6/15 – Wednesday
After School
Shujin Academy

Ren couldn't say that any of his schemes as a Phantom Thief had gone "wrong," necessarily. Unfortunately tending towards improvisation, but he couldn't think of one that he truly regretted. As such, he had a fair amount of confidence that this plan wouldn't go badly either. That still didn't much make him feel very comfortable with it. Not out of fear, just...embarrassment.

He waited probably three minutes in the silent classroom, standing in front of his homeroom teacher's desk, waiting for her to notice him. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Miss Kawakami?"

Her gaze snapped up, blinking at him, even that movement looking a little stilted. "Oh," she said, looking sort of relieved by his presence, "Amamiya. What is it?"

"I'm having a little trouble with my homework–" he began.

"Then ask the teacher who assigned it." Kawakami's reply wasn't particularly cruel, just tired. Exhausted. Like she was speaking more from the bags under her eyes than her actual head.

If it was just for him, Ren would have bailed right there. But for the Thieves, he'd stick it out. "I tried. Ushimaru threw a piece of chalk at me." Not technically a lie, but it was bending the truth quite a bit. The teacher had nearly beaned him a couple days ago, but that was for texting in class. That being said, Ushimaru's 'office hours' were notorious freshman traps; anyone dumb enough to try and get his help would get yelled out of the building for their troubles.

"Oh," she said, voice suddenly low. "Of course. Should have figured." Kawakami sighed and checked her watch. "I've got to be out of here in a half hour. I can help you out till then. Deal?"

"Deal," Ren replied. Thirty minutes wasn't much, but it was far better than nothing. He pulled Ushimaru's latest worksheet from his bag and handed it to Kawakami. "Could you please double check I'm not missing anything? I keep feeling like I'm getting these questions wrong, but I don't know for sure."

"Hm," she said, and took the sheet, spinning it around on her desk and then reading through it, eyes flickering across the page, brow furrowed.

Ren had figured Kawakami might know about Zebul, and that it might be easier to ask her under false pretenses. Especially if she was a little distracted, and not fully paying attention to her own answers. He felt awful for using something like that against her for information, but he swallowed that shame and cleared his throat. "So," he said, as naturally as he could manage, "could I actually ask you for some advice?"

"Mhm." Kawakami's gaze never left the page.

"It's about one of my friends," Ren said, "they just got offered a job and–"

"Which one?"

Ren blinked at her. "Sorry?"

Kawakami glanced up at him. "Which one of your friends? Sakamoto, Takamaki?"

Oh. Oh, fuck that. "Uh," Ren said, brain desperately spinning in his head, "me? Me, actually. Sorry."

She looked back towards the sheet, gesturing with one hand to continue.

"So, uh, I got offered a job," Ren continued, trying to keep his story straight while his heart pounded in his ears. "And it pays way better than the part time job I have right now, but it seems kinda sketchy."

Kawakami didn't raise her gaze, but she seemed to stiffen. "Sketchy how?" she asked.

Ren wasn't exactly sure how to answer that; he stalled.

"Makoto said Zebul was getting students to transport packages," Morgana whispered, "and do manual labor."

Ren mentally thanked the feline for the reminder. "The guy said I just had to move some stuff around? Like deliver some boxes, and help out some people at a local warehouse or something. And he was really pushy, like he asked me about my friends a lot–"

"Don't take the job." Kawakami's tone froze Ren's tongue completely. No doubt in his mind, this wasn't idle worry. She knew, and she sounded absolutely furious about it. "Those people aren't worth the money. Don't give them the time of day – in fact don't tell them a damn thing. Not about you or your friends. Just ignore them and move on."

"How do you know they're dangerous?" Ren forced himself to ask. He wanted to leave, to escape the intensity of his teacher's emotion, but he hadn't gotten what he came for. Not yet.

Kawakmi looked like she was about to reply, but she didn't. She just stared down at the worksheet, something bitter yet empty in her expression. "You don't seem stupid or desperate enough to fall for a fat paycheck, Amamiya. So I can only assume you plan on meddling. If it'll keep you out of trouble, I'll tell you this much: that gang chews up people and spits them out. Chews up kids..." She chuckled, and there was no humor in it. "I'd honestly welcome the Phantom Thieves' help at this point, assuming they exist. Shibuya PD hasn't done squat, Kobayakawa refuses to act, and no one's speaking up. Sort of fucked on all possible angles here."

Ren just stared at the woman. This was a side of his teacher he hadn't really expected to see, her opening up the way she was now. It was...honestly sort of unnerving. Probably for the best, but it was definitely weird.

She sighed. "Look, just, whatever you do, try to keep yourself and Sakamoto and Takamaki safe, okay? These are gang members, real yakuza wannabes. You mess with them, they're not gonna call the cops on you, they're going to go after you themselves. You get that, right?"

Ren nodded. "I get it. I won't endanger myself, or my friends." Getting involved at all was a definite risk, but he had no plans on wagering anyone's safety.

Kawakami didn't seem quite satisfied with his answer, but she didn't press the issue. "Here," she said, handing back his worksheet. "As far as I can tell, you didn't do anything wrong, but you'd probably only get a B if you turned just that in. Ushimaru's a sucker for explaining your answers in detail; do that well, and you'll get pretty high marks even if your answer ends up being wrong."

"Gotcha," he replied. "Thanks, Miss." Ren tucked the worksheet back next to Morgana, who seemed deep in thought, and turned to leave.

"One more thing," Kawakami said.

"Uh huh?" Ren couldn't help but get a little nervous.

"I get that you and Sakamoto are all doe-eyed," she began, smirking at him, "but please tell him to stop rushing to flirt with you until class is actually over. If he bursts in here one more time at five minutes till, I am going to give him detention."

Ren felt his face heat up. "Yep," he squeaked, before clearing his throat. "I'll let him know."

"You do that," she said, in an almost lyrical voice, then waved. "Ciao, kid."


Ren tried to think of his session with Maruki last week as he walked to the man's office, and felt he was missing something. Maruki had insisted on more preliminary exercises, more practice into anchoring and grounding and whatever other terms he had used that Ren had forgotten. Ren wasn't really impatience at that, but...just sort of an itch for momentum. A desire to keep moving forward. And he was really hoping that Maruki could continue provide as much.

"I'm sorry," Maruki said, nearly immediately after Ren sat down on the couch across from him. "But I think we'll have to put our dissociative therapy on hold for the moment." He did look sorry, a small smile on his face that didn't distract much from whatever mixed emotion his eyes were conveying.

Ren's lips moved before his mind could process. "Did I do something wrong?"

Maruki shook his head. "No no no, not at all! This isn't a punishment, I'm going to be temporarily suspending all such treatments for a little while. We'll most likely be able to resume it in the future, but I..." He paused. Mulling something over in his head. "Well, I need some time to think about the way I treat memory loss in my patients. I don't feel it's caused any harm yet, but I guess you could say that I'm worried that it could cause harm. Remembering aspects of a traumatic event before knowing the full context can be potentially incredibly detrimental to the healing process."

Ren twisted a lock of hair around his finger as he thought that over. Considering Maruki had shown similar reluctance last week, this had probably been something on his mind for a little while. Could something he said be the cause? One of his memories he'd dredged up previously, or–

Oh. Ren wasn't Maruki's only patient. And last week Kasumi had been in a haze after her meeting, struggling with knowing where the memories were lacking, but not knowing why. He felt kind of gross for prying, but curiosity and concern in equal measure won out. "So," he said, "uh, I know this is kind of a weird question, and I get that confidentiality is a thing, but...was this, like, brought up by a patient?"

Maruki gave him an odd look. "This worry wasn't brought up by you, if that's what you're asking."

Ren shook his head. "I'm actually asking about someone else," he admitted. "Kasumi and I are friends, and I want to make sure she's doing okay."

Maruki's eyebrows practically shot off his forehead. "Oh!" Then, he burst out laughing. "I see, I see. Well you're right to bring up confidentiality, and I'll have to decline to answer your question when it comes to Miss Yoshizawa. If Kasumi wishes to share with you, that is absolutely her prerogative, but I'm not going to disclose any details about her treatment or her current state without her explicit consent. Since she hasn't given me permission to freely share any our sessions, I have to assume that she wants to keep every aspect of our conversations private."

Ren didn't exactly know how to respond to that. "Okay," he said, simply. "Sorry for prying, I didn't realize..." He should have, though. He wasn't sure why he'd even asked in the first place, he should have known better.

"Nothing wrong with asking, Ren," Maruki assured. "Some answers are worth asking even if you don't get an answer you like."

He thought that over. Made sense, he kinda liked the idea.

"That being said," Maruki said with another sympathetic smile, "if you wish to put our sessions on hold for the time being, until I give myself the go-ahead to continue working through your repressed memories, I absolutely understand that."

Hm. Ren had come here to remember in the first place. But that wasn't all Maruki could offer him, right? Just having someone to talk to, outside of all this insanity, might be kind of nice. "I'm good," Ren said, "I'd like to keep doing these meetings, even if they're not about remembering stuff."

Maruki's smile was a lot wider, a lot more honest. "Thank you, Ren," he said, gratitude clear in his voice. Then he cleared his throat. "So, anything in particular on your mind today?"

Ren hesitated. Decision paralysis yet again; there was far too much in his life that deserved to be spoken, to be vented. But out of all of it, the current investigations and Oxymoron and the SRU, he found himself thinking of Ryuji. "Uh, I think I'm in love?"

Maruki nodded, still smiling. "Go on."

"He's like...he's my best friend, so that makes it weird. And he's kinda clueless, which is probably good because apparently I'm really bad at hiding that I've got feelings for him." He couldn't help but laugh. "I guess that's probably for the best, I really don't know if I'm ready for him to find out yet."

"Hm," Maruki replied. "Why is that?"

Ren struggled to articulate. "I mean, I'm scared of getting fucked over, that's sort of obvious–" And he immediately cut himself off at Maruki's expression. Not angry, nor surprised, just...sort of sad. Like a painful reminder. Ren cleared his throat. "I mean I'm not...I don't think he'll hurt me. I trust him, and he's been nothing but good to me so far. I guess I can't help..." Ren sighed, frustrated, trying to make the words flow like he wanted them to. "I can't help being scared of that. Even if I know he won't hurt me, I'm scared he will. Or that I'll end up hurting him, or making him hate me. Whatever. But, uh, I guess it's more than just that? I'm scared of even just telling him, like I'll disgust him somehow or it'll mean we can't be friends. I dunno, it's stupid, but it probably wouldn't be so bad if he were the one to tell me, I think."

"Opening up can be frightening," Maruki agreed. "So, if you don't mind me making sure we're on the same page?" Ren nodded, a silent go-ahead. "You're concerned about being that vulnerable with him, regardless of how well that goes, even if he does immediately reciprocate your attraction." Ren nodded again "And on top of that," he continued, "you're concerned that if you do end up getting into a relationship, that one of you will end up hurting the other."

"I guess," Ren replied. "I know he'd forgive me if I fuck up, and I'd forgive him for his fuck-ups too, we're both pretty chill like that."

Maruki nodded. "In that case, would you say you have a fear of him abandoning you? Of forming an intimate bond with someone only to be left behind?"

"Huh," he said. Ren didn't even know how to process that, really. He just sat in it, let that truth spin around his head like lint in a dryer spin cycle. "Yeah," he said, finally, "that sounds like it might be right." He shifted on the couch. "I think I want to tell him anyway. I'm scared, but I want to."

"Then," Maruki said with a little smile, "I think you know best, Ren."


6/15
Evening
Aoyama-Itchome, Subway

"Ren," Morgana began – partway through the train ride back to Shibuya – then he stopped abruptly. "Never mind."

"You sure?" Ren asked. He adjusted himself slightly on the train seat, bag on his lap, making sure Morgana had enough room to poke his head out if he wished. "Even if it's silly, you can tell me whatever you like. I promise I won't judge."

Morgana was silent for a little while, quiet and stationary in his bag. "When you were talking to Maruki about someone you had a crush on," he said, finally, "were you talking about Ryuji?"

Ren wouldn't lie, obviously, he'd already sworn that much to himself. But that didn't make it any easier to admit the truth. "Yeah," he said, after another little silence, "I was."

"I see," Morgana replied, a little sharpness to his tone. Then the feline went silent again.

"Is that all right with you?" Ren asked.

"Doesn't matter," came the immediate reply from within the bag.

Ren frowned. "It matters to me."

"It's fine," Mona said. It didn't sound fine. "Not like I can choose who you like."

Ren considered his response, letting the movement of the train car rock him back and forth, staring out the far window. "Hypothetically," he said after a little while, "if you were to have a concern, what might that concern be?"

Morgana didn't say anything for a very long time. "He's a jerk," he said, his voice full of irritation. "He's rude and mean and he teases too much and he doesn't like me."

Ren opened his mouth to argue, but then he closed it again. It wasn't critique, and it wasn't judgement. There was something else there Mona wasn't saying. "Would it be okay if I asked him to fix that behavior?" Ren asked. "We could work with him and tell him to be nicer."

Morgana adjusted in the bag. "No, it's not...he's..." And he let out a long frustrated growl. "You'd still be leaving me alone after that!" And then the feline went quiet. "You'd have someone better than me," he muttered, "and you wouldn't need me anymore. I'd just be your dumb cat."

Ren's chest tightened and ached, and he wrapped his arms tight around the bag. "I wouldn't leave you," he said, as soft as he could manage. "And I won't. I promised you I'd stay, and I'm going to keep that promise. You're my best friend, and I don't wanna lose you."

Mona was quiet for another little bit. "If I asked you to choose," he said, "between being my friend or Ryuji's boyfriend, which would you pick?"

Ren sighed. "Mona, that's not fair. Please..." He hesitated, he didn't know what to say. "I wouldn't choose," he said. "I can't choose. I love him, and I love you, and I want to be your friend and his boyfriend. I'm not going to put either of you above each other."

The feline was silent, considering that. "Okay," he mumbled. "Okay. I still...I don't like it, I think you're better than him, and he's still kind of a jerk. But I won't make you choose. I don't wanna be a bad friend."

"You're a wonderful friend," Ren said, smiling. "And thank you." He unzipped the bag just enough to reach inside and pet Mona's head. And he could feel the not-a-cat purring, just a little.


6/15 – Wednesday
Evening
Shibuya Station Square

"I wish I had something better for you to do," Yoshida said, apologetically.

"No worries," Ren replied, adjusting the white-cardboard sign in his hands – 'Toranosuke Yoshida for Diet,' it read. "You didn't expect me to offer help." Yoshida had texted him that he was planning to deliver another speech, if Ren would be interested. Ren was, but more in assisting the man than simply listening.

"I most certainly did not," the man said, adjusting the green and red band across his chest. "I appreciate it very much though. Next time...ah, if there is a next time, I'll be sure to find something better worth your time."

Ren shook his head. "I'm fine to just hold this."

Morgana scoffed, poking his head out of the bag – a little to the side, to keep him from being underfoot – and sticking out his tongue at Ren. "You look like a dingus."

Ren sent him a playful glare, and the feline ducked back into his bag, giggling mischievously. Then, he turned back to Yoshida, whose expression was both thankful and concerned. "I'm fine," he repeated, a little more emphatically. "Go speech."

Yoshida laughed, a deep and resonant sound. "Of course, of course," he replied. "I'm very grateful." He stepped onto a small wooden block, adjusting himself, and then cleared his throat. "People of Japan!" His voice immediately echoed across the square. A few passersby looked his way, but no one seemed to give him much attention. Ren was definitely the only on who'd showed up here specifically for the speech. "I thank you for your time, attention and consideration. For we stand together at the crossroads of social change, and it is vital that we continue to forge forward and cease our own regressive tendencies! We should not fear change, nor should we fear our own politicians – the members of the Diet are not above reproach, and they should be held accountable for their broken promises. Profit has no place in politics, and we should never settle–"

"Oh shove it!" someone yelled from across the courtyard. Ren couldn't see who, they were in the midst of a crowd of businessmen heading towards the station.

"You gonna keep lecturing us, No-Good Tora!?" came another voice from within the throng.

Yoshida's mouth hung open, caught on a word. Ren stared at him, waiting for his next word, hoping for a reply. But none came. The man was speechless. And his audience dispersed. Just like that, the speech was over.

"I apologize once again," Yoshida said. Far quieter than he had been before the speech. "You came all the way out here, and I couldn't even..."

"It's fine," Ren replied. He handed the sign back to the man, and picked up his bag, Morgana within making a little surprised murp at the movement. Ren probably couldn't hide his disappointment, but he wasn't upset at Yoshida himself.

Yoshida shook his head. "It isn't. People like that are always going to hold my past over my head, it isn't right to freeze up like I did. I should have far more conviction than I do."

His past. "I thought 'No-Good Tora' might have been a spur of the moment thing?"

"It wasn't." Yoshida solemnly removed the band across his chest, folding it in half and then half again, tucking it away in his pocket. "You wouldn't happen to have heard of the Kuramoto Children, would you?"

The golden fountain pen in Oxymoron's parcel, with the name on its tip. "I think so," Ren said, slowly, "but I don't remember where."

Yoshida was silent for a time, seeming to be gathering his thoughts. "I think it was around twenty years ago," he said. "Iwata Kuramoto was a Diet Member at the time, and a very prominent one. It wasn't uncommon for his decisions to drive others to cross party lines in order to vote with him, he was quite a charismatic figure." A smile on his face, sort of nostalgic. "Near the end of his career, he extended both vocal and financial support towards a number of up-and-coming young politicians. The soon to be Kuramoto Children. I was one of them."

Ren raised an eyebrow. He honestly hadn't expected that.

Yoshida burst out laughing. "You look surprised. Didn't expect me to be a former Diet Member?"

"Uh," Ren said. "There's no good answer to that question."

"Spoken like a true politician," Yoshida teased. Then he cleared his throat. "But I am. A former Diet Member, that is. And, well, I made quite a fool of myself there. I was inexperienced, caught up in my own success and Kuramoto's blessing. I made so many mistakes." He was quiet, for another moment. "One of my friends in the Diet was accused of embezzlement, at one point. And I defended him immediately, calling the accusations slanderous, waging my own reputation on his innocence. And yet, less than a month later, that man resigned and confessed to embezzlement, and worse."

"Ah," Ren said.

"From there," Yoshida continued, "the other Kuramoto Children had to distance themselves from me, or else they would be damned to the same sinking boat. So, No-Good Tora was born. And I was pressured into resignation soon after. Unfortunately, the epithet stuck, and my political career became null and void from that point onward."

Ren wasn't sure what to say. He reached up and twisted a lock of hair around his fingers. "Uh, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but...why keep trying to get elected now? If everything went so bad for you then."

The man seemed to consider his words. "I stopped trying, for a while. Ten years in retirement. My wife and I repaired our marriage, I helped support my daughter in her own struggles, and I made as much time as I could for my grandchild." He sighed. "I told them I wanted try and be better than I was, to fix my political career, to show everyone the good and honest man they thought of me." Yoshida glanced across the square, gaze distant. "I suppose I was thinking more of my own legacy, though. No-Good Tora...that name still haunts me. I wish to be better, yes, but I wish to be seen as someone worth trusting, by those who might be my constituents. Even if I am never elected, I want the world to know I'm not the man I used to be." He smiled wryly. "Selfish, I know."

Ren shrugged. "Maybe, but I don't see any problem with that. You made a mistake and you want to correct it, that sounds like a good thing to me. It doesn't matter why."

Yoshida nodded slowly, probably mulling that over. "I'm not sure I agree," he replied, "but I appreciate the kindness, Ren. I'll think on that, I think."


█████
Morning
Cafe Leblanc

The Trickster woke to someone poking him in the nose. He grumbled and tried to roll over, but the assailant simply started pressing their finger into his shoulder. "███," he said, "it's like six in the morning."

"It's nine," she replied, "and there are importance things I must tell you." Stumbling over herself in an excited voice, words a little slurred.

"You're sleep deprived," the Trickster said, without opening his eyes. "Please don't make me deprived too."

"Shut it and get up," she shot back, harrumphing between sentences. "I'm not gonna wait here till noon just to tell you things."

"Okay, okay," the Trickster replied. He yawned, and sat up, rubbing at his eyes and reaching blindly towards his bedside for his glasses; only to find them clumsily pushed onto his face by eager hands. "Thanks," he mumbled, and adjusted his glasses so he could actually see. "So, what's up?"

His sister was grinning, practically bouncing up and down in place, her hands behind her back. "Soooooo," she said, "I've been throwing messages back and forth to the Kirijo tech expert guy–"

"I don't know who that is," the Trickster mumbled.

"Shshshshsh," she said, shaking her hand in front of his face. "Anyway we've been chatting cause I had questions about their MEER thing and how it worked and all that, and since I've still got a copy of the Metaverse Nav from that one thing we pulled on █████, I sent that to him and he sent me a bunch of specs for the MEER–" She cut herself off abruptly. "Going on the rambles, sorry, sorry."

The Trickster shook his head. "Your rambles are great and I love them. Go ahead."

His sister smiled at him, and then continued. "Anyway I was just comparing them at first, but then I realized that his work was really similar to the stuff I did on the modified Nav, so I hacked back into your phone and–"

He held up a hand. "Woah wait wait wait. You did what?"

"I hacked into your phone again," she said, rolling her eyes. "Keep up dude."

"But...my stuff," he tried to protest before she continued.

"And I was able to throw some adjustments to the Nav in there, spif it up a bit, make it nice that we're not crunching for time. And then I took a bunch of code from the MEER and plugged that into your phone's OS. Had to work around a whole bunch of forced obsolescence stuff there, that was a pain." She sat down on the bed, kicking her legs as she talked, gesturing wildly with each new sentence. "But I finally managed to get it to work the way I wanted to, and now it doesn't just run the Nav in the background, it's actually woven into the OS. I'm pretty proud of that."

The Trickster just nodded. He couldn't help but feel a little miffed that she messed with his phone without asking, but he couldn't stay mad at her. And besides, whatever this was would probably be pretty helpful in the long run.

"Soooo," his sister said, "I hereby formally present to you, dear brother, the one and only new and portable Metaverse External Entropic Projector!" And with that, she pulled his cell out of her pocket, and thrust it towards him with a huge grin.

Ren blinked at the phone for a few seconds. "You called it MEEP?"

"Yep!" she said, still proud. "I mean, I don't have any issues with the name MEER, but this is way more of a Projector than a Regulator."

"Huh." He took the phone, turning it over in his hand. "So, what's different about, uh, Meep here?"

She grinned even wider. "It works in the Metaverse."

He raised an eyebrow. "It did that before."

"Not quite." His sister waggled her finger. "Before, the nature of the Metaverse made certain applications inaccessible, since the OS had no ability to process cognitive information. But now..."

"Oh shit," he said. And he stared down at the cell. "It...you made it really work."

"Full bars, GPS and complete photographic capabilities!" she announced. "You're welcome." And she giggled. "I did a bunch of tests, it should work no problem."

"Knowing you," the Trickster replied, "it'll be perfect."