6/17 – Friday
After School
Mementos

"Would it be unkind of me to say I needed this?" Fox said, a breathless smile on his face.

Ren wiped the sweat from his brow, shaking his head. "Not at all," he replied. Without even really thinking about it, he reached out and snatched the treasure from the Shadow they'd just defeated. "I needed it too."

"It'd be nice if Ann and Ryuji could have joined us," Mona mumbled. He'd been staying back, slinging his own spells in lieu of Carmen's flame, but he still looked more than a little winded.

Ren couldn't help but smirk. "Did I hear you wrong, or did you just say you missed Ryuji?"

"Shut it!" Mona growled. "Just because that meat-shield is useful doesn't mean I miss him." He stuck his tongue out. "And I've got better taste than you."

Ren felt his face heat up, and Fox glanced towards him and burst out laughing. "Joker," he said, a little strained. "You look like a tomato in a mask."

"You both suck," Ren grumbled, but he couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. "As soon as we get back I'm gonna petition Mitsuru for new teammates."

"Dibs on team leader!" Mona giggled. "I'm gonna make a big pile out of all the parcel money and then take a nap on it."

"What a shame," Fox quipped. "Looks like I'll just hold onto all these skill cards then." He fished a small stack of cards out of his bag and fanned himself with them, grinning the whole time.

Ren sighed dramatically, still smiling. "Fine. Guess I'll stay around a little longer. Just to keep you bozos in check." He turned back towards the entrance, striding with purpose. "Come on, we've got a few more hearts to steal before we call it a day."


Even with the Phantom Thieves operating at half capacity, it didn't take much longer at all for Ren to be able to check off the last of their requests for the day. After that, it was only a short drive back to the entrance.

"Any plans for the rest of the day?" Mona asked. He was still just a little bundle of energy, even after the few hours of fighting.

"Studying, sadly." Fox stretched out as much as possible on the narrow escalator, thankfully without smacking Ren in the face. "Our investigations have taken up much of my attention over the past few days, and my teachers can only accept so many late assignments."

Ren winced. "That's rough. Best of luck. I'm only a text away if you need some help."

"Appreciated," Fox replied. "Will you be busy tonight as well?"

He shrugged. "Schedule's free. Probably just gonna refresh my email for four hours and then pass out."

Fox chuckled, and Mona groaned.

The moment Ren stepped off the escalator, an irate voice rang out. "Inmate!"

Ren flinched, and turned to see Caroline standing in front of that blue door superimposed onto reality. "Hey," he said, relaxing once he saw it was her.

"Hm?" Mona stopped by his side. "What's wrong, Joker?"

"One of the twins," he said, reminding himself that only he could see the small and angry child. "I think she want to talk."

Mona squinted into the dim. "Will it take long?"

"Just a second," Ren assured. For Mona, it would only be that long.


"I thought Lockdown access was restricted from Mementos," Ren said, stepping out of his cell and into that odd velvet arena.

"These are special circumstances," Justine said. She flipped pages on her clipboard, and stared at Ren with an odd expression, like she was forcing herself to be emotionless.

Ren glanced towards Caroline, waiting for her to chew his head off with one of her remarks, but the girl said nothing. She was stretching, first one leg, then the other, then each arm in turn.

Ren bit. "What sort of circumstances?"

"You're going to be fighting me," Caroline said, calmer than Ren had ever heard from her, but with no shortage of glee.

"Uh," Ren said, "what?"

"And don't hold back either!" Caroline demanded. "I'm stronger than you, so you shouldn't pull your punches."

Yeah, no. Absolutely not. Ren couldn't just...he wasn't about to fight a kid. Stronger than him or not, that was pretty out of the question. He opened his mouth to protest, and caught a glance from Justine. Silent, cold, and intense. Without saying a word, she just nodded. Slowly, purposefully. "Don't hold back, huh?" he asked.

Caroline nodded, grinning ecstatically. "I want to see your strength firsthand. Show me everything you've got!

And another nod from Justine. "Alright," Ren agreed, still wincing at the concept. Left hand on his mask, drawing his knife with his right, staring at Caroline.

Justine quickly moved out of the way, and Caroline seemed to brace herself, her one eye wide, practically glittering with joy. "I'll give you the first attack, Inmate. I'm nice like that." Something swept across the floor, like rocks disturbed by a sudden wind. Ren felt it too, some invisible force that raised the hair on the back of his neck. Strength. Pure and simple power, radiating off the tiny girl in waves.

And Ren closed his eyes. "For once," he whispered to the young man he knew was listening, "I won't hold you back. She might kill me if I do, after all." He felt the wordless reply, his mask practically vibrating its way off his face. Ren couldn't help but sigh. Caught between two out-of-control powerhouses, huh? "Caroline," he raised his voice. "Here we come." And he opened his eyes. "Persona."

If there were lights around the arena, they would have dimmed. Ren barely saw the spark, like a single ember of shadow, flickering across the ground. "Demonic Decree," Arsene invoked. And then it screamed, louder than he had ever heard. Thunderous force, dragging every molecule of breath out of him, as oblivion blocked the girl from view. Absolute shadow. His eyes blurred, but he forced himself to stay upright. Adrenaline was pounding in his ears, but instinct screamed at him to stay alert. Just in case–

"Persona!" The dark cleared, and Ren's eyes widened at the sight of the girl, for the first time without her eyepatch. Blue flame flickered around her face, one hand blocking her other eye from sight. And by her side...

"Hee-ho!" A Jack Frost? Not the most imposing of Personas, Ren felt himself relax just a little.

The sudden cold shocked away all thoughts of letting his guard down. Ren threw himself left as frigid air solidified around him, and felt the glove torn off his hand. He glanced down – his knife was gone with the glove – and then at the spot he'd been standing a moment previously. It was now completely iced-over, both his glove and blade suspended in place. "Uh," he said. That was just a little bit stronger than he had maybe expected.

"Arsene!" he called, "don't let up!"

The winged persona didn't say a word, merely gesturing with one hand at the girl. A glimmer of orange energy, and then a bolt of raw strength.

And Caroline sighed. Her eyepatch formed back beneath her hand, the Jack Frost fading from view. She took a single step forward, reaching one hand up to her opposite shoulder. Then, as the bolt reached her, she swung. Like a bat, the back of her hand completely deflected Arsene's attack, sending the energy off-course into the far wall of the arena. "Not good enough," she said. And her voice was...was she disappointed? She put her hand on her eyepatch again, and it shattered with blue fire. "Shiisa." The familiar lion's grin of the bright yellow Persona, whose entire body tensed to roar. And some glimmer shot across the floor towards him.

His vision went white. It didn't hurt, Ren thought, with whatever part of his brain could still form thoughts. Maybe she was the one who had been holding back. And then, no thoughts came at all.

Ren opened his eyes. He was on his back, on the floor. Justine was looking down at him with what might have been an amused expression. "An admirable attempt, Inmate," she said. "You didn't stand much of a chance at all, I'm afraid."

"She can use multiple Personas," Ren said. The first words that came into his head. And next: "You have the Wild Card? Both of you?"

Justine shook her head. "Our power comes from another source. Similar, but we ourselves do not possess that ability."

Ren raised an eyebrow, and even that little motion stung like hell. "Then, where does your power come from?"

Justine giggled, and offered her hand to Ren. "From you."


Leaving the cell, Caroline's incessant criticisms fading from his ears, Ren would have expected to feel disappointed, or bitter. It had been a sort of humiliating loss, after all. But he felt...oddly exhilarated, like he'd come away with something far more valuable than victory. He had no clue what, but the fight felt like far more than simply another loss.

"So?" Mona prompted. "What did they want to talk about?"

"Uh," Ren said. "Well, one of them wanted to spar. So we sparred."

"Oh," the feline said. And then, "how did it go?"

"She kicked the shit out of me," he replied, matter-of-fact, and then headed past the confused not-a-cat and towards Mementos' exit.


6/18 – Saturday
After School
Shinjuku

iohya
Mister Amamiya,

Thank you for reaching out to me. I can't make any promises, my job requires a certain level of confidentiality but I'll see what I can do. For the right information, I'd be willing to bend a few rules. Feel free to email back your schedule and I can set up a meeting, but if time is of the essence (and it seems that it is, from the tone of your email) you can find me at the Crossroads Bar in Shinjuku every night after 6pm. Feel free to stop by whenever you can and ask for Ohya, the woman tending the bar will know where I am. Otherwise, I look forward to hearing from you.

Ichiko Ohya

Ryuji handed Ren back his phone, looking sort of perplexed. "She sounds a lot nicer than I expected. For a gossip rag lady at least."

Ren shrugged and pocketed his cell, trying not to disturb the bag on his lap. "She could be professional and still an asshole. We won't know till we meet her." It thankfully wasn't a particularly long train ride from Shibuya to Shinjuku, but there were other downsides to this rushed meeting. In particular, last-minute scheduling had yet again robbed him of two Thieves, this time only Ryuji was available to join him.

"Asking you to come to a bar though...that's weird right?" Ryuji asked. He crossed his arms. "I mean, the fact that she spends every night there kinda rubs me the wrong way."

"I'm guessing she works there." Ren shrugged. "I mean, going there every day even if she is–" At the sight of Ryuji visibly tensing at the implication, Ren chose not to finish his sentence. "Well, it is weird. Especially since she knows I'm a minor. So maybe she works nights."

"Crap reporting must not pay that much," Ryuji mumbled.

"Guess not." And with that, there wasn't much else Ren could think to say on the subject. But for whatever reason, the silence between them felt immediately uncomfortable; it wasn't like they were alone, the train car was relatively full, but Ren's heart still started to skip a few beats as soon as he wasn't actively engaging in conversation. "So," he said, "how've you been by the way? I know it's only been like, a couple days since we hung out, but everything still going alright?"

Ryuji nodded, immediately smiling. "Yeah man, things are pretty solid. I mean, Thief shit is always gonna be take up a lot of headroom, but honestly working for Mister Iwai has been kind of stellar? Like, I think I've really been in need of something more..." He gestured vaguely, clearly failing to articulate. "Like, getting shit done? Lots of little successes. Good change of pace from, like, half-flunking every class I'm in. Plus it's just like a quiet place that honestly kinda smells nice, and Mister Iwai is a pretty rad guy and he's not real hard on me." Ryuji chuckled. "I mean, you're probably sick of hearing me talk about how it."

Ren instantly shook his head. "Not at all. I'd rather hear that the same thing is going well than that you're having a rough time. Good stuff is good, right?"

Ryuji burst out laughing. "Hell yeah," he said, "good stuff is good."


For whatever reason, neither Ren nor Ryuji could find Crossroads on their phone, so the two of them immediately split up upon leaving Shinjuku station. Wandering through an unfamiliar neighborhood alone wasn't exactly Ren's ideal Saturday evening, but he had a magical feline in his bag, Ryuji on speed-dial in his pocket and the Thieves who needed this done. So, Ren forced himself onward.

There was an older woman, maybe in her fifties, handing out pamphlets on the sidewalk. In lieu of any better idea, Ren swallowed his nervousness and approached her. "Excuse me," he said, trying his best to keep the anxiety out of his voice, "I'm looking for a place called Crossroads, do you know where it is?"

The woman gave him an odd look, shook her head, and then offered him a pamphlet.

"Oh," he said, "uh." All words gone, he simply turned slightly and walked past her as quick as he possibly could. That definitely could have gone better.

"Excuse me," rang out a voice from behind him with a distinct Osakan accent, "young man! Highschooler with the bag?"

Ren stopped, and turned back around. There was a woman waving at him across the counter of a purple business stall, its walls decorated with odd symbols and an orange sign that simply read "Fortune," though there was room for another word. She looked young but probably older than him, maybe twenties, with long blonde hair, an indigo dress and an incredibly serious expression. Wordlessly, Ren pointed to himself.

The woman nodded intensely. "Could you please come over here for a moment? I'd like to speak with you." She sat back down at her stall and motioned to a stool across from her.

For a moment, Ren's nervousness and curiosity were at war, but the former won out. "Sorry, I've really gotta go. I'm meeting someone–"

"You don't know where to go, right?" The woman smiled, almost mischievously. Now that Ren heard her talk more, her accent wasn't exactly Osakan. Almost halfway between that and the Shibuya accent he was used to, like she'd tried to adjust her speech but not fully done so yet. "I've been in Shinjuku for round-bout a few years now, I know how to get pretty much everywhere. Just a moment of your time, and I'll send you off where you need to go."

And the pendulum swung the other direction. "Kay," he mumbled, and trudged his way over to the booth, slowly seating himself. "So, what do you want?"

She smiled, and thrust a hand over the table. "Introductions first! Name's Chihaya Mifune, I'm a fortune teller."

Ren raised an eyebrow at the job description, but shook the odd woman's hand. "Ren Amamiya. Student." Part-time Phantom Thief too, he was almost tempted to say that aloud.

"Howdy Ren." She adjusted herself in her seat, and cleared her throat. "If you don't mind, I'd like to tell your fortune. I won't ask for nothing from you, and I'm happy to direct you wherever you're going after."

"Uh," Ren said, immediately, "why?" Definitely a weird request, it caught him off guard completely.

Chihaya didn't answer for a moment, brow furrowed, seeming to collect her thoughts. "I guess you could say," she began, speaking a little slower, more articulate, "that I'm a real good judge of character. And there's something about you that makes me think that you're in need of some guidance, or clarity in your future. You've got a good head on your shoulders, that's for sure, but I think there's a little too much going on in your life that's out of your control. So, and maybe this is just my ego talking, but I think a fortune might do you a little good."

Ren wasn't entirely convinced. She certainly seemed earnest enough, he didn't suspect she was trying to pull a fast one on him, but he couldn't say that fortune telling was an area he had a lot of confidence in. Not that he'd had any particular experiences with it, but there were just a few too many articles he'd read about scam artists using tarot to con people out of money. But, so long as he kept a healthy skepticism, Ren couldn't see any harm in it. "Alright," he said. "Do I need to like...fill out a form or something?"

Chihaya laughed, almost a full guffaw. "No, no. Just sit right there and let a lady work her stuff." She stretched her arms out above her head, slapped her cheeks a few times, and then pulled a blue deck of cards out from beneath the table and began to shuffle. Ren couldn't help but fixate on her hands as she did so, there was something incredibly satisfying about the speed at which she worked, spinning some cards around completely as she did so, changing not just order but orientation. With a little dramatic chuckle, Chihaya fanned the cards face-down out across the table. The fan wasn't nearly as impressive, a few of the cards were skewed and the fan was distinctly off-center. "Please," she said, "young Mister Amamiya, pick a card, but do not look at it yet."

"Okay," Ren said. There wasn't a wrong answer, was there? Probably not, but either way he hesitated a moment before picking a card at random and holding it awkwardly. "What do I do with it?"

Chihaya laughed again, and plucked the card out of Ren's hand. With one hand, she swept the rest of the cards back into a relatively orderly pile, and placed Ren's card down in front of her, still face-down. "This one card represents a single domino," she said, in a confident manner, like she'd rehearsed this before. "What you're dealing with is a complicated issue, and we shall explore it one piece at a time."

Ren had no idea what she meant, but he nodded anyway.

"Good!" And with that, she flipped over the card. The Seven of Cups. Chihaya stared at it a moment, her right hand hovering over the deck. "You feel lost," she said, her voice odd, quieter than previously. "There are many paths in front of you, many choices you feel pressured to make, and none that seem obvious. You've been caught up in your dreams, trying to find some sort of clear answer there. You wish to know the right answer. What is keeping your hand?" She gingerly plucked a card from the very top of the pile, and turned it over, placing it next to the first. The Nine of Swords. "Fear. You are afraid of failure, afraid of pain that might echo back to your earlier scars. There is something, or somethings, in your past that still haunts you, that keeps you from moving forward. What can be done?" Another card, plucked, flipped, placed. The Six of Pentacles, upside-down. Chihaya hesitated, her brow furrowed, hand still on the card.

"What can be done?" Ren repeated. He still wasn't quite sure he believed in this, but something about her reading was seeming a little sharper than sheer guesswork. Like she really did know something about his situation. At the very least, his curiosity was peaked.

"There is..." she began, then stopped, then began again. "There is someone attempting to control you. Someone who offers gifts laced with conditions, who desires some degree of authority over you." Chihaya seemed almost like she wanted to stop the reading there, but she continued. "Have they caused you harm?" Another card, in an almost shaking hand. The Ace of Pentacles, upside-down. "They have taken something from you. Something important?" Another card. The Six of Swords, upside-down. "They have taken...memories?" She screwed up her face. "That doesn't seem right, how..." She trailed off, blinking.

Memories. Someone who wishes control, has offered gifts, and has taken Ren's memories. He almost couldn't breathe. "Please, continue," he said, his voice oddly steady in his own ears, despite his rabbit heart threatening to drown it out.

Chihaya was silent for a moment. "What have they taken from you?" she asked. A card, plucked, flipped, placed. The Fool. And her eyes widened. "They have taken your innocence? Your freedom, your power to choose. They've..." She swallowed hard, and stared down at the cards. "Who are they?" she asked, finally. And she pulled a card from the deck. Chihaya didn't even place it, simply turned it over.

The Three of Swords.

"A grieving–" Chihaya was abruptly cut off by an odd popping sound, the woman starting in place. She glanced down at the table, and Ren followed her gaze, just in time to see the Fool card she'd placed just seconds before burst into flames. He leapt out of his chair, Chihaya similarly recoiling, and both watched the card crackle and burn in an inexplicable fire. It only took a moment before the cardboard was turned into ash, and the flame faded into nothing, not even lighting the tablecloth.

"What the fuck," Ren said, as soon as he could find the words to say anything at all.

Chihyaha looked at the Three of Swords she was still holding, and then to the table, and then to Ren. "Stay safe," she said. "Please. Stay very, very safe."


6/18 – Saturday
Evening
Shinjuku, Crossroads Bar

"Nice job finding the place," Ryuji said, staring up at the gaudy neon sign.

"Guess I'm good at asking directions," Ren replied. He tried very hard not to think about the potential implications of a symbol of his innocence spontaneously combusting in front of him.

"Ren got his fortune told," Morgana added. Ren winced.

Ryuji glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "No kidding. What's your future hold, bro?"

"Apparently," he said, trying and probably failing to not sound bitter, "I'm feeling lost in life cause I'm traumatized and not naming names but someone stole my autonomy and then set it on fire."

"That's..." Ryuji blinked at him. "Weirdly specific?"

"Yep," Ren said, "hell of a thing. Let's go meet reporter lady." He took exactly two steps towards the entrance before realizing that Ryuji still hadn't moved. He glanced over his shoulder to see the jock looking absolutely uncomfortable.

"Could, uh," Ryuji began, rubbing the back of his neck, "would it be alright if I stayed out here? I feel like a piece of shit for bailing right at the end, but me and alcohol are kinda..." He gazed down the street, his whole body visibly tense.

"I'll handle it," Ren said, "no worries." If it would keep Ryuji from being uncomfortable, Ren would probably throw himself off the side of a ship. "Are you gonna stay out here?"

Ryuji nodded. "I'll be right here when you get out, promise." He paused, and then mumbled "thanks Ren." He cleared his throat, throwing back on a confident grin. "And if you need backup, just text me and I'll come save your ass. I've got your back!"

Ren couldn't help but smile at that. "Don't you always?" He gave his friend a quick wave, and then made his way inside Crossroads.

He hadn't any bar experience to compare it to, but he didn't find the decor particularly disagreeable at least. And it smelled far less like alcohol than he expected it to, but the air was definitely heavy. Sort of...like strong perfume?

"You're welcome to be here," the large woman at the bar said, her voice an impressive baritone, "but if you're looking to try and cheat your way into some booze with a fake ID, you've better luck somewhere else."

"I'm here to meet someone?" Ren said. Then, realizing it was definitely awkward for him to be standing in front of the door, he took a few steps farther into the bar, both hands on the strap of his bag. "Ichiko Ohya. Does she work here, or something?"

The woman raised her eyebrows, and then laughed, deep and hearty. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, "she's not an employee." She took a few steps farther into the bar, and banged on the far wall – Ren flinched. "Hey freeloader! Get your ass out here, someone's looking for you!" She smirked towards Ren. "If you're worried, don't be. She pays rent, I just like giving her a hard time. We go way back."

"Five minutes you hag!" groaned a voice from the other side of the wall.

The woman rolled her eyes. "I told you, there's someone here who wants to talk with you!"

A pause. "Is it a high-schooler!?"

The woman stared at Ren. "Looks like it!"

Another moment of silence. "Okay, one sec! Keep him busy, Lala!"

"You can sit down, sweetheart," the woman at the bar – Lala, apparently – said, with a little chuckle. "Ohya might be a second."

"Okay," Ren said, and did not sit down. Instead, he just moved a little farther inside, safely out of the way, right across the bar.

Lala waited in silence, then sighed. "Kid," her voice softening, "you look like you're going to throw up. You sure you're okay?"

He nodded. "Just...been a hell of a day. First time in Shinjuku. Got a really ominous fortune. And now I'm standing in a bar. Still just processing." Words flew off his tongue with reckless abandon to either restraint or logic.

"Hm," Lala said, nodding. "Well, would you like a glass of water? Might calm the nerves just a tad."

Ren hesitated, then nodded. "Please."

The woman turned, plucking a glass from the shelf behind her, and then leaned down. She stopped for a moment, then turned her body slightly, so Ren could see her fill up the glass with tap water. Then, she placed it on the bar between them.

Ren took a breath, then sat down. "Thank you," he said, and gulped down the water. He was surprisingly pretty parched, so it was very appreciated. He could feel a small purr coming from his bag, Morgana probably trying to help soothe him too. That, and the general sense that Lala was someone he could trust, definitely helped.

A woman with a black hair in a bobcut and jeans stumbled through the door behind the counter, still pulling a black t-shirt atop her white undershirt. Realizing she'd put the overshirt on backwards, she swore under her breath and adjusted it to be facing the right way. Then, she patted down some errant strands of hair, and grinned at Ren. "Hey kid! Gotta say, I really didn't expect you here today. But, it is great to see you!" She awkwardly scooted her way over the bar divider, then gestured towards the far corner, away from the counter. "Come on, this way. Booths are pretty private, and I've made sure the far one is sound-deafening. Super confidential, pinky promise." She turned and made her way towards the booth with a spring in her step like an sugar-high twelve-year-old.

Ren, more than a little apprehensive, glanced back towards Lala.

"I can vet for her," Lala assured. "She's an old friend, she won't do anything fuck-headed, I promise." And then, almost as an afterthought, "and if she does, just shout and I'll bash her head in." Lala gestured towards the baseball bat wedged in the corner of the wall behind her. "Old friend or not, I've got no patience for shit behavior."

Despite himself, Ren found himself smiling. "Thank you."

Lala smiled back. "Don't mention it, sweetheart."


Ohya looked absolutely ecstatic as she settled in across the booth from Ren, a heavy curtain between them at the rest of the bar. "So," she said, "you've got info on the Phantom Thieves. You have my undivided attention, Mister Amamiya."

Ren took a long, deep breath. Playing a part, he was just playing a part. Confident. Like he knew what he was doing. "I do," he said. "I'm not planning on telling anything unless you tell me what you know about Zebul, though. I'd rather not say anything about this to anyone, but this is worth divulging it."

Ohya nodded slowly, seeming to take a moment to process what Ren was saying. "Just out of curiosity, why do you want to know about Zebul anyway? Are gang leaders some sort of hip thing?" The joke was very forced, Ren had a feeling she was trying to cover up what she already knew about Zebul's gang.

"I'm a Shujin student," he replied, simply. "It's self-preservation." An obvious lie, he knew that.

Ohya grinned, taking the bait. "Nuh uh uh, I don't buy that. Kid like you's probably sharp enough to avoid that sort of thing altogether. What's your real reason?"

Ren feigned hesitation. "The guy who runs the Phan-Site said the Phantom Thieves can't change his heart yet. I made a request, but he said they couldn't do anything unless they knew what Zebul's real name is."

"I see, I see." Ohya smirked and leaned back against the booth. "So, you're a Phantom Thieves supporter huh?"

"They're justice itself," Ren said, as forceful and insistent as he could manage. "They made Kamoshida confess his crimes and turn himself in. I don't care what other people say, they're heroes."

Ohya grinned. "You've got conviction kid, I like it." She stretched out and rested her chin in her hand, elbow on the table. "So, I think I'd be willing to cut you a deal here. I'm really not technically supposed to hand out information like this to just anyone, reporting is a cutthroat business and throwing away a good story is tantamount to career suicide." She let out a little whistle. "But being the first to publish on the Phantom Thieves' next target? That is a very tempting offer, Mister Amamiya."

Good. Everything seemed to be going well, but...Ren still had some knot of doubt in his gut that would not unwind itself. "If I might be blunt with you, Miss Ohya, I'm still trying to figure out if I can trust you. I'd rather not hand over information about the Phantom Thieves to someone who might just character-assassinate them. Or me, for that matter."

Ohya's face fell. "Ah," she replied. "You're referring to my work history with Temptation?"

Ren nodded.

She was silent for a moment. "I don't blame you," she said, quietly. "I think I used to be happy my work was even published anywhere, but I'm definitely not proud of working for that publication. I don't have a lot of control over what I write, and even less control over what they publish. My editor won't take a story unless it'll piss someone off." Ohya looked up towards the ceiling, her head back. "Right now, I'm trying to court an online newspaper, actually. Not a very big one, but with some pretty dedicated readers. I've been a fan of theirs for a while, but their hiring process is strict and I need at least one good article to get my foot in the door."

"Oh," Ren said. He didn't know what to say. He certainly hadn't been expecting that.

Another few seconds of silence. "Zebul is a gang leader," she said, her voice oddly both kind and firm. "He's local to Shibuya, since his work is tucked in an awkward spot between two other much more territorial gangs. But he's managed to squeeze his way into Central Street, and that's a real hub of opportunity for him. Not a very big gang, but it's been growing. He doesn't come from money, and he's not from any of the local families, so that's why the epithet." She paused, and glanced back down at Ren. "Do you need to take notes or anything?"

Ren shook his head. "I've got a good memory." And an incredibly attentive feline sitting in the bag next to him, who was exceptionally skilled at remembering anything he might forget.

She smirked. "Alright, suit yourself." Ohya cleared her throat. "Zebul's tried his hand at smuggling and peddling drugs, low-end gang stuff, but he really started taking off after targeting high school and college students, especially those desperate enough for part-time work. He'll get them in debt or hooked, or even buy their debt if they already have it, and get them to convince more people to join the gang's cronies."

"Pyramid-scheme," Ren said, unable to keep the contempt out of his voice.

Ohya nodded solemnly. "You said you needed the guy's real name? It's Junya Kaneshiro. You better not forget that, cause I'm not saying it again." She smirked. "And you didn't hear it from me. I'm not in his territory but I still don't want gang members busting down my door. Or, Lala's door. Whatever, you know what I mean."

Ren didn't know what to say beyond "thank you."

"Welcome!" she chirped, and sat up with immediate energy. "So, about that info..."

Ren sighed. Well, time to toss the woman a few morsels and a crimson fish. "The Phantom Thieves started at Shujin," he said. "There might have been changes of heart before then, but that was their public debut."

"Right," Ohya said, nodding along. She fished a small notepad out of her pocket, clicked a metal pen and started writing.

Even more careful with his words now, Ren continued. "I've heard rumors about the mental shutdowns and the changes of heart both being acts by the Thieves, but I don't think that's the case. All the Thieves' targets have one specific thing in common: they're all abusers, in some capacity. They abuse their power, their authority, or the people around them. The mental shutdowns, if they are intentional, have pretty much all targeted public figures. And none of them have confessed crimes in any capacity. If there's someone causing the shutdowns, their agenda is probably just to cause as much havoc as possible. Or maybe just lash out at people they feel have harmed them. I don't know. But it doesn't fit with the Thieves' MO."

"And what is the Thieves' MO?" Ohya prompted.

"Justice," Ren replied. "None of the changes of heart have ended in death, even for someone as disgusting as Kamoshida. That tells me they're acting on more than just vindication." A flash of fire in his memory, flame reflecting in those tears running down Ann's face. Mercy by necessity, out of strength, out of selflessness. But then, none of them would have stopped her. None of them stopped Yusuke, even when he was in the process of suffocating his father. Ren felt uncomfortable assigning those to some greater meaning, it wasn't as if they had planned the Thieves to be bloodless. But none of them wanted to be murderers. And they all knew the right thing would be to let them live so they could confess their crimes. Martyring Kamoshida or Madarame would have haunted them beyond the simple ramifications towards the Thieves' reputation. Realizing he'd paused speaking, Ren cleared his throat. "They're trying to do the right thing. Whatever that might be."

Ohya didn't even look up from her notepad. "Anything else you can tell me?"

Ren almost said no, and then he remembered the herring. "I think it's possible the Phantom Thieves who changed Madarame's heart and the Phantom Thieves who changed Kamoshida's might not be the same people, or person, or whatever. They might be copycats, or inspired by the Kamoshida case."

That definitely grabbed an intrigued glance from Ohya. "How do you figure?" she asked.

"The calling cards, for one. I've seen the Kamoshida one up close, and it doesn't look anything like card the Thieves left for Madarame. Totally different style, they even use a different symbol to represent the Thieves. Plus, going after a random abusive teacher and then a crazy-famous artist is a pretty drastic change. The Kamoshida Thieves were probably closer connected, either victims of his abuse or friends of victims. But the Madarame Thieves might be just trying to go after more well-known abusers to get people to notice them." He shrugged. "That doesn't really explain the smaller changes of heart from the Phan-Site requests, I don't know which Thieves would be responsible for those. And I still have no idea how they change hearts at all, so the multiple people arriving at that method separately is kind of unlikely. But still worth considering, I think."

"Indeed it is," Ohya said. She smiled up at Ren. "Even if they're different people, you still think these new Thieves are heroes?"

Ren nodded, forcing a smile. "They are. If they've got different motives, or different targets, or a different style – I don't really think it matters. They're good people doing the right thing. No matter what, that makes them heroes in my book."