8/3 – Wednesday
Late Afternoon
Sojiro's House

The door to Futaba's room was open, and the light was on. The sight stalled Ren on the stairwell, throwing his heart into staccato. Did something happen? Did Futaba awakening to her Persona within her own Palace cause some sort of mental shutdown in her? The thought, even the implication, sent his blood into a fever pitch.

"Deep breaths," Morgana mewled, a quiet reminder.

Right, right. Ren placed a hand on his chest, forcing his breath to steady. Better to see first and panic later. But he didn't take more than a single step before Sojiro moved into the hallway, flipping the lights off as he left Futaba's room. "Sojiro," almost a gasp.

"Oh," Sojiro said, a little startled. "Good timing Ren, I was just about to go look for you."

"Is Futaba okay?" The words rushed from his lips, his hands tight on the strap of his bag.

The cafe owner nodded. "She's alright," he replied. "Just tuckered out." Sojiro chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Futaba gets like this sometimes. I think her brain just runs out of energy, and she needs a week or so to recharge. She should be back to normal eventually, but I think you might have to call a rain check on helping her open up."

"Okay." Ren took another long breath. "Would it be alright if I still came by sometime? I don't want to push her, but..." He shrugged. "If she's comfy with it, maybe having someone there would be nice, in case she needs anything."

Sojiro blinked, seeming to mull that over. "Same terms as last time," he said, firmly, "but I think that should be alright." And then he burst into quiet laughter. "You're an only child, aren't you, Ren?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Just find it a bit funny." He crossed in front of Ren, patting his shoulder as he did. "You're acting like one hell of a good big brother right now."


8/4 – Thursday
Evening
Cafe Leblanc

It was a quiet day. Locusts chirping through the closed door, only a few customers popping in for refuge from the heat, and the world outside seeming to turn a little slower in the sunbaked air.

"I wanted to say thank you," Sojiro began.

Ren stored the broom next to the fridge. "All my friends are busy today. Besides, it was kind of fun." Unlike the previous three Palaces, it seems that the exhaustion of their extended infiltration had finally gotten to the Thieves. That, and the heat. There was definitely an air of victory at another job well done, but everyone seemed far too tired to consider anything celebratory. Even Morgana had spent the entire day passed out on Ren's bed.

"I meant about Futaba." Sojiro smiled, leaning back against the far end of the counter. "I'm thankful for the help around here too, but helping her the way you did..." He chuckled softly. "I think I still have trouble believing it."

"It was mostly her," Ren said, hands in his pockets, unable to meet the man's gaze. Something about the praise felt hard to swallow here, felt undeserved. "I helped, sure, but Futaba did most of the work."

"I don't doubt she did a lot," Sojiro agreed. "Futaba's always been strong, and stubborn. She has her way of doing things, but her ways work well for her. You're the first person who's actually been able to work with her in the ways she needs. That's not nothing." He was quiet for a moment. "You know I suck at this sort of thing, right?"

"You're doing fine?" he offered.

Sojiro laughed. "Hey, Ren, do you have any plans tonight?"

Ren shook his head.

"Then how about I teach you how to make curry?"

Ren finally glanced up, at the cafe owner's soft smile. "Uh," he said. "I mean...yeah. Yes please. Thank you."


"I think you got it in one," Sojiro commented, gesturing across the booth with his fork. "Nice work, Ren."

Ren shrugged. "It's not as good as yours," he said.

"It's different," Sojiro said, "but that doesn't make it worse. Even with the same recipe, every chef is gonna cook it in their own way."

"I guess so." He took another bite, rolling the flavor around in his mouth. It was definitely different, a little distinct. He couldn't piece out the vector of change, it all blended together, some stark and curious uniqueness to it.

"I know so." Sojiro smiled. "I always thought my curry was so much worse than Wakaba's, but she always told me she preferred mine. Maybe we're all just our own worst critics."

Ren blinked. "You taught Wakaba too?"

"Not quite," Sojiro said. "She taught me." He leaned back in the booth, glancing up at one of the light fixtures above them. "It was her recipe originally. She'd always make it when I came over, but I never got sick of it. So, eventually, I asked her for the recipe." He chuckled. "Well, I really asked her to go out with me, and then after she said no, I asked her to teach me. She took the second one a lot better than the first."

Ren couldn't help the snort of laughter that bubbled out of him.

Sojiro waved a hand. "Sure, laugh it up." He picked up his empty plate and scooted out of the booth. "But when it comes to curry quality, you and I aren't the real litmus tests." He winked over his shoulder at Ren. "You've gotta get the Futaba stamp of approval first."


8/5 – Friday
Morning
Cafe Leblanc, Attic

"Hey Ren!" Sojiro called from downstairs. "Someone's here to see you!"

"Yusuke arrived awful quick," Morgana noted, hopping off Ren's bed and stretching out his whole body. "Didn't he say he'd stop by this afternoon?"

"Guess he wanted some coffee," Ren said. He slipped his last shoe on, grabbed his bag and phone, and headed downstairs – his feline friend a step behind him on the stairs.

"–my date of activation was sixteen years ago," came a voice from the cafe that was definitely not Yusuke's, "I experienced an incredibly rapid cognitive development during my first year of life. In truth, I am most likely in my early twenties."

Ren froze at the bottom of the stairs. Morgana collided with the back of his leg, but the impact only registered secondary to the sight of the woman he hadn't seen since May. Blonde hair, wearing something like earphones, with a long black coat, white gloves and a bright red tie.

Sojiro, who looked deeply confused, glanced towards Ren on the staircase. "How exactly did you two meet?" he said, slowly.

"Work," Aigis said, before Ren could answer. "My employer is engaged in a student outreach program."

"She works for the Kirijo Group." Ren stepped down off the staircase, not sure whether he wanted to hug Aigis or glare a hole through her head. Morgana leapt up on one of the nearby booth tables, watching the scene. "I've been considering an internship there, I guess."

Sojiro raised an eyebrow. "You never told me that."

Ren shrugged. "I'm still pretty far from convinced. Especially considering their employees keep showing up here unannounced." He stared pointedly at Aigis.

"I'm sorry," she said, bowing her head ever so slightly. "I didn't know any better way of getting in contact with you."

"Mitsuru has my phone number," he said.

Aigis looked dead at him with an odd, empty intensity. "I'm here on my own behalf, not hers." The tone of her voice hadn't changed, but something had. A shiver crossed Ren's spine. "I realize this is quite rude of me, but would you mind inviting me upstairs? I have something important to discuss with you."

Ren blinked. "Uh," he said, glancing to the utterly lost Sojiro, then back to Aigis.

"What if it's about Oxymoron?" Morgana chimed in. "We should hear what she has to say."

That tipped the indecision scales. Infuriating or not, that sort of information wasn't easily discarded. "Fine," he grumbled, turning on his heel and doing his best not to stomp back upstairs.

He could hear a fragment of Aigis's "–thank you for–" before she was out of earshot. The scrabble of paws, and the clunk of heavy footsteps, and first Mona then Aigis entered the attic.

"You have a lovely room," Aigis began, glancing around.

"You've got something to tell me," Ren said, walking to his bed and sitting down on it. Then, remembering she couldn't likely understand him when his back was turned, he continued: "What's this important thing?"

Aigis nodded, immediately solemn. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small tan box. Crossing the distance, she handed it to Ren.

Not sure how to process her silence, Ren took the box and pulled the top off. Inside, sitting plain and slightly crumpled, was a ribbon the same crimson color as Aigis's tie. "It's a ribbon," he said, deadpan. "Should I...know what this is supposed to mean?"

"I don't expect so." She held her hand out, and he returned the box to her. Aigis stared down at the ribbon with what might have been longing, and then closed the box, pocketing it. "That ribbon belonged to someone very precious to me. I would like to know how Oxymoron got her hands on it." She fiddled with the side of her headphones. "I have already consulted with Narukami, and he had no information to share. So I would like to ask you the same question I asked him: does the name Arisato mean anything to you?"

Ren would have replied immediately, but the android's intense stare kept his tongue. He thought back, racked his brain. Did the name mean anything to him? Anything at all? Any wisp or hint of memory? "Sorry, it doesn't."

Aigis nodded. "I apologize for taking up your time. Thank you, Ren." She smiled. "It wasn't the answer I was hoping to hear, but I greatly appreciate it nonetheless."

Morgana hopped up on the bed, plopping down to face Aigis. "If that ribbon is theirs, did they lose it somehow? Or is it some sort of future duplicate?"

"I don't know." She let out a soft breath, steam drifting out between her lips. "It's been six years since I saw them last. They didn't have the ribbon then, and I didn't go through their belongings." So, Arisato was missing? Or...

"If I run into this Arisato person," Ren offered, "then I'll tell you."

She still smiled, but it felt fairly melancholic now. "You won't," she said, simply. "Unfortunately, I don't believe your path will ever cross with theirs. Not in this life, at least."


8/5 – Thursday
Afternoon
Shibuya Family Diner

"I told you that I would fill you in on my investigation into my mother's lover once I made some progress," Yusuke said. "Now is indeed that time."

Ren nodded. "I'm all ears."

"Me too!" Morgana chirped, his paws up on the table.

Yusuke chuckled. "I suppose I should start by saying I have yet to find the woman she painted. But I have managed to connect to one of my mother's friends." Fork tapping against the table next to the omelette he'd barely eaten. "It was quite a search, to be honest."

"How'd you find them?" Ren asked.

"Something Madarame's Shadow said, it got stuck in my head." He seemed reticent to admit as much. "About his time in university with my mother. I decided that was as good a place to start my search as any. Thankfully, it wasn't that difficult to find a listing of alumni who graduated the same year."

Ren blinked. "You...Yusuke, did you just call every person who went to school with your mom?"

"Not all of them," Yusuke said, with a sheepish grin. "I only called a few. Uh, but I did email the rest."

"That's Yusuke for you." Morgana shook his fluffy head. "At least it paid off."

"Indeed." Yusuke took a long breath, as if composing himself. "Her name is Henrietta. She's an abstract painter, lives in Germany now if I remember correctly. She moved to Japan for university, then back once she graduated. But she was my mother's roommate for a few years."

Ren whistled. "Sounds like a good lead."

"She's been reaching out to other alumni my mother may have known," he continued, "and with any luck..." He let the implication stretch.

"Fingers crossed," Morgana said.

Yusuke didn't say anything, just stared off into space. Perhaps bored by the lapse of conversation, Morgana slipped back into his bag.

"Hey, uh," Ren started, then realized he had no idea how to address this. "So, you remember what you told me a couple months ago? Like, after we found out Madarame's heart changed."

Yusuke's expression, at first confused, bloomed into a somewhat embarrassed understanding. "I remember," he said, slowly.

"So I wanted to talk about that," Ren continued, "I mean, if it's okay with you. I'm not upset or anything, but I just don't want things to be weird between us. Cause you're my friend, and I care about you, so like..." He gestured, hoping that it would carry the sentiment better than his rambling breath. "Yeah."

"Yeah," Yusuke echoed. He leaned forward in the booth, staring across the restaurant, his chin on his hand and his elbow on the table. "I care about you as well, Ren. I apologize for my silence on the matter until this point, I hope that didn't put you in an awkward situation, emotionally speaking."

Ren shook his head. "No, that's fine, I mostly feel bad for not bringing it up sooner."

"I see." Yusuke chuckled, then glanced towards Ren. Smiling, sort of comfortable, maybe, content. "I thought about it quite a lot after that night. I think I can say now, with confidence, that I am no longer in love with you."

Ren blinked. He...well he definitely hadn't expected that. He nodded, a silent prompt.

"I don't deny that I felt quite strongly before," he continued, "but I feel some of that came from the fact that, at that point, I barely knew you. I'd formed quite an idea of you in my own head, from our interactions. You helped push me towards the truth I had refused to accept. I believed, and I still do, that you saved my life. But you did quite completely shatter my image of you that night." Yusuke laughed. "Seeing you floundering around your own emotions, in complete denial about feelings that seemed so obvious to me...I simply didn't feel I could put you on quite the same pedestal as I had before."

Ren felt his cheeks heat up. "Glad I could help," he replied, a little grumpy, and Yusuke burst out laughing at his expression.

"I still care so very much about you," Yusuke said, "but my feelings have changed." He shifted in the booth. "I won't deny I felt quite jealous of Ryuji, for a short while. I am happy to report that is no longer an issue." He smiled, wide and honest. "Even if I could change our relationship, Ren, I don't believe I would want to. I like being your friend."

"I'm glad." Ren smiled back. "I like being your friend too."


8/6 – Friday
Afternoon
Shujin Academy, Student Council Room

"I'm not keeping you from anything important, am I?" Makoto asked.

Ren shook his head. "I agreed to take some dinner to Futaba later, but that's not for another couple of hours." He picked up one of the nearest pieces of paper from the dozens that covered the small table between them. "I'm assuming this letter calling you a bitch is non-essential."

Makoto snorted. "You can put that with the rest, yes." Her eyes flickered across the form in her hands. "And thank you for agreeing to help. I think I've said it five or six times, but I still appreciate it."

"No worries. I still think the other council members should be pitching in more, even on strike. But I'm happy to lend a hand." Ren picked up another paper. "Do you have a pile for letters of support?"

"Right over there." Makoto pointed to the much smaller pile next to the leaning tower of condemnations.

Ren gingerly placed both letters in their appropriate locations. "Hey, Makoto, how good are you at multitasking? There's something I'm kind of curious about, but I don't want to distract you."

"I can multitask." She glanced at him over the form, then filed it in a nearby drawer. "Ask away."

"It's about your codename." Ren skimmed another hate letter for any complaints of merit, then scooted it into the pile. "You mentioned something about...doing Johanna's name justice, when you asked us to call you Queen. I guess I'm wondering what you meant by that; if you don't mind sharing."

Makoto was silent a moment. "Johanna," she said, quietly, almost thoughtfully, "is one of the names given to a particular legendary figure within the Catholic Church. 'Pope Joan,' who pretended to be a man in order to rise to the highest position within the church. I heard about her when I was a child, I think my father had a book on her." She filed the form, then picked up another. "I don't know why, but I think...when I heard her story, it really upset me. She couldn't have become pope if she wasn't talented, but she had to pretend to be someone else in order for those talents to be worth anything. So when Johanna emerged in Kaneshiro's Palace, it felt like that was my heart telling me something."

Ren nodded. "I can relate to that, I think."

"Something else stuck in my head too." Makoto fiddled with the paper, fingers flicking the edge. "Joan, or Johanna, ruled as a pope, but I guess I convinced myself she would have wanted to be popess. I felt like, if I were her, I wouldn't have wanted to pretend." She chuckled. "I suppose for me, it ended up being sort of the opposite."

Something felt careful about this. Delicate, a palpable tension between her words. "Do you feel like you're pretending to be a girl?" he asked. "Like you're faking it by acting like one?"

Makoto seemed to consider that. She gestured to her buzzcut. "This is me. I know that. When I'm in the Metaverse, when I'm Queen, that feels like me. I guess I'd rather not wear a skirt every day, but I don't mind being seen as a girl." She paused again. "I don't want to be a man. I don't know if I'm a girl, but I'm absolutely positive I'm not a guy."

"I'm glad," Ren said. "Uh, that you know yourself. And that you feel comfy enough to share that with me. I don't think you're faking it, I wasn't asking cause I assumed you were. I just know it feels to pretend like that."

"Do you feel like you're pretending now?" Makoto said. "Like there's something you're holding back?"

Ren wasn't sure how to answer that. "Uh," he mumbled, "something something everyone wears a mask."

Makoto laughed. "I see." She turned her attention back to sorting. "For the record, I don't think you're faking either. I don't suspect you've shown me anything of yourself that isn't you, in some way."

He didn't have anything to say to that. But he hoped she was right.


8/6 – Friday
Evening
Sojiro's House

Futaba was still in bed when Ren entered, but her eyes were open. Staring across the room at him as he closed the door.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I brought some curry from Sojiro." He crossed around the foot of her bed, then gestured to her chair. "Would it be alright if I sat down?"

Futaba nodded.

He carefully sat, then placed the tupperware of curry on Futaba's bedside table. "It'll be here when you're ready for it. No rush."

She stared at him, or past him. "You're here," she mumbled. "I thought you'd leave."

Maybe she was delirious, but something in his chest ached, pulling at his ribs. "I'm here," he echoed. "I said I wouldn't go, and I'm not going to. No matter what, I'm here."

"People say that sometimes." She turned her head towards the wall, clutching a stuffed blue cat with limbs as long as its torso, holding it tight. "Last time...last time she left."

"Do you..." His words caught in his throat, and he stalled. "Do you mean your mom?"

"Mom didn't leave," Futaba replied, "she died. It's not the same thing." Simple, as if she were explaining it to a child. "Kana left."

"Kana?" The name left his lips before he could stifle his curiosity.

"Friend," she said. "After I moved in with Sojiro. We liked the same stuff, had the same brain things. Other kids thought I was weird. She said we'd always be friends, but then she left." A sound, like a whine. "I think I scared her. I think I did something bad."

"Futaba," he said, quietly. "I promise, I won't leave. I know it doesn't mean much, just to say it, but I'll keep on coming back until you believe it. I swear that. You're my–" Sister. The word clung to his tongue. Stubborn, like a cough stuck in his throat. "You're my friend."

"Mm," she said, like a quiet acknowledgment. Still staring at the wall. "I should have told you sooner. Then maybe it wouldn't have gotten so bad."

"Maybe." Ren reached out a hand, then pulled it back. She wouldn't be comfortable with that. "But I'm glad you did tell me...I'm really, really glad."


█████
Late Afternoon
Mementos

The Trickster wiped the sweat from his mask. "You're a lot stronger than I remember." The young man in the fox mask offered him a hand, and he took it, standing back up with the other's help.

"I've been training." The young man adjusted his popped collar. "I haven't been neglecting my paintings, but the imminent threat of apocalypse has adjusted my priorities."

"I guess it's good to keep busy," the Trickster said. "I think I've probably been slacking a lot. Same reason, I think."

"Depression?" the young man in the fox mask asked.

"Whole lot of it, yeah." The Trickster brushed off his coat and adjusted his mask. "I'm not going to school, I don't have a job, I don't really have any hobbies. I sleep in pretty much every day, and I don't get up unless someone else needs me." He stared down the twisted tunnel, as if searching for some meaning in the lifeless crimson veins. "I think I'm just waiting. I can't think of anything worth doing, so I...wait. Wait for December, wait for the end."

"I see." A hand on the Trickster's shoulder. "You've done quite a lot already, ███. You're in an unenviable position, and you've already done everything required of you. Now, you can leave the rest to us. We'll save this world, and you along with it."

The Trickster smiled softly, even as it hurt. "You're holding out hope, huh?"

The young man in the fox mask scoffed, as if he was insulted by the question. "I am a Phantom Thief. It's somewhat of my job to maintain hope in hopeless situations. I learned that from you."

Footsteps in the emptiness. The Trickster tensed. "Oracle, is that a Shadow?"

"I come in peace!" came a familiar voice from farther down the hallway. "No Shadows here, only a fr-" A stutter-step in her throat, clipping the middle of her word, and she paused to catch her breath. "-a friend!"

"Sorry Joker," his sister's voice in his ear, "I miiiight have told her you that guys were training."

"We're participating in male bonding," the young man said, feigning exaggerated insult, a hand on his chest. "I don't believe either I or Joker extended an invitation."

The Trickster's sister made a raspberry into the coms. "You know I can't say no to a cute girl! I'm way too gay for that."

The girl in the black mask stepped out into the light. "I don't mean to interr-" pause, breath, "interrupt, I just hoped to get some training in as well. I've been too busy to consider it, these past couple weeks."

"You've been taking care of █████, right?" the Trickster asked.

"Yep!" the girl in the black mask said, beaming. "She's doing a whole lot better. I'm really proud of her. But that means I can't slack either! If I'm going to protect her, I need to be strong." She patted her bicep, and giggled. "Would you mind if I joined you both?"

The young man tilted his head, a hand on his chin with melodramatic flair. "I suppose that would be alright."

"Same here." The Trickster drew his knife, flipping it between his fingers. "Show me what you've got, Violet."

"With pleasure!" She raised a hand to her mask, and opened her mouth to call–

Ren woke up. It was dark. Computers hummed softly in the background, pale white and dark green across the walls. Futaba's eyes were closed, she looked asleep. Ren massaged the bridge of his nose. He'd been dreaming, about familiar faces and then...

Who was that girl? That 'Violet.' Not a Phantom Thief, there hadn't been anyone like her in the photo. A Persona user, that was clear. He tried as hard as he could to cling to the dream, to remember her face, her voice, anything. It blurred, and twisted around itself. He couldn't hold on. Ren sighed. Guess he could file that away as another unwelcome surprise, another mystery that would solve itself as he watched.

For once, assuming his brain would ever cooperate, Ren decided he'd prefer something tangible. A clear puzzle that he could actually solve. Something cathartic, satisfying.

He'd take control of this, if he could.