8/14 – Saturday
Afternoon
Takemi Medical Clinic
Takemi had called a rain check on their last meeting, asking Ren to stop by that weekend to pick up a med refill that hadn't been ready yet. He'd assumed she'd been busy, but seeing the doctor now – passed out, her head on the reception desk, snoring softly – gave a much different impression.
"Maybe we should let her sleep?" Morgana offered, his paws on Ren's shoulder.
Ren considered that. "She said she had a refill, I don't wanna miss that." He cleared his throat, raising his voice just a little. "Doctor Takemi? Miss?"
She stirred, grumbling something between breaths. Before Ren could call her name again, the pale doctor started, bolting upright and blinking at her patient. "Amamiya," she said, confused. "Why are you...it's not Wednesday yet, is it?"
"Um," he replied, "no, it's Saturday. You told me to come back and get my refill today."
Takemi stared at him, the gears turning in her head. "I did tell you that. Right, right of course, I must have forgotten to write it down." She massaged the bridge of her nose, leaning back in her chair. "I'll unlock the patient room, one moment." Takemi stood, slipping out of sight. A few seconds later, a click of the lock, and she pushed the door open. "Come on in."
Ren obliged, watching the back-alley doctor immediately head towards her desk, pulling open drawers and digging her hands through piles of bottles. "Are you, uh, okay?"
"I'm fine." Short, blunt, and a lie. Ren knew he could struggle to read people sometimes, but he could tell Takemi wasn't being honest with him.
He sat down on the examination table, sliding his bag off his shoulder. How best to phrase this... "Didn't you tell me about how much damage fatigue could do? Sort of hypocritical, pretending it's nothing."
She paused. "I also told you I wasn't your therapist," her voice low, like a warning. "And that goes double the other way."
It wasn't easy to keep steady, to push onward. But what sort of a person would Ren be to let this slide? "I'm not trying to fix it," he said. "I just don't like watching people hurt. So, even if it's just a little, I want to try and help."
A belt of laughter from the normally composed doctor. Her shoulders shook with quiet mirth, silent and uncontrollable. "Fucking hell." Takemi slumped into her chair, still facing away from Ren. "Don't take this the wrong way, but being desperate enough to seriously consider a helping hand from a teenager? That would be a rather significant blow against my pride."
He understood, but those words still sparked something in him. "I've been fighting too, you know. I know what it's like. And I get that you don't want to feel weak, asking for help from a fucking kid or however you see me, but I've been through a lot more than you think." Gripping around the thin line across his left wrist, as if it would hold something shameful in. "You don't have to tell me anything, just don't treat me like I'm a child."
A silence, tense but perhaps one-sidedly so. "I'm sorry. That was unkind of me, you're right." He hadn't expected the apology, and it took him by surprise. Takemi shifted her chair around to face Ren, her expression unreadable. "How exactly did you plan on trying to help me?"
"Uh," he begged his mind to function again, "I guess it depends on the problem." He reached up, spinning a strand of hair around one finger. "I know people in a lot of different places. One of them might be able to help with what you're struggling with."
She seemed to consider that. When Takemi spoke again, it was quiet. "You asked me a while back about the nickname Plague. About the patient who died under my care."
"From that Craw...something or other?" Ren mumbled.
A little, honest smile. "Crawford-Ende's. That...what I told you back then wasn't entirely truthful. I didn't lie, per se, but I wasn't forthcoming with the details." She seemed to catch herself, then sent a glare towards Ren. "Not that I owe you those details, let me be clear. I'm telling you for my own sake."
He just nodded. "Of course."
"Good." Takemi's gaze seemed to wander, distant, like she was drifting into memories. "After I left the JDF, I managed to get hired at a university, not too far from here." Her posture seemed more tense than before, her left fingers tracing a steady pressure against the back of her right hand. "The head of the medical department there, man by the name of Shiochi Oyamada, wasn't the fondest of me. We had our disagreements, workplace spats here and there. But we kept things formal." Takemi sighed, reaching up to fiddle with her odd bullet-shaped necklace. "A girl at the university developed Crawford-Ende's, and the medical board saw a chance for PR, so they assigned our department to research a cure."
"I'd meant to ask, when you mentioned..." Ren hesitated. Would it be impolite to get ahead of her? But Takemi was quiet, as if waiting for the inquiry. "You said you weren't the only one working on the treatment, but you didn't say anyone else got treated like a pariah. Did you get scapegoated?"
Takemi blinked at him. A moment of quiet, as her expression slowly settled back to controlled. "I'm surprised you'd have guessed that," she said, adding before he could respond: "and yes, I was. At least in part. Oyamada had promised results we weren't delivering, and he went against my strong recommendations, administering the incomplete treatment." She let out a long breath. "The girl died soon after."
"I'm sorry," Ren said.
"In the aftermath," she continued, "he provided both school board and press with falsified copies of my reports that approved the treatment for early application. It was my word against his, and I lost." Takemi sighed, frustrated. "A few weeks ago, I managed to find another patient with Crawford-Ende's. She was considering pursuing treatment at that same university, and I managed to convince her to allow me to treat her instead. Oyamada still owns every report I ever made on our treatment, so I'm trying recreate it from memory. But if I can't produce results, I'll have to ask her to take her chances with that chronically negligent moron."
Ren nodded, taking that all in. Of his contacts, those he could trust even a little, a certain well-informed woman sprung to mind. "If you'll let me, I'd like to get you in contact with someone. She's a reporter, and I'm pretty sure she'd love a scoop like yours. Maybe if you get your story out there, that could put enough pressure on Oyamada to admit the truth." Or, perhaps a certain group of Phantom Thieves would have plausible deniability to act against him.
Takemi turned her chair back around, returning to her previous – somehow unforgotten – task. A silent search, and a silent office. "I'll give it a try," she said, finally. "Thank you."
8/15 – Sunday
Morning
Cafe Leblanc, Attic
"That's a little dangerous, isn't it?" Makoto asked from her spot on the couch. "I assume your own doctor would know you well enough figure out you enacted a change of heart on her behalf."
Ren nodded. "It's definitely a risk. I understand if that changes your minds on pursuing this."
"It doesn't for me," Ann said, next to Makoto on the couch. "If someone might get hurt because of this Oyamada guy, we need to step in."
"At the very least," Yusuke added, glancing up from his sketchbook, "we should hold the man accountable for his crimes. Such negligence should not be overlooked."
"Sounds like we're all in agreement then." Mona preened himself on Ren's desk. "Once Doctor Takemi's story gets published, we'll change Oyamada's heart."
Ryuji cracked his knuckles. "Bout time we got back in the swing of things! Feels like we haven't had a job for ages. I mean, 'sides Mishima."
"Speaking of," Ren said, "I've got some news to share with the rest of you." He took a deep breath in, running through the words in his head. Simple as they were, he did not want to mess this up. "Mishima is doing a lot better, and she's wants us to know she's a girl. Just 'Mishima,' she and her for pronouns, with us and Shiho. At school, she still wants us to call her a guy, but...yeah."
He took in the Thieves' reactions carefully. A room full of surprise, but no apparent discomfort. Ann, of course, looked neither. "And, I think it's probably a good idea if we don't make a big deal of it? It's uncomfortable enough for her being open about this to anyone, so I think we should try our best to help her feel like it's a natural change."
"Um," Ryuji said, "I mean, fuck yeah, consider it undealed." He leaned back and let out a long whistle. "Do girls have 'guys night?' I mean, I don't want to invite her out with that if she's not cool with it."
"You two could have girls night together," Makoto said, with a teasing smile.
Ryuji seemed to genuinely consider it. "Yeah, I guess we could."
"Could one of you pass on my congratulations?" Yusuke asked. "Since I'm not a Shujin Student." His face brightened up. "Ah! If Miss Mishima is interested in diversifying her wardrobe, perhaps myself and Ann could act as fashion consultants."
Ann grinned. "Oh, totally! That sounds like so much fun." She giggled. "Finally, I can do one of those romcom makeover montages with someone."
"I'll let her know," Ren laughed.
Three resonant knocks on the banister. All eyes turned towards the girl standing in the entrance to the attic, and all eyes widened.
Shorts, black boots, a casual t-shirt and a green jacket with the fluffiest collar he'd ever seen. And orange hair that seemed actually brushed, though Ren could still spy a few lingering knots.
"Hi," Futaba said. "Uh, can I, um, hang out here? I wanna talk to you guys, if that's okay."
"You're always welcome here," Morgana said, hopping from the desk onto the bed.
"Okay." Futaba crossed the room, staring at the floor the whole time, and plopped down on the bed between Ren and Morgana. "I wanted to ask...I don't know if I belong here, or if you want me, but I want to be here. I want to be a Phantom Thief." Hands in her lap, knuckles against each other.
Ren glanced around the room, to each and every Thief – the same sentiment shared six times over – and then back to Futaba. "The Phantom Thieves make these sorts of decisions unanimously. So, all in favor?" Five hands and a paw, each raised in an instant.
The girl's gaze skimmed the votes, then lowered again. "Thank you," she said, quietly. "I'll try my best. I wanna be useful, and pay you guys back for how much you've helped me."
"Miss Sakura," Yusuke said, clear and kind. "I believe I shared such a sentiment when I first joined the Thieves. But let me assure you, you owe no such debt to any of us." His eyes flicked towards Ren, then back. "Your presence here is not as an asset, and you deserve to be here regardless of what literal benefit we gain from your assistance."
Futaba quirked an eyebrow, clearly confused.
"I mean to say," he corrected, stumbling over his words, "that you are not a burden. Your struggles – and your 'usefulness' to our efforts as Phantom Thieves – do not define you, nor do they define your worth as a Phantom. I for one, would value your membership even if you had nothing to offer us."
"Yeah, same here," Ryuji added. "You kicked ass in your Palace, like that was some gutsy shit there, but you're still like..." He gestured wildly at the air. "You're our friend! So, like, I'm mostly just excited to be working with you and shit."
"I think," Futaba mumbled, "um, I mean, thank you. I think it might take me some time to get used to being around people, so, uh, if I'm shy or not good at this then please don't think I hate you."
"Of course, Futaba," Ann said, smiling softly. "I get it, you've been on your own for a long time, so of course it's gonna be tricky to suddenly be around a bunch of people."
"Even people as cool and wonderful as us," Morgana mewled, rubbing up against Futaba's arm.
She giggled. "Okay. Um, I'll do my best with that too."
"I know you will," Ren said.
Without a word, Futaba leaned over and rested the side of her head on his arm. Not quite an embrace, but the closest to one he'd gotten from her, and it sent a silent, joyous pang through him. Like pride.
"Oh!" Ryuji started in place. "What if, like, we did some hangout stuff? Like we all got together and hit up the arcade, or the movie theater. So that way, we can celebrate Futaba joining the Thieves, and she can get used to being around us!"
"Hell yeah!" Ann broke into a wide grin. "That sounds like so much fun."
"I do think I need to take a break from sorting complaints," Makoto said with a sheepish smile. "This sounds as good an excuse as any."
"We should probably start small, like hangouts at Leblanc, and work our way up to big public stuff from there," Ren added. "There's no rush to take the bigger steps all at once, right?"
"Hrm," Futaba mumbled. Quiet, like she seemed to be considering it. "I think," she sounded almost scared to speak up, but putting on a brave face, "I have a few ideas."
Ren reached an arm over, tentatively pulling the girl into a sideways embrace, ready to let go the moment she expressed any discomfort. But Futaba leaned closer, and he could feel her sort of relax into the hug. Like she was comfortable with him; and the thought made him happy.
8/15 – Sunday
Evening
Futaba's Room
"You don't have to clean or anything," Futaba said. Louder than a mumble, now that it was just the two of them – and Morgana, of course, though he was asleep on her bed at the moment. "It's just nice having you here."
Ren slipped the trash bag under one arm so he could face Futaba. "I like doing nice things for the people I care about. It makes me happy."
She stared at her computer screen, fingers flickering across the keyboard. "You're really kind."
"I'm just trying my best." He leaned back down, scooting the smaller bags into the larger one.
The hum of her computers, and the clicking of keys. "I wanna do nice things for you too," Futaba said, abruptly. "You're like...I dunno." A moment of hesitance. "I wanna be more like you, Ren. You're really cool, and smart, and you're brave enough to be vulnerable around people, and I wanna be like that too."
Ren just smiled, letting those words flow down his spine and settle, warm and wonderful, somewhere deep inside him. "I'm not really used to people looking up to me like that," he said. "It's nice, I guess. I feel like I want to keep making you proud, keep on fighting so you don't have to." He laughed, despite himself. "Kinda makes us sound like siblings, doesn't it?"
"Kinda." She giggled. Quiet, like a song. "I mean, we've got the same guardian."
"We do," Ren said. He wasn't sure why this was difficult, but it was. Something about the implication came uneasy, inadequate. Not the role itself, but Ren filling it. Like he wasn't good enough for that. "I guess, I don't know if I'd be good at that. Being your brother."
Futaba mumbled something under her breath, then glanced over her shoulder at him. Sort of focused, and firm, like the implication of a glare. Then, she turned back around. "I'm not good at a lot of things," she said. "Being happy, and comfortable, and being a person. You said I should still try, right? It's okay to mess up?"
"Of course–" he began.
"Pot," she said, quick, "I'm kettle." Then she turned her head again, sticking her tongue out, before bursting into quiet giggles.
And Ren couldn't think of a thing to say, and nothing to do but keep cleaning, and smile.
8/16 – Monday
Afternoon
Cafe Leblanc, Attic
"Should we start with Featherman Victory, or Featherman R?" Ann held up both DVD boxes, one in each hand, as if physically weighing the two.
"A difficult decision..." Futaba rubbed her chin, glancing from box to box.
Makoto glanced towards Ren, looking distinctly out of her element, before offering: "what are the differences?"
"Featherman R," Ann began, raising the leftmost box slightly higher, "is the original, like forty years ago. It's got all the practical effects, wires and pyro and costumes and stuff, plus it's got some of the best characters, but the writing is kinda meh at parts and it can drag. Featherman Victory on the other hand," lowering one box, raising the other, "is the reboot they did like five years ago. This is the one with Miss Yukari in it, and it looks a lot flashier and it's got some better writing, but they use way too much CGI. The action's really good though, and it doesn't spend as much time just fucking around."
Ren had expected Futaba to chime in, but a glance towards the girl showed her jaw practically on the floor. "Wha–" She stumbled over her words for a moment, kicking her feet rapidly off the side of the couch, stuttering out a string of meaningless sounds. "That's not fair! You can't be pretty, and gay, and have good taste! That's fucking cheating! I call hacks."
Ann burst out laughing, doubled over, nearly dropping both boxes on the ground. "That's sweet," she wheezed, taking a deep breath in. "You're really pretty too, Futaba, I hope you know that."
Futaba brought her shoulders up to her ears, her face extremely red, as she spluttered out further flustered noises.
Makoto reached over to the table, grabbed the remote and hit pause. Then she whirled towards Ann, her expression somewhere between gleeful and flabbergasted. "La Pantera? Panther!?"
Ann froze, then smacked herself in the face. "Damnit."
8/17 –Tuesday
Afternoon
Cafe Leblanc
Ren let out a low whistle, staring over Yusuke's shoulder at the cards spread out across the booth table. "Can you do anything about that?"
"I'm not quite sure," Yusuke mumbled, "but either way, I'd like to see how this plays out."
"Your funeral, dude." Ryuji squinted at the cards in his hand. "Uh, okay. Yo, Taba, am I reading this right?" He held out a card to her. "So I can use this now, and like, do the cool thing with the big dragon you said earlier."
"Mhm!" Futaba grinned, rocking back and forth on the booth behind him, her elbows up on the divider. "Do it do it do it."
Ryuji laughed, quick and excited. "Fuck yeah I will! A'ight, so I play this," he flashed the card, "and toss these guys back with the rest, and bring out this big lightning-dragon motherfucker, and then I've got this little dragon dude, and I'm gonna throw that in the bin to go get two more, and now the big dragon is gonna blow up your cool samurai dude, and then I'm gonna do that two more times to your other two guys with the other two dragons."
"I see." Yusuke stared at the table, and then at his cards, and then at Ryuji. "I seem to have been distinctly outplayed, and I am now very dead." He smiled, extending a hand over the table. "Well played, Ryuji."
"Yeah man, you too." Ryuji shook Yusuke's hand, then began to scoop up his cards.
"I was pretty sure you had him there for a bit," Ren said.
"As was I." Yusuke chuckled. "But Futaba's tutelage proved frighteningly effective."
Futaba gave a mischievous giggle. "We can put that to the test right now. Cause I'm his next opponent."
Ryuji slumped back, letting out all the breath in his lungs at once. "Yoooo," he mumbled.
"You'd think when it comes to computer programs versus lightning dragons, the latter would win," Morgana mused. "They definitely have the elemental advantage."
Futaba reached over to pet Morgana. "You forget, dear Mona, that I'm the strongest duelist in the whole world. No one can stand against my awesome power!" She let out a villainous laugh, then burst into giggles. "I'm basically the best."
8/18 – Wednesday
Afternoon
Sojiro's House
Ren knocked on the door to Futaba's room. "Hey Futaba, I'm here. Ready to go when you are. No rush though."
Silence. Then, a quiet noise. A mumble, or squeak, muffled by the door.
"Futaba?" He tried to swallow his worry, stifle his worst-case mentality. "Are you awake? Doing okay?" His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Futaba
pls come in needing help sorry
Ren pushed open the door in an instant. Futaba was in bed, breathing hard, phone in one hand and arms wrapped around her blue stuffed cat. "Hi," she mumbled. "Sorry. Sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for." He closed the door behind him, sitting on the foot of her bed and letting Morgana hop out of his bag. "You didn't do anything wrong."
The not-a-cat plopped down on Futaba's lap. "Is everything okay?"
"Hallucinated." A whisper, as if she couldn't bear any louder. "I was on my phone, and I got this feeling like someone was going to find out where I lived, and then I started hearing this banging all over and I thought someone was breaking in and..." She trailed off, burying her face in the stuffed cat. "I hate this," she said, through her tears. "I don't want to be broken again, I don't, I don't."
"You won't be." His chest felt tight, aching, a pain he knew was hers. "I promise, you won't be." Ren wanted to hold her, wanted to grab Futaba and hug her and never let go, but he wouldn't dare push past her comfort. Not for anything.
"Am I gonna have to go back to my Palace?" she whispered, voice low and fearful. "I don't want to, I want to be okay, and I want to be here, with you and everyone else."
"Futaba." Morgana stared at her, more serious than Ren had ever seen from him. "A change of heart can't be undone. It isn't perfect, it won't fix all your problems, but once you undo that distortion it can never settle there again. Your Palace is gone, and it's not coming back. You're never going to have to face yourself like that ever again, I promise."
A little noise, muffled into the stuffed animal. "Thank you," she said, raising her eyes towards Mona and Ren, then wiping them on her sleeve. "I really wanted to go shopping today. I'm sorry I messed that up."
"It's not your fault, Futaba," Ren said, as kind as he could manage. "We can make some time for that again another day, when you're feeling up for it. I promise, I'll make time for you."
She nodded, clearly still disappointed.
"Hm." Ren put on a smile for her. "How about, instead of doing a full shopping trip, we hit up the little grocery store in Yongen-Jaya? They've got some pretty good ice cream there, and you can show me what kind of snacks you like."
Futaba was quiet, considering that. "That sounds really good," she said, smiling back, a little weakly. "You're the best, Ren."
8/19 – Thursday
Afternoon
Cafe Leblanc
Futaba scrambled downstairs so fast Ren was surprised she didn't trip over her own feet, flapping her hands the whole way. "It's all set up! I'm gonna kick all your butts at Smash Bros."
"Curry first, you little gremlin." Ryuji put two plates down, one in front of Yusuke and the other in front of an empty seat nearly immediately filled by Futaba.
"Thank you for the food," Yusuke said.
"Thnk ou," Futaba added, with her mouth full of curry.
Ren chuckled. "We made extra, so feel free to ask for seconds. Plenty to go around." Spooning curry onto a plate, he caught an odd glance from Ryuji. "What's up, Sunshine?"
"Dude you sounded like my fucking mom there," Ryuji said, with a deadpan sourness, grabbing two more full plates from Ren.
"Your mom's the best," Ann cut in, as Ryuji served her. "Why are you complaining?"
"Still weird hearing it come from Renren!" He sat down at the counter, still pivoting precariously to address Ann. "But yeah, she's definitely the best."
Ren laughed, putting a lid on the pot and then taking the last two plates over the counter. "I'll have to take both of your words for it."
"You haven't met her yet?" Makoto asked.
Ren shook his head. "I'm dating her son. Feels like kind of a big deal."
"I told you, it'll be fine, she'll love you." Ryuji turned back around, picking up his spoon. "Besides, me meeting Sojiro wasn't a big deal."
"You and I weren't in the habit of making out when you met him," Ren quipped back, with a little smirk. Then, he glanced towards Futaba. "How's the curry? If it's bad, it's Ryuji's fault."
"Dude." His boyfriend glared at him.
Rather than answer, her mouth still full of food, Futaba gave an ecstatic thumbs up.
8/20 – Friday
Afternoon
Odaiba
The boardwalk had been Futaba's final request, a chance to spend time around more people than just the Thieves. The six teens found themselves within the arcade pretty quickly, excitedly bouncing from game to game until settling on a little claw machine tucked in the corner. Ren glanced towards Ann. "Feel like working your carnival magic on this one?"
Ann snorted. "Nope, this is all you."
"You can do it!" Futaba shouted, either to be heard over the slight bustle, or just for the sake of her own excitement. The girl nudged Yusuke next to her. "Come on, say something encouraging too."
"I believe these sorts of games are typically rigged," he said, with a sly little smile, "but I'm sure you'll do fine."
"Ughhhhh." Futaba rolled her eyes. "Way to kill the buzz there, Inari."
Before Yusuke had a chance to protest the nickname, Ren flicked a quarter into the claw machine. "Okay," he mumbled, "I'm a Phantom Thief. I dodged some chalk one time. How hard could this be?"
Makoto massaged the bridge of her nose. "You spent two thousand yen on a claw machine?" They were outside the arcade now, on the boardwalk proper. It wasn't much less busy here, but it was quieter without the walls for sound to ricochet off.
"I wanted to do something nice for Futaba," Ren said, trying not to wilt under the young woman's cold judgement.
Makoto glanced at Futaba, who was grinning almost as wide as the stuffed snowman in her arms. "I suppose that's fine," she said, though still let out a little disappointed sigh.
"Hey, does that..." Ryuji trailed off, staring right at the snowman. "Didn't Ren use a Persona that looked kinda like that at one point? Funny lil dude, went 'hee-ho' all the time."
"Jack Frost?" Now that he mentioned it, the stuffed monster did share more than a passing resemblance. "Holy shit, you're not even wrong."
"Do you think it's a coincidence?" Ann asked.
"Shadows and Personas take the form of entities that exist within the collective subconscious," Morgana said, his voice slightly muffed inside Ren's bag. "It makes sense that a figure like that might appear really similar in the real world."
Futaba raised the snowman to eye level, staring at it as if trying to piece some truth from its vacant expression. "Hee-ho..." Then she nodded, firmly, hugging the snowman again. "Her name's Jackie," she announced. "And I'm getting hungry now. Food time."
Futaba dangled her feet off the side of the boardwalk, holding Jackie tight and kicking her legs, the gentle ocean air blowing her long hair out behind her. The sky was covered in vibrant shades of orange and yellow, slowly darkening as the sun fell farther down each moment.
No one said a word. Yusuke, his fingers forming a portrait frame, squinting at the scene. Makoto, eyes closed, just letting the sound and smell wash over her. Ann, leaning on the nearby railing, watching fish swim by far below. Morgana, paws up on Ren's shoulder, so he wouldn't miss a thing. And Ryuji, next to Ren, holding his hand and just watching the sun set.
"After my mom died," Futaba said, quiet but still clear, "I wanted an answer. I read everything she'd ever published, and anything else cognitive pscience related I could get my hands on. I just wanted..." She trailed off. "I wanted a reason to know for sure it wasn't me. I knew I saw things sometimes, I knew my mind could trick me, so I wanted to be sure. I wanted to know I wasn't the one who killed her."
"Futaba," Ann said, quiet, and Ren could hear the heartbreak in her voice.
"I still couldn't find her research," the girl continued. "Mom was working for a private lab, so they were the ones who owned her notes, and I never even knew what lab it was that she worked for. And none of them would ever let a middle schooler look at classified documents like that." She glanced up, as if trying to stare a hole in the clouds. "So I broke in. Learned how to hack, found some friends who could help me."
"Is that...hacking stuff how you were able to text me?" Ren asked.
Futaba looked distinctly sheepish. "I stole your number from Sojiro. Uh, but the 'unknown number' thing was me, I was running a script on my phone." She was quiet, a moment. "I don't know for sure, cause I still haven't found her research, but I remember reading something in her notes when she was working around me. About how the death of a cognitive self would cause a major collapse of basic human desire, even the desire to continue living."
"A mental shutdown," Makoto said, her voice hushed. "Morgana said those are linked to Palaces, to people's Shadows dying."
Futaba nodded. "Yeah. When I overheard that, I...I thought of her. Of what happened."
"Futaba," Yusuke said, "do you mean to say–"
"I think my mom was killed." Her voice was unsteady, but she held firm. "I think someone made her have a mental shutdown. The whole week before her death, it was like she wasn't herself. Every time I tried to talk to her, she just looked right through me. And she didn't throw herself into traffic, it was more like she just collapsed." Futaba rubbed her eyes on her sleeve. "I want to know why she died, and who's causing the mental shutdowns. If I follow you guys, and learn more about the Metaverse, then maybe I can avenge her somehow. Change the heart of whoever killed her." She stared down at the water below the boardwalk. "I know it's a selfish reason, and it's really personal. So I don't blame you guys if you change your mind about me joining now that I've told you."
Ren wasn't sure how to answer that, and judging by the silence, neither was anyone else.
"I'm here for personal reasons too," Morgana said. He adjusted himself on Ren's shoulder. "I want to remember my past, and find a way to turn back into a human. That's why I joined in the first place, and that's what I'm fighting for still." He hesitated. "I mean, I'm not going to stop being a Phantom Thief when I'm human. But I don't think it's bad to do good things for your own reason."
"What Mona said," Ryuji added. "We're kickass superheroes or whatever, sure, but I don't think any of us joined the team for nothing. We all had someone's heart we wanted to change, to get that justice we never got. Face it Futaba, you're one of us. Nothin' anyone can do to take that away."
She was quiet for a time. Maybe just letting that sink in. And the sun dipped below the horizon.
