CONTENT WARNING: The second section of "7/29 – Friday, Afternoon, Sojiro's House" contains multiple recollections of transphobia, ableism and suicide ideation. While not graphic, this content still may be difficult or upsetting to read, so please take breaks or skip sections as needed. Stay safe.
7/28 – Thursday
Afternoon
Sojiro's House
Unknown Number
What's it like in the cognitive world?
They'd spent the latter half of yesterday's infiltration period chatting about music, and Ren had sort of expected to stay on similarly surface-level subjects, at least to start. He sat back down against the wall, facing Futaba's door as he contemplated his answer.
"Like the Metaverse in general," he asked, "or your Palace?"
Unknown Number
The first one I guess.
Actually
My palace, what's that like?
Ren twisted a lock of hair between finger and thumb. "It's a big pyramid, like one of the Egyptian ones, in this huge desert. Except, it's upside-down. Like, balanced on the narrow point."
Unknown Number
Huh.
"Expecting something different?" he teased.
Unknown Number
A little.
I guess ancient Egypt makes sense though.
"Cause of the name Osiris?"
Unknown Number
Uh
It's complicated.
Don't wanna get into it rn.
"No problem," he assured. "I'm here for you, we don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."
Unknown Number
Okay.
No further texts, for a moment. Ren scoured his brain for something to speak about, something–
Unknown Number
What's Oxymoron like?
He took a long breath in.
Unknown Number
I'm sorry!
Was that bad to ask?
"No, no," Ren said, "it's okay. I don't mind telling you. Just caught me off guard, that's all." He mulled over the question. What was she like? "Well, I've only seen her twice in person. Never her face, either. Just her eyes, that once in Mementos. Really yellow, like a Shadow's eyes. And she's got four scars on her shoulder, but I dunno what they're from."
Unknown Number
What about the memories you've gotten?
Do you remember her face from there?
"Not really," he admitted. "Anachronism definitely saw her face, but it's all...blurry." He closed his eyes, pulling back the memory from atop that odd spire, with the world dying. He'd seen her face then, clear. But it was a haze now, odd and imprecise. Ren could only pick out her eyes, only that stark color, just a few shades off from gold. Sickly, and sharp. "Yeah. Can't pick it out."
Unknown Number
That's frustrating.
Oh uh uh
Sorry is that okay?
I'm not frustrated at you I promise I promise.
"Futaba, it's alright." He chuckled. "I'm pretty frustrated by it too. Anachronism even knew her real name, I'm pretty sure, but I can't remember that either. All the names are kinda blurry."
Unknown Number
Do you
remember me?
Am I in any of those memories?
Ren closed his eyes again, searching back through the recollections. Did he? It was sort of difficult to tell. Faces and names covered in shifting static, only a glimpse of hair or a glint of action or flash of emotion. Voices through a fog of molasses. "I don't know for sure, all the details are fuzzy for me. But I want to say that you are, that feels right."
Unknown Number
That sounds really nice.
If you remember me, we're probably friends in the future, right?
I like that.
I wanna be your friend Ren.
He smiled, hoping she could hear it in his voice. "I'd like that too, Futaba."
"Good news and bad news," Makoto said over the phone.
Ren took a long swig from his nearby water bottle. "Bad news first?"
"The bad news is we've run into some rather intensive complications. We're halfway through the pyramid now, but each level has been bigger than the last." Makoto sighed. "Honestly, I should have expected that."
"No self-loathing," Ren said.
"Right, sorry." She paused, as if composing herself. "The good news part of that, I suppose, is that the Palace is on far lower alert than our first outing. You and Futaba have done amazing, her cognition has been holding steady."
Ren covered the receiver. "Makoto says you're doing a great job!" he called to Futaba.
Makoto laughed. "You both are. Despite some rather significant setbacks, I do think at this pace we should be able to reach Futaba's Treasure in another few days. If it wasn't for you out there, I would have doubled our estimated week. Your decision seems to be panning out perfectly."
A faint sound in the background, Ryuji's voice distinct but slightly muffled. "Miss ya, Renren!"
"But we definitely miss your leadership," Makoto chuckled. "It'll be good to have you back, after this."
Ren smiled. "It'll be good to be back," he replied.
7/28 – Thursday
Evening
Shinjuku, Crossroads Bar
"So, got anything new for me, Mister Phantom-Thief-Supporter?" Ohya asked, as soon as she'd pulled the curtain closed on their booth. "More juicy information, perhaps?"
Ren shook his head. "Just...checking on how the article on Zebul went and everything. Good PR is half my job now, I guess." He wasn't the most invested in the article itself, but being on good terms with someone as 'in the know' as Ohya was probably in the Thieves' best interests.
She blinked. "Right, yeah." Ohya rubbed the back of her neck, staring at the nearby wall. "Well, there's good news and bad news, I guess."
Second time today. "Bad news first?"
"Article didn't catch." She shrugged. "I sent it to the newspaper I mentioned right when Zebul turned himself in, offered to let them run it before anyone else. But apparently, the SIU has been throwing cease-and-desists around like pink slips, so they didn't want to risk it."
"I'm sorry," he said.
"But the good news," Ohya continued, "is that they loved all the Phantom Thief information you gave me. Told me to turn it into an op-ed about the Thieves, and they're running it in the next issue. Even with the cops trying to keep Kaneshiro's arrest on the down-low, the demand for Phantom Thief info is at an all-time high."
Ren blinked. "That is good news."
"Right!?" She grinned, almost bouncing in her seat. "So I guess I have you to thank now for my current employment." Ohya pulled a metal pen from her pocket and began to spin it between her fingers. "I think we're even on the information front, but I definitely owe you big time for the opportunity. You need some more help from your new favorite reporter, just drop me a line."
"I think you could actually help me with something," Ren said. He felt a little pang of guilt at asking the woman for another favor, especially after feeding her misinformation the last time they'd spoken. It was for the greater good, but that didn't make him feel any less gross about it. "One of my friends has been looking into the mental shutdowns, seeing if she can find proof that the Thieves aren't responsible. She hasn't found anything specifically, but she mentioned this group called An-So that popped up a few times. Have you heard anything about it?"
Ohya raised an eyebrow. "An-So? Doesn't ring a bell." She pulled out her phone, typing something out, her nails clicking on the touch screen. "Yeah, got nothing here. I'll keep my eyes out. If anything pops up, I'll let you know."
"Thank you," he said. "Uh, if anything more happens on the Phan-Site, or the Thieves make another big move, I'll call you."
"Appreciate it, kiddo." Ohya smiled, clicking her pen and then slipping it back into her pocket.
7/29 – Friday
Afternoon
Sojiro's House
Ren slid down to seated, waiting for Futaba's text. "Do you wanna tell me more about Phoenix Ranger?" he offered. "Or we could chat about cognitive stuff, or the other Thieves. Whatever you'd like."
Unknown Number
I'm sorry.
Ren stared down at the text. A little wriggling anxiety wound its way into his gut. "Is everything okay, Futaba?" he said, slowly.
Unknown Number
Dunno.
Can't talk much.
Sorry.
"It's alright," he assured, "I promise, it's alright. Did...something happen?"
Unknown Number
I just get like this.
Brain gets dumb and words get dumb and I get dumb.
"You're not that at all," he said, quietly. "I understand, I get like that sometimes too. You're not dumb for having a bad day, everybody has those."
Unknown Number
Not like this though.
Not this bad.
Sorry.
Sorry.
"Nothing to be sorry for." Ren kept his voice calm, as soothing as he could manage. Even, steady, careful. "I'm happy to just talk about anything, if you'd like to just listen. If that's too much, I'm happy to just be here quietly until the Thieves call."
Unknown Number
Quiet sounds good.
Sorry.
Is that bad?
"Not at all," Ren said. "I offered, there's nothing wrong or bad about it." He shifted, scooting across the hall and sitting against the door rather than facing it. It may have been a moot gesture, but something about offering even a symbolic proximity felt right. "I'll be right here in the hallway. If there's anything you want to say, or talk about, or need: just text. I'm not going anywhere."
Unknown Number
Thank you.
You're
really really nice and good to me Ren.
I dunno why.
"Cause you deserve that," he said, simply. "I know what it's like to hurt on your own, and to need to lean on people, and to be stuck in your own head. I've been there. So, I wanna be here for you, like my friends have been there for me."
Unknown Number
Okay.
I dunno.
Still feel like I'm bad or something.
But I trust u.
"Thank you," Ren said, quietly. "That means a lot. I know it's not easy."
And they were quiet, for a while.
Unknown Number
What happens after you change my heart?
Like, between me and the Thieves.
Or me and you.
"That's up to you," he replied. "If you wanna be around different people than me and the Thieves, then we can just be like...friends who say hi sometimes, and do our own things. And if you wanna stay friends with us, then you're welcome to do so."
Unknown Number
I wanna be friends.
I guess
would I
No, never mind.
Sorry sorry sorry
"It's alright," he said, almost a whisper. "You don't have to say anything you're not comfortable with. I'm here, and I'll keep being here. Like I said, I'm not going anywhere."
Ren was worried he might fall asleep in the quiet hallway when his phone rang. "Ren here," he mumbled into the receiver, blinking away the edges of slumber.
"Hello Ren," came a polite voice he hadn't expected.
"Oh, hey Fox." He scooted to the side, a little ways away from the door, so that his voice wouldn't bother Futaba as much. "Everything going alright?"
"Er," the young man said, "in a manner of speaking?" Yusuke sounded distinctly nervous, as if there was something he was avoid.
"Fox," Ren said, firm but soft. "What's going on?"
"None of us have sustained any injuries," Yusuke replied, slowly, "and everyone's stamina seems relatively high, but I do believe we will have to put today's infiltration on hold."
"Did something happen?" Ren asked, keeping his voice low. He didn't want to worry Futaba, especially unnecessarily.
"Futaba's Shadow..." Yusuke hesitated. "Guided us through an alternate path. A shortcut, of sorts, past a great deal of Shadows that would have stymied our progress. But her motivations for doing so was to show us proof of the 'sin' she mentioned before." He paused, clearing his throat. "It was rather difficult to watch. I certainly know I am still rather shaken by it."
"Shit," Ren mumbled. He leaned back, swallowing hard. Even without knowing the details, the tone of Yusuke's voice was enough to rattle him. "How's everybody coping?"
"Adequately, I believe." Another pause. "I don't wish to speak for everyone, but we are taking care of each other. Queen especially has been ensuring our emotional needs are met, as it were."
He smiled. That definitely sounded like Makoto. "Make sure to tell her to take care of herself too. Don't push too hard; Joker's orders."
"I'll pass on the message," he chuckled. "Oh, Panther would like to speak with you. One moment." A rustling as the phone was transferred.
"Hold on a sec," Ann said, "gonna...just find a quiet place to talk."
"Holding on." A creak – probably the Safe Room door opening – and then a solid thunk.
"This Safe Room is in a pretty hard-to-get-to spot," she said, "so you don't need to worry. No Shadows right here."
Ren nodded, though he knew the gesture was lost. "So, what's up? Something confidential?"
"Nah," Ann replied, "but I don't wanna drag everyone else down memory lane." Another moment of rustling. "Futaba's Shadow showed us, like, what happened. With her mom. You should probably know all that too."
"Right," Ren replied. He wasn't looking forward to it, but...yeah. He needed to know. "Thank you."
Ann was silent for a moment. "Apparently, Futaba had a lot of mental issues when she was younger. Like bad anxiety, social issues, meltdowns – stuff like that."
"Been there," Ren mumbled, smiling.
"Yeah, me too." Ann chuckled, quietly. "But Futaba's mom would scold her a lot, and apparently that distracted her from her work. Then..." Ann's voice broke, and she took an unsteady breath. "Futaba was there. When her mom died, she was there."
Ren's lungs wound themselves into knots. "Fuck," he said, barely louder than a breath.
"Yeah," Ann said, taking another breath in and out, "yeah. Then, apparently, some police bastards read her suicide note to the whole family, in front of her."
He didn't know what to say. Ren just stared at the wall, his heart aching out a bitter rhythm. Was it his pain or Ann's or Futaba's? At that moment, it didn't fucking matter.
"The cops said it was something called Maternity Psychosis," Ann's voice was unsteady still, but far angrier than melancholy, "that Futaba's mental issues made her mom go insane. They said to her whole family that Futaba being trans was part of the reason her mom killed herself, the fucking pigs!" A sharp breath, then a long sigh. "Sorry, it just pissed me the fuck off. Skull looked like he wanted to murder someone, and I don't fucking blame him."
He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Neither do I." Ren's hand clenched against his leg. Had the judges in his case made a similar assessment? Had they seen him as a delinquent just for saying he was a boy? And Sojiro had said Futaba's living relatives were unfit...Ren shook his head. He wasn't the only one who might be affected. "Panther, are you really doing alright? It's okay if you're not."
Ann paused. "I'll be alright. Gotta be honest, it fucking hurt seeing that. It's not just knowing that people were cruel to her, it's like...Futaba's been holding onto that, this whole time. It's been in the back of her head, and her Shadow said she deserved to die because of it." Ann laughed, quiet and bitter and dry as the desert sand. "She wants to die, because of it. And it feels awful, just seeing that and trying to find the right words and nothing sounds right and I can't reach her." She was quiet, for a moment. "Like Shiho all over again. Or, like how Shiho must have felt about me, back when I was...yeah."
Ren glanced towards Futaba's door. He hadn't had anyone like that, had he? He'd been alone in prison. His near-death had been an inconvenience. But he wouldn't let history repeat. The thought kept his heart steady, his blood flowing, his mind set firm. "We're going to save her. I promise we are."
"I know." A quiet rustling, and a soft sniffle. "I know. I want Futaba to know she's not alone. Shiho was there for me when I needed someone, and I couldn't be there for her. But I'm not gonna let Futaba die. No matter what."
"No matter what," Ren echoed. He felt the same. More than he could possibly articulate. "You guys should head back for the day. If anyone protests, let them know I'm ordering that."
"Yeah," Ann said, sounding a little surprised. "Sure, yeah, you got it."
"How much farther are you all from the Treasure?"
"Uh." Ann hesitated. "It looks like two or three floors away."
"Assuming you're all in good space to do so," Ren said, "I'd like to ask that you finish the infiltration tomorrow. One last push, then we can prepare Futaba's calling card. Do you think you can be ready for that?"
Ann burst out laughing. "Sorry, sorry. Fuck yeah I can, are you kidding!? It's about damn time we crack this Palace wide open!"
Ren grinned back. "I'll be leaving it to you all."
7/29 – Friday
Evening
Velvet Room, Lockdown
Justine handed her clipboard Compendium to her sister, then walked purposefully to the far end of the arena. Ren's heart was a mile-a-minute, but the girl looked utterly calm. "Have you prepared adequately, Inmate?"
"I'm a little short on skill cards," he admitted.
"No need for them," she replied. "I would prefer you fight with your raw strength, without relying on artificial enhancement."
Ren nodded. "Gun and knife are fine though? And changing Personas?"
Justine nodded. "Of course. To match your handicap, I will not weaponize the Compendium against you. I will only call on a single Persona during this match."
Despite himself, Ren glanced towards the impatient-looking Caroline. "If you think that's fair, I'm happy to accept those terms."
"Come onnn," Caroline whined. "Just beat each other up already, stop stalling."
"You heard my sister," Justine said, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "Let us begin, Inmate."
"Okay." Deep breath in, and out. One hand on his mask. "Ready when you are."
"Match start!" Caroline shrieked.
Ren flinched at the sound, and in that split-second, Justine raised a hand to her eyepatch. "Makajama," she said. A flash of blue and red, a heterochromatic gaze that ripped Ren's breath from his lungs. Some force that shot through him, blanked his mind and unwound his muscles. Three hands raised above, some whirling vortex between their fingers–
"It's wind!" shouted a voice in Ren's skull, a forceful echo like a wedge driven into his brain. "Call Fuu-Ki, now!"
"Fuu-Ki!" Ren shouted, the last words to leave his mouth before the gale struck him. He couldn't speak, or breathe, or move. Like standing in the eye of a storm. And then, it faded, leaving him gasping for air.
"You managed to anticipate the attack," Justine said, her voice almost muffled but distinctly impressed, "and change your Persona. That innate resistance saved your life. Even unable to summon it, you would have surely been defeated otherwise."
Unable to summon it? What did she mean? His hand flew to his face, to his...mask. Ren had called the Persona, he knew he did, but why didn't it answer? He couldn't feel its heartbeat through the porcelain, there was no figure of...what did the figure look like, again? Fuu-Ki, what was that? He shook his head. "What's going on? You didn't say anything about this earlier."
"This restriction is not a handicap," Justine replied, steady and simple. "I have made use of a skill to shift certain memories into your subconscious. Specifically, the memory of how to make use of your Personas."
Fuck. Ren scoured his brain, trying to recall what it was like, how to call on that power. He'd done it so naturally before, it was like second nature, right? But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find it, couldn't pin it down. But...maybe there was something else. He'd held onto the Wild Card apparently, for whatever reason that couldn't be locked away. Was there anything else he'd held onto? Anything at all that might help?
"Please prepare yourself, Inmate," Justine said. She raised her hand to her eyepatch again. "We have yet to conclude our fight." Three ethereal hands raised again, brought together into one, tensing as a boxer might brace before a punch.
"Are you quite sure your Arsene is a Persona?"
"Probably? What else would he be?"
"To reject and be rejected by one's other self, to be a human limiter to a violent and unpredictable mirror of one's shameful heart. That sounds more like a Shadow than a Persona to me."
Three hands slammed down.
"Lupin!" An unparalleled weight slammed into Ren's chest, and he cried out without hope of breath. Three flashes of silver across his gaze. That burden faded, his chest still tight, but the vice around it had loosened.
"Such a child is hardly a worthy bounty," came that familiar voice in that intolerable French accent, "but I can't have you dying on me, can I, boy?"
Ren swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath. He glanced past the gentleman thief towards Justine, whose mouth hung open, blinking at the very corporeal young man in front of her.
"Please regain your errant faculties," Lupin said, tossing his cane sheath to one side and raising one hand above his hand, stance like a practiced fencer. "I would rather not fight alongside a moron."
"Hope your sword's still as sharp as your tongue," Ren fired back. His mask was still there. Whatever he'd done to summon Lupin, it hadn't been as a Persona. But he couldn't linger. He drew his knife from its sheath and Ryuji's pistol from its holster. "Let's go!" He darted past Lupin, a dead sprint towards Justine.
That knocked her out of her daze. The girl backpedalled, hands out for balance. "Ardha, scatter!" When her eyepatch shattered, there was nothing to hide the mirrored scars on her face. That brand, the other half of a butterfly. Ren had feared as much, that Caroline's was one half of a pair. And his heart ached at the sight.
"Watch it!" came Lupin's voice from behind him.
Ren glanced up just in time to see a thousand golden bolts depending from above. He grit his teeth. "Lupin, cover me!" He adjusted his stance, scrambling backwards towards the not-Persona, pointing his pistol towards Justine. One shot, clear and true. He couldn't see if it struck, not before the bolts hit.
"Nullify!"
The impact was deafening, like thunderous drum beats blending into a single roaring assault. It might have lasted ten seconds, or thirty, but it felt like an eternity. Ren barely saw the barrier as Lupin dropped it.
"The polite thing to do," Lupin grumbled, one hand clutching his left arm, which hung limply by his side, "would be to thank me for saving your life. And to stop fucking ordering me around in the first–"
"Thank you," Ren said, firmly. His eyes flickered from the gentleman thief towards his opponent.
Justine was standing stiffly, one hand out, holding something small between her fingers that sparked with lingering voltage. Ren realized in that instant that she'd managed to catch the bullet. She flicked it away, shaking her hand off. Then, she glanced towards Ren and Lupin. "Interesting," she said. And she snapped her fingers. "Persona."
Ren braced for another attack, but none came. Instead, a soft green glow wrapped itself around him, and he felt an odd weight vanish from his mind, as if a veil had been lifted.
"Healing your opponent in a battle," Lupin quipped. "Quite the display of pity." He pointed his sword towards the girl. "Do you really think us in need of your assistance?"
"It is not pity," Justine said. "I am conceding this fight."
Ren felt at once relieved and perplexed. "We barely started, and that last attack injured Lupin's–"
"I'm fine," the young man snarled through grit teeth.
"I have come to realize," Justine said, slowly, thoughtfully, "that this battle would not satisfy me, nor would it prove a true test of your skills. As an Inmate, or a Trickster."
"A Trickster...?" Caroline mumbled, and Ren glanced over to see an odd expression on her face. Unusually thoughtful for the brash girl.
"I would like to retroactively adjust our agreement," Justine continued. "In exchange for proof of your strength, my sister and I will answer any questions you might have. We will not hold anything back."
"Hey!" Caroline snapped, regaining her usual bluster. "I didn't agree to that!"
"Proof of my strength, huh?" Ren reached up to spin a lock of hair around one finger. "How will you be evaluating that?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Lupin cut in. "The girls wish us to prove ourselves against a cooperative front. Two against two." Ren saw a grin widen beneath his top hat. "The twins wish us to defeat them both at once."
█████
Evening
Mementos, Entrance
The Trickster stood against the nearby wall, saying nothing, watching, waiting for her. They had unfinished business, after all.
"So you're █████, right? Joker's sister?" the young woman in the cat mask said. "Oh, I'm sorry! Would you rather go by Oracle?"
"Either is fine!" his sister chirped. Even beneath her mask, the Trickster could spy a blush forming. "Thank you for asking though very pretty lady."
The young woman in the cat mask giggled, and ruffled his sister's hair. "Aww, that's sweet. Thank you right back." She turned to introduce herself to–
"So, that's her?" The voice made the Trickster flinch, glancing over to see the boy in the black mask, one hand on his hip. "She's the one who left the Thieves?"
The Trickster looked back over, watching the young woman embrace his moon. "Yeah. That's her."
"From what I heard," the boy said, smirking beneath his mask, "she left because of your actions. Seems you're not as perfect as you let on."
"We both know I'm far from perfect," Ren shot back, glaring at the boy. "I'd rather not pull all the skeletons out of my closet right now, but I don't know where you get that assumption from."
Before either of them had a chance to continue, the young woman with the cat mask cleared her throat. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked. Steady, but just colder than friendly.
"Hardly," the boy said, smiling without a hint of joy. "It's a pleasure to meet you, after all this time. And tell me, how's–"
"Go fuck yourself, █████," she said, not breaking her deadpan.
The boy in the black mask scoffed. "Very well. I can see when I'm not wanted." With that, he turned on his heel, half-storming towards the escalator.
The Trickster focused fully on the young woman. "███," he said.
"███," she replied.
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
This was going about as well as to be expected. "It's good to have you back?" he offered.
The young woman sighed, reaching up to adjust a ponytail with one hand. "Maybe I wasn't clear before. I'm not 'back.' When I said I was leaving the Phantom Thieves, I meant it. I'm not here as a Thief, and I'm definitely not here for you."
"I understand," he said, as loud as he could bear.
"I'm here because I'm a Persona-user," she continued, "and it's all hands on deck. If this goes bad, it's not just the Thieves that'll suffer. Everyone will." The young woman in the cat mask spun her segmented dagger between her fingers, and it slipped out, clattering on the ground. She swore, and picked it back. "So yeah."
The Trickster nodded. What was he supposed to say? What did she expect from him? What could...no. No, this wasn't about him. She wasn't the one who'd hurt him. "I wish I could take it back. What happened between us. If I could, I'd do it different."
"Duh," she said, glaring at him, "I know–"
"But that doesn't take back that it did happen," he said, quietly. "I lied to you. I broke the promise I made to you, I hid important information, and I refused to reach out in fear of hurting you further, even when it was clear you needed that." He stared at the tile floor, taking a deep breath. "I recognize there is a rift between you and the Thieves because of me. I want to repair that. I'll accept that we're not friends, and I'll accept that we'll probably never be friends again. But you deserve better than to feel like I'm keeping you from people who care about you." Finally, he looked at her eyes again, those ever-careful blue eyes. "After this is over, can we talk about that?"
The young woman didn't say a word, for a time. "Assuming we live through this," she said, the fury gone from her tone, but exhaustion lingering between each word, "then I'd be happy to talk with you."
"Thank you," the Trickster said. "If there's any way for me to make this right, even partially, I want to try. You still mean a lot to me, ███. Even after everything."
She nodded. A smile, just a little. "Yeah," she said, "ditto."
Big thanks to Jane for helping beta read a few sections of this chapter! There were a couple moments I really wanted to make sure landed well, and I appreciate her so so much for looking them over.
