuesday
After School
Ogikubo
"Trust me," Ryuji said for maybe the twentieth time that afternoon. "This place is worth the trip." Ogikubo struck Ren as not that unlike Shibuya, though everything seemed far more compact. Yet, quieter. Walking here, next to Ryuji, felt utterly lovely. Though, that might have just been his friend's presence.
"Of course I trust you," Ren laughed. Then, he paused. "You sure you're okay to walk this whole way? We can take a break if your leg starts to hurt again."
Ryuji waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, s'all good. Feeling a lot better since the other day. Besides, you've still got those painkillers on you, right?"
Ren nodded. "I think Mona fell asleep on the bottle, but I've got them." As if to punctuate the point, he felt the feline shift in his bag and let out a little snuffle-snore. "Not looking forward to having to wake him up."
"Yeah, well, tough," Ryuji replied with a chuckle. "If ya boy needs his pills, ya cat needs to chill."
Ren snickered. "Nice rhyme, you dork."
Ryuji looked about to fire back, but then his gaze fell on a sign in the near distance and his face lit up with a huge grin. "Oh hell yeah, here we go." He was almost bouncing up and down as he walked, so excited to reach his intended destination. "Come on, let's hook you up with some real goddamn ramen."
"Wasn't aware you were such a connoisseur," Ren teased.
Ryuji stuck out his tongue. "When it comes to this place, no con or sir'ing needed." He held open the door for Ren. "Uh. Fair warning though, it's a little cramped."
Ren scooted past Ryuji and took in the ramen shop's interior. There wasn't a single table or booth in sight, just a countertop between the small but bustling kitchen, and a dozen or so stools for customers. Barely a foot of room between the stools and the wall, enough for someone to squeeze past, but not very comfortably.
"Welcome!" shouted one of the cooks, a round and balding man with a greying goatee in the process of chopping a huge chunk of red meat. He glanced over at the teens and his eyes lit up. "Oh Sakamoto, is that you?"
"Heya Sabi!" Ryuji gently pushed Ren farther into the store. "Brought my best bud with me, wanted to show him the good stuff."
The man, Sabi, chortled. "The usual, then?"
"You know it, my dude!"
Ren gently placed his bag down between two stools and sat down, Ryuji plopping down next to him. "When you said you'd been coming here for years, I didn't expect first name basis."
"Yeah dude," Ryuji said. "I used to live, like, really close by. Sometimes I'd just head down to this place and chill for a while, not even buy anything, just sit at the booth and talk shit with Sabi." He paused. "Just had to get out of the house sometimes, you know?"
"Yeah," Ren replied. "I think know what that's like. It's..." He tried to figure out how best to articulate himself. "I think I felt trapped sometimes, I dunno. When I was young. Like I just needed somewhere to go. Anywhere but home." He shrugged. "Couldn't say why, I just wanted an out."
Ryuji nodded. "Same here. I mean, for me, I knew what the issue was." He opened his mouth to speak again, then closed it. His expression suddenly tense and he looked towards the countertop. "Yeah. Uh, sorry."
Ren was curious, but he let the issue lie. "You don't have to rush to tell me anything, you know," he said. "We're friends. I trust you, so, don't worry. You've got nothing to be sorry about."
Ryuji smiled. Ren could see him relax. "Dude, how do you always know what to say to cheer me up?"
Ren felt his cheeks heat up a bit, and he shrugged. "Maybe I'm just a genius, I dunno," he mumbled.
"Yeah," Ryuji chuckled. "Or, maybe it's just cause you're you." He let out a long breath. "It was my dad," he said. "He was – I dunno if I ever told you this before – he was always like...well, I guess he was a fine guy sometimes. Supported me and mom. Got me gifts for my birthday. Whatever."
"Bare minimum," Ren muttered.
Ryuji might not have heard him, but Ren did spy what might have been a nod from the jock. "But then sometimes he would just, like, explode. Start yelling at us. Throw things. Hit..." He trailed off. The boy, at a glance, looked empty. Like he was staring through the countertop. "Yeah. I couldn't handle that, so I would just book it. Somewhere, anywhere. Most of the time, here." He chuckled. "I used to be a hell of a coward. Leaving my mom alone with him."
Ren felt his chest ache, and he placed his hand over Ryuji's on the countertop. "Hey. You were a kid. That's..." He let out a short, frustrated breath through his nose. "It's fucked up you ever even had to deal with that in the first place. You're not a coward for wanting to leave."
Ryuji smiled, and closed his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He let out a long breath. "I'm better now though. He's gone, and my mom's safe, and I'm not running anymore." He chuckled. "In more ways than one, I guess."
"You're fighting," Ren added. "I think, like, little Ryuji would think you're probably think you're the coolest guy in the world."
Ryuji snorted. "Dude. Little me would think I'm a goddamn superhero." He paused, looking directly at Ren. "Thanks, dude. You're the best, you know?"
Ren couldn't help but look away, moving his hand off of Ryuji's to rub the back of his neck. "Hey, I try. Gotta be good to my friends." It felt...wonderful, being here, in this moment. But a little overwhelming, honestly. Desperate to change the subject, Ren cleared his throat. "Uh. You moved out of Ogikubo though right?"
"Oh, yeah." Ryuji seemed distracted by the story, slipping back into his normal parlance. "So, like, me and mom moved halfway through middle school, but I really started craving this place so I kept coming back whenever I had a chance. Sabi still makes the meanest bowl in Japan." He raised his voice to yell over the sound of the kitchen. "Hey Sabi, your shit is the best!"
The man, his back turned to the boys, raised his cleaver and waved it around with terrifying energy.
Ryuji burst out laughing. "Like, this place sort of tastes like home to me. Second only to mom's cooking, a' course."
"No kidding," Ren said. "That's...huh." A little pang in his chest. Like the ache of something missing.
"Sup?" Ryuji tilted his head, which Ren frankly thought was absolutely adorable.
"Oh, nothing, just like..." Ren rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm kinda jealous." He laughed. "I mean, when my parents would take me out to dinner, we'd have to drive like twenty minutes away. I never really had a place like this."
Ryuji nodded solemnly. "Well. You've got one now?"
Ren raised an eyebrow.
"I mean like," Ryuji stuttered over his words, "me casa you casa. Et cetera. You know?"
Ren couldn't help but burst out laughing. "I know, Ryuji. Thank you."
Ryuji punched Ren in the arm, but grinned. "Yeah man." He tapped his fingers against the countertop. "All mine is yours, you know. I mean – I mean, not literally, but–" Ryuji sighed, probably a little frustrated at his own lack of articulation. "You're my best friend, Ren. You saved my life. Like, you keep saving my life. If that makes any sense?" He shrugged. "When I think about my future now, you're always in it. I dunno what I want to do with my life except follow you, watch you fight and win and everything. You make me want to keep fighting." He cleared his throat, choking something down. "Yeah, uh. So if there's something I've got that you need? It's yours, man."
Ren tried very hard to fight back tears. "Ryuji," he said. "I don't need anything from you. Just you. If you're there with me, I'm happy."
Ryuji chuckled. "Oh, you sappy bitch." He reached over and grabbed Ren in an awkward sideways embrace, half falling off his seat.
"You started it!" Ren protested, laughing and shoving Ryuji back onto his own stool.
They laughed, together. And everything was good.
5/24 – Tuesday
Night
Cafe Leblanc
It was dark. "Ren?" came a little mewl from the fluffy feline currently laying on his chest.
"Mmhm?" he mumbled. Eyes closed, not quite asleep, but very comfortable. Warm. All warm and all comfy, like his insides were just one big blanket.
"You had a lot of fun with Ryuji today, right?" Morgana asked.
"Yeah," Ren said. He yawned. "It was great."
"I'm glad," the feline said. He didn't sound it. "Um. Do you think I could join you next time?"
"You want some ramen too? I could probably get you some to go–"
"No no, it's not about the ramen." Morgana sighed. "I just. I don't know. Never mind."
Ren paused. Words tilted across his tongue, too sleepy to give them much thought. "You're not a burden, Mona."
Morgana shifted on his stomach. "I never said I was," he grumbled.
"And you're not useless. You're Morgana. One and only." Ren smiled, eyes still closed. "You're my friend."
Morgana didn't make any sound for a little while. "Ren," he said finally, "do you think I'm a good teammate? Do you need me?"
"I need you," Ren replied. "I couldn't do what I do without you. It wouldn't be me. No Joker without Mona."
"No Joker without Mona," the feline repeated. "Even..." He hesitated. "If I'm not human. If we can't find a way to change me back, if I'm just a cat forever. Will I still be your friend?"
"Do you still want to be my friend?" Ren asked.
Morgana paused. "I want that," he said.
"Then we're friends. If you're a cat, or a human, or something else entirely. If you're you, then we're us."
"Always?"
"Always," Ren confirmed.
Morgana made a little sniffly noise. "If I'm your Mona," he mumbled. "You're my Ren. Right?"
Ren wanted to reply, but no words left his lips. Too soft. Too comfortable. But from somewhere inside him came a little sound like "yeah."
Silence. "Goodnight, Ren."
Ren's last thoughts before slumber were that Morgana sounded happy. And then, he slept.
5/25 – Wednesday
After School
Shujin Academy
"Before we begin," Maruki said, "I just want to let you know that I called your guardian after our session last week, to make sure that you were doing alright."
Ren nodded. "He mentioned that to me, yeah."
"I'm not sure what he said," he continued, "but I want to assure you that I disclosed absolutely nothing about what you've told–" A moment of hesitation. "Or shown to me. Only that it was a rather intense session and I wanted to make sure you were safe."
That...huh. Ren wasn't quite sure he completely believed Maruki, but the man's words seemed genuine. "I'm safe," he said.
"I don't doubt it." Maruki smiled. "Mister, uh, Sakura told me that you were handling yourself extremely well. He said he was going to check in with you."
"Yeah." Ren ran his hand across the couch's leather armrest, fingers idling on the pleasant texture. "He did. I told him I'm doing a lot better, and I aced my exam and stuff–"
"Oh!" Maruki said. "Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off. Congratulations though."
Ren laughed. "Thanks. Uh, yeah. I'm doing better. And Sojiro said I've been working really hard, so he's happy I guess. That was it, really."
Maruki looked like he wanted to pry further, but didn't. "What would you like to work on today, Ren?"
He shrugged. "Remembering more, I think. I still feel like I'm forgetting important stuff, and I'm doing okay now, so we can just work on that."
The therapist paused. He reached down and plucked a juicebox up off the table, taking a long contemplative sip from it. "I'm perfectly happy to do that with you," he said finally. "But I want to make something clear first, if that's alright."
"Okay," Ren said. Not quite sure what the guy was on about, but whatever.
"Last week," Maruki began, "you unearthed an incredibly painful memory. You've done a very good job of adjusting back to a normal emotional state, which is wonderful, but..." He seemed a little like he was having trouble articulating himself. "There are a couple ways of doing this, I suppose. Delving directly into memories associated with traumatic incidents, those most likely to be repressed, will nearly always be painful." He leaned back against his couch. "At best, it will probably still feel severely uncomfortable. But it's very likely to cause more intense reactions, similar to what you went through last week."
Ren instinctively moved his right hand to his left, massaging his wrist.
"However," Maruki hurriedly added, "there are ways to avoid that pain. If you simply want to remember, the most direct route would be dissociative exposure therapy. But I would recommend something more beneficial to your longterm mental health, taking the time to–"
Longterm mental health be damned. "Dissociative exposure therapy," Ren interrupted. "What's that?"
Maruki took a deep breath. "It's, um." He put the juice box down on the table. "So last week, you ran into a situation where an everyday interaction brought up a particularly painful memory. Like a little thread that was poking out of a scar." He curled his nose. "That's sort of a gross association."
Ren laughed. "Yeah, but it fits. Keep going please."
"Alright," Maruki said with a little smile. "So, at that point, you'd already tied that memory to your current life. It was affecting you directly." He cupped his hands together like he was holding a ball. "When we pulled on that thread, that pain you felt way long ago bubbled back up into your 'right now.' It felt, to you, like it was something that had just happened. Would you say that's accurate?"
"Yeah," Ren replied. "I guess so."
"Dissociation," Maruki continued, "is something that you probably already do when things like this happen; when you have to face bad memories or current trauma. In order to avoid emotional pain, you take yourself–" He pulled his hands apart, wiggling the fingers of his right hand," –outside of yourself." Maruki wiggled the fingers of his left hand now. Then, he pointed to his left with his right. "And you look in on that memory, that pain, as if it were happening to someone else. That disconnect prevents you from being overwhelmed by pain, keeps you emotionally safe while still addressing something that happened to you."
Ren furrowed his brow and brought his hand to his chin, thinking that over. "So," he said, "dissociative exposure would be, like, trying to remember stuff, but like it was someone else's memories?"
"Yep. That's exactly it." Maruki held his hands together in his lap. "Again, this can negatively impact your emotional well-being later down the road. Dissociation will create an emotional barrier between yourself and the memory here, as we delve into whatever you went through, but that barrier doesn't last long and associations can linger far longer. I would recommend a more roundabout route towards recollection. Primarily, setting up grounding techniques and anchors to keep you from drifting back into traumatic memories or emotionally spiraling from trauma triggers."
That last sentence went mostly over Ren's head, but he felt he got the gist of what Maruki was implying. Dissociating his way through his memories would keep him safe, but could bring up something that would make him panic later, when he wasn't dissociating. It'd be safer to wait, to work on whatever techniques Maruki could teach him.
Did Ren have that sort of time?
"Guess I'm pretty impatient," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Cause, uh, I think I'd really rather the whole dissociative thing."
Maruki nodded slowly. He looked not quite disappointed – worried, maybe? "Alright. I don't know if we have enough time to get deep into a memory today, but we can do a bit of, say, prep work for next week. Sound good to you?"
"Mhm." Ren shifted on the couch, getting a little more comfortable.
"Some more breathing, to start." Maruki took an exaggerated deep breath, and Ren mimicked him. In and out. Inhalation, exhalation. "Now. Can you pick one particular thing you'd like help remembering? Is there a specific point in your life that you've forgotten, or something about a specific person?"
The photograph, with three unknown Thieves and an implied fourth, came to mind. "I had some friends," Ren said. "A while back, I guess. I just sort of remember them as my friends, but I don't know their names. Faces, kind of. And I don't remember spending any time with them."
It sounded stupid, saying it out loud, but Maruki nodded along just the same. "Keep on breathing with me, please." Inhalation, exhalation. "Let's focus on those faces for now. Close your eyes." Ren did. "Can you imagine them in your head?"
Orange-red ponytails, freckles against pale skin. Round cheeks, blushed, warm eyes under a wide hat. Buzzed-short hair, a sharp gaze through red plastic-glass. Ren nodded.
"Good, good." A momentary silence. "Setting up a safe dissociative state doesn't mean complete numbness, to be clear. The goal is to be able to face emotion, as intense or painful as it may be, and treat it systematically. It is a thing that is occurring, and you notice how it makes you feel, and then let it go away."
Eyes still closed, Ren furrowed his brow. "How do I do that? How do I just...make it not affect me?"
"In this moment," Maruki said," and for only this moment, try to see your body and mind as something separate from you. Your heart, or your soul, whatever makes up you is now a thing outside yourself. It is moving away, a little farther every second. Still connected, still tethered, but outside and not within. It is looking in on your body like through a window, like you would peer into your home from the front yard." It felt sort of like drifting, listening to his words. Like sitting on a boat, slowly rocked by the waves. Pushing him further back, further away from the cough in the office. "Now, how do you feel?"
"I feel," Ren said, and his mouth moved, lips and tongue and teeth forming words, "like I'm not me. Or, like I am me but I'm not in me."
"Wiggle your fingers please?"
It took him a few seconds to figure out how to do that again, but he did.
Maruki paused once more. "Are you still imagining the faces?"
"Yes."
"How many are there?"
"Three," Ren's lips replied. "There are four people I don't know; but three faces. And other people I do know. And me."
"You all know each other?" Maruki asked.
"We're all friends," Ren agreed.
"That fourth person you don't know," Maruki said. "Can you remember anything about them?"
Something faint. An implication more than a full recollection. Something sharp, acrid. An echo like thunder, his finger curled around metal. A boy in black, falling. Blood.
Ren opened his eyes, and gave a plastic smile. "Sorry. I'm pretty sure that's all of it."
5/25 – Wednesday
Evening
Takemi Medical Clinic
"Sorry I'm late," Ren said again. It'd been an odd journey back to Yongen-Jaya, his head still fuzzy from his earlier therapy session, and he'd missed his stop twice.
"You don't need to keep apologizing," Takemi replied. Tap tap tap at the keyboard, as per usual. Maybe Ren was still out of it, but the doctor seemed...different. Especially considering how happy she'd been at the end of their last meeting. Something on her mind now, maybe?
"Uh," he started, but she cut him off before he could ask.
"Oh, shit." She let out a quick, frustrated sigh. "That's right. I completely forgot to check in with you again before today, I'd written down to do that."
"It's cool," he replied. "I was pretty busy, so I probably wouldn't have had time to answer you anyway."
Takemi gave him an odd look. "I wouldn't really refer to physician negligence as 'cool,' but...I guess you do you, kid." She spun her chair to face him. "Did you have a chance to look at the information I sent you?"
Ren tried to keep from blanching. "I...skimmed it." In his internal defense, there had been a lot going on last week.
She sighed. "Well, I had been a little worried some of those terms might have gone over your head. You could have just asked me to explain them, though."
Oh? Oh! Yeah, being too dumb to understand a few articles was much better than being too dumb to even remember to read them. "Yeah. Uh, sorry."
Takemi shrugged. "I don't mind taking the time to explain them now." She opened her mouth to continue and the door to the exam room opened.
Ren glanced over his shoulder to see a man in a white cap and navy-blue uniform, standing in the doorway. A police officer. He felt his heart stop in his chest.
"Do you mind?" Takemi said. "I'm in the middle of an examination, you can't just barge in here."
"Actually," the man said, his eyes narrow, arms crossed, "Miss Tae Takemi, I think you'll find that I can." A sneer on his lip. "We've received a complaint that you've been selling illegal narcotics to your patients. I'm going to need to–"
"Oh, that." She laughed. Ren turned back to Takemi; the officer was here for her? "A complaint from one Kuse Matsuda, yes? I had a feeling he might try to cause trouble." She was smiling, like absolutely nothing was wrong. Takemi leaned back in her chair and picked a large folder of papers off her desk, holding it out. "Here you are. An itemized list of every substance that the Takemi Clinic is licensed to carry. While my medication is unique synthesized compounds, a chemical analysis on any of that medication would show nothing out of line."
The police officer muttered something under his breath, and crossed the room – making Ren nearly flinch out of his skin – to grab the folder from Takemi. He opened it up and skimmed through it.
"I would honestly suggest looking into Mister Matsuda," Takemi continued in a sickly-sweet voice. "I don't blame him for believing any of the rumors about me, but what sort of innocent businessman demands psychotropics from an informed consent clinic?"
"We'll take that under advisement," the cop said, a barely contained fury clear in his tone. He shoved the folder back into Takemi's hands. "Plague." With that, he turned and left the room.
Takemi waved to him, but as soon as he slammed the exam room door shut, the smile dropped off her face. "Piece of shit," she grumbled, slamming the folder back onto her desk. "Can't believe that pig, threatening me in front of my patient. I should drag him back in here–"
"Please," Ren choked out. He felt his heart was going to explode. He clutched at his shirt. "Please don't."
Through the haze of lightheadedness, he could vaguely see Takemi's gaze turn towards him. "Woah," she said. "Ren, you look like you're going to throw up, are you okay?"
"I, I, I," Ren stuttered, "I've got...a record. I thought he was–"
Takemi gasped. Then, her posture stiffened "Okay. Hold on." She spun her chair around, pulling open a desk drawer and rifling through its contents.
"Ren?" came Morgana's concerned mewl from his bag. "Deep breaths, remember? Like Maruki told you."
Ren sucked in as much as his lungs could hold, tried to hold it. And immediately coughed it right back out.
"No, no," Takemi said. "Trying to force yourself calm doesn't get you through a panic attack, kid, that'll only make it worse."
"Then," he spluttered through his hyperventilation, "what will?" His chest was about two seconds away from tearing itself open to forcibly expel his heart.
"Let it pass," she said. Then, she spun her chair around again, popping the top off a vial half-full of odd clear fluid. "And, sniff this." Takemi held the vial out to him at arm's length.
It felt utterly asinine, but Ren leaned towards the vial, trying to control his breathing for long enough to take a whiff. Immediately, he recoiled as a scent like overpowering fermentation hit his nose. "What the fuck!?" He gagged, shoving his hands over his mouth to keep from–
And he was fine. Ren blinked. His hands still over his mouth, his heart still beating a little faster in his chest, a little lingering adrenaline still running through him. But otherwise, completely calm.
Takemi, pushing the cap back into her strange vial, looked so very smug.
"Better?" she asked, a playful lilt to her voice.
"What the fuck," Ren repeated, "was that?"
"Oh, just a little something I whipped up." She turned around and put the vial back into the drawer. "For emergencies. I'd always meant to make a less concentrated form, but I guess I got sidetracked."
"Ren?" Morgana whisper-mewled. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," he whispered back. Then he cleared his throat. "I'm, uh. Sorry for freaking out. We probably don't have a whole lot of time now, right?"
Takemi gave him an odd look. Then she glanced towards the computer. "Oh," she said in a flat voice. "Looks like I ended up scheduling you for a half hour longer than usual. Whoops. Guess we've got plenty of time." Then, she smirked at Ren and winked.
He didn't know what to say. "Uh."
"Don't thank me, kid," she laughed. "It's nothing."
Ren paused. "Would it be...too ungrateful to ask if you could make some of that, uh, less concentrated medicine thing for me? Honestly, it's sounding better every second." He massaged his chest over his heart, which still sort of ached. If he panicked like this in a Palace...
Takemi raised an eyebrow. "Kid, I don't know how easy you think making new medication is, but...even if I were to finish something like that quickly, I still wouldn't sell it to you. Ethicality aside, any prototype like that would be crazy expensive–"
"How much?" he asked. "Please."
She glared at him for cutting her off. Takemi opened her mouth, but then closed it again. Her gaze softened. "If," she said, "you tell me what you have a record for. I'll see what I can do. Is that acceptable for you, Mister Amamiya?"
Ren nodded. "Uh." He hadn't thought about that night in more than a month. Not since he'd told Ryuji in that Shibuya beef bowl shop. "I...there was a woman. She was getting harassed by some guy, and I tried help her, and the guy fell over and busted his face. He said I pushed him."
Takemi nodded, her expression neutral. "Did you?"
Ren stared at the flooe. "I don't remember. It was...dark. I was scared. I don't remember."
She was quiet for a moment. "Two weeks," she said.
"Huh?" He glanced up towards her, towards the slight smile on her face.
"I'll schedule our next meeting for two weeks. Then, if I'm finished with the anti-panic medication, I'll give it to you then. If I'm not, I won't charge you for the checkup. Sound good to you?"
Ren found himself smiling too. "That sounds great to me."
5/26 – Thursday
Midnight
Cafe Leblanc
Leblanc, as always, smelled like coffee and sounded like nothing. The lights were on. Maybe Sojiro was at the counter. Ren stared down at the chess board on the table in front of him. It seemed to swim in his eyes, not quite solid, not quite fluid. Like gelatin. He moved a pawn one space forward. Then he looked towards his opponent, a swirling mass of black fabric and two orange-red eyes. Ren felt like there should have been someone else there, across from him in the booth...but maybe not. Hard to say.
"I am rather disappointed," the mass said, in a distinctly French accent, "that you did not take the time to contact me. Especially since those twins so kindly provided you such an easy means of doing so."
Ren shrugged, and the motion sent a visible ripple through the air. "I hadn't decided on if I really wanted to speak to you, Lupin. Considering you might just throw a tantrum and try to stab me in the throat."
Lupin's glare, his eyes glowing bright amidst the his otherwise dark form. "I might still run you through, boy."
"And end up killing yourself in the process? An egomaniac like you?" Ren laughed. "Love to see you try." It felt odd, being here. Fearless. Safe beyond safe. Maybe, confident?
Lupin stared him down. Then, those orange eyes lowered. A black shape like a tendril extended, and moved a knight across the board. "Tell me. I failed to strike down that demon lord, Azazel, within his Palace. Why do you think that is?"
Ren studied the board as best as he could with the entire world as structurally unstable as it was. "Twofold," he replied. "You had to draw your power from me, and I ran out of juice before you could finish the job."
"As I thought–"
"And," Ren interrupted him. He slid a bishop from one near-corner to the other. "You shoved yourself into a battle of attrition without knowing my limits. You didn't back out when your 'battery' started running low."
Lupin hesitated. "You would have acted differently?"
"Gee," Ren said. "Maybe all we had was brute force from one outlet, I guess you're right. Sure would have been nice if there were three other Persona users just sitting around ready to fight too."
The boy said nothing for a short moment. Then, he moved a knight again, taking one of Ren's rooks. "Weaklings can only do so much."
"Even if that was the case," Ren replied, "how well do you think Madarame would be able to focus on defending against you with three people kicking him in the shins?" After a moment's hesitation, he took Lupin's knight with a bishop.
Lupin shifted. "He might have attacked them. Did you not tell them to get behind you, so you could protect them?" Knight takes bishop.
"Protect them from you, yeah," Ren said. Pawn forward one.
"I can control my own power, boy." Knight back, out of danger.
"Can you? Then control it enough to not berserk yourself into exhaustion." Bishop to the right wall.
"Perhaps you should simply be stronger." Knight to the right, ready to take bishop.
Ren shook his head. "We've established this." Pawn forward one, guarding bishop. "I'm going to improve my own stamina, but you still need to know my limits."
"State your limits clearer, then." Knight to its previous position.
"This coming from the king of communication?" Rook forward four spaces. "I'll get right on that."
Lupin scoffed. "You've yet to prove yourself worthy of my power. Why should I do what you tell me?" Knight forward.
"You're looking at this the wrong way. I don't have to call on your power at all." Pawn defends rook.
"You're implying what, exactly?" Lupin asked. Knight stalls. Retreats.
Queen slips between two pawns. Faces down knight. Faces down king, behind knight. "That I can win without you. The Phantom Thieves don't need Arsene."
Lupin's fingers on the knight, then up, then back again. His grip shook. "Pass," he said. "No moves."
Queen takes knight. "Checkmate."
Lupin leaned back in the booth, letting out a long puff of black smoke, swirling and spiraling in the air. "Your heart is set, then? You will fight Azazel alone?"
Ren smirked. "Not alone."
He could see, maybe, a smile within that dark silhouette. "Yes. I suppose not." He leaned over and swept the pieces off the chessboard. "Show me then, Joker. Put on a worthy show and I will reward you accordingly." Lupin's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Show me how strong you really are."
