CONTENT WARNING: The section "8/27 – Friday, Evening, Cafe Leblanc" contains purposeful misgendering, mentions of abuse, and a generally high level of emotional intensity. Please take breaks or skip sections as necessary. Stay safe.
8/26 – Thursday
Afternoon
Velvet Room, Lockdown
The odd rules of this place might have prevented death, but it seemed to have no effect on exhaustion, or pain. "One more time," Ren said, struggling back to his feet. His knees felt like buckling, and the green healing glow from Justine barely put a dent in the feeling.
"You've yet to push us past our first limit," Justine said. She flipped through the pages of her clipboard compendium. "I doubt you have the strength required to last much longer."
"She's saying you're weak," Caroline added with a smirk. Despite her tone, she looked utterly exuberant. "So give up already and come back when you're stronger."
Ren rolled his sore arm, and tightened his grip on his knife. "One more," he repeated.
An echo in the back of his mind. "Unless you plan on burning out your own heart, you have only enough strength in you for two calls of my name. I suggest you use them wisely."
"Don't tell me you're holding out on me, Lupin." Ren forced a smirk. It wouldn't do for a Joker to die on his knees. "Just pull your weight, and I'll pull mine."
A pause, then something like laughter. "Good luck, boy."
Three hands flew to three masks.
"Ahrabakhi!"
"Slime!"
"Bugs."
Ahrabakhi's innate resistance kept him safe, but the explosion still nearly knocked him off his feet. The moment that pressure lifted, he pushed off, bracing through a triplicate of grazing impacts. Ren grit his teeth. Time to play dirty. "Pisca, level the field!" In an instant, the stale air seemed to sharpen with the taste of something foul.
"Caroline, now." Justine hopped back, almost putting her sister between herself and Ren.
"Not a chance, Inmate!" Caroline snarled. She whipped her baton toward him. "Agidyne!"
Ren's eyes widened. The flame licked at his feet, and the heat pooled. She was moving the fight along quicker than before, retaliating to his intent. And he had only a second to protect himself, before the bonfire drowned him completely. "Arsene!" The pillar drowned out his vision, the heat unbearable, but not fatal. Arsene's flame burned cold, and he was strong enough to resist this.
"Kodama." Justine's voice, and then the fire whirled around him, pulsing with furious air, engorged into a blazing sun in all directions.
"Enough!" A claw sweeping through the flame, and Ren's ears popped. In an instant, the air was clear again. He choked on the absence of smoke, gasping as his mask returned to his face.
One more call.
"Kushinda," he coughed, and his nerves sharpened again. A pulse of emerald across his gaze, and then he could see unclouded by pain. Just in time to watch Justine's eyepatch shatter once more.
"Eigaon." Black and red slipped through the air past his head, and then the screeching fury descended from all directions.
"White Rider!" The name drowned out by the tempest, but it was enough. He could face it. A heartstring pulled taught, and an arrow nocked. At the center of a deafening storm. Caroline was still standing between Ren and Justine, but the shot was clean. So Ren took it. "Fire!"
The pale bowman let fly. Caroline threw her arms up, but it wasn't quite enough. The impact hit her full force, sending her stumbling, off balance.
The Thief in Ren's heart leapt into his mouth. "Arsene, go!" And the winged demon swept past him, a blade slipping out of its sheath.
"Kougaon!" Caroline's desperate cry, and a sword of light descended from the heavens. But she was an instant too slow.
Ren felt the sword strike true. Barely a hint of resistance, like slicing through butter. It was...careful. Precise. Strong, but shallow. In that moment he knew, he wasn't the only one holding back. Arsene was too.
The light aimed for Ren's heart dissipated. Like sand in the breeze. And Caroline stared at him. Wobbling, like a domino seconds from falling. Halfway to victory.
"Pixie," Justine called.
Blue light, pulsing up and around the injured girl, wondrous brilliance like an angel's embrace. It swept up, swirled, and then fell away; Caroline was smirking. All harm undone "Nice try inmate," she said, and there was an honesty in it, "but you're still not good enough." She raised the baton above her head.
Ren could have struggled. No Arsene, barely an ounce of stamina, but he had strength left to pull from. He felt it there, bubbling under the surface. But they deserved him at his best, didn't they? With shaking hands, he slid his knife back into its sheath.
"You lose, Inmate." And the baton fell.
8/27 – Friday
Evening
Cafe Leblanc
"Plate," Ren said, and held the clean dish over his shoulder. Futaba snatched it from his grasp before it had a chance to drip, and set about drying it.
"You two make a good team," Sojiro noted from his stool on the counter.
"Yeah we do!" Futaba chirped. She craned up to slip a plate onto a high shelf, and then paused, waiting for the next dish.
Ren was quick to provide. "Cup." As soon as it left his fingers, he glanced towards Sojiro, blindly reaching into the suds to feel around for whatever he had to scrub next. The cafe owner had a wide smile, like he was watching something simple and yet so wonderful. In a way, Ren kind of understood that feeling.
"We're basically in sync," Futaba continued. "I bet by the end of Summer we'll be finishing each other's..." She trailed off, an obvious prompt.
"Sentences?" Ren offered, and passed another plate to her.
"See! It's already happening! We're like hivemind now, pod people." Futaba snickered, a mischievous lilt to the sound. "Look out Sojiro, we're coming for your coffee beans." Her voice wavered in melodramatic fashion.
Sojiro burst out laughing. "Good thing I've got plenty. How do the pod people feel about curry?"
"Love it," Ren said, and he heard Futaba's voice echo the same sentiment. A chuckle bubbled out of him, in time to his sister's cascading giggles.
"Guess I'd better get started soon then. It's getting close to dinner time." Sojiro stood, stretching his arms about his head, gut poking out from beneath his shirt – though mostly hidden by his apron. "I'll close up shop. Ren, could you wash the pots next?"
He nodded, finishing off one last plate before reaching over to snag the pair of dirty pots next to the sink and dunking them into the water.
"I'll get the ingredients!" Futaba scooted past, opening the fridge.
Sojiro slipped around the counter, heading towards the entrance.
The bell above the door chimed.
Ren spared a glance; the entrant was some middle-aged man, with a blue baseball cap. Just another customer.
"Sorry sir," Sojiro said, "we're just..." The cafe owner froze.
"Sakura!" The man said, sweeping his arms out. "Been a while, hasn't it?"
"Youji." Sojiro's voice was cold. Colder than Ren had ever heard, and it sent a stiffness into his limbs. "You're not welcome here."
"Last time I checked, you didn't need an invite to walk into a cafe." The man chuckled. "Hell of a way to run a business, Sakura. Bet you don't get many customers that way."
The fridge door swung shut. Ren stifled a yelp as Futaba nearly slammed into him, grabbing the hem of his shirt. She was shuddering, eyes locked on the stranger. Like she knew him. Like she was terrified of him. Ren pulled his arms out of the sink and grabbed a nearby towel, careful not to dislodge his sister.
"We're closed." Sojiro crossed his arms, standing in the center of his cafe like a pillar of defiance. "I've the right to refuse service, and I don't owe you a damn thing."
Youji tutted his tongue. "Come on buddy," he said, "I'm just here as a concerned citizen." He smirked. "Futaba's still not going to school, right?"
"That's none of your business," Sojiro snapped. "And even if it were, Futaba's doing miles better here than she ever did with you."
With him. Wakaba's living relatives were unfit to raise Futaba. Unfit...Ren's jaw tightened. He reached back, one hand on her shoulder. It wasn't much, but an anchor was better than nothing. Albeit less than the girl deserved.
"That's rather harsh, Sakura," the man said, a smug pout in every syllable. Youji glanced towards Futaba, but his stare lingered on Ren. "Guess I heard right, you really did take in another kid. And a criminal too! You're barely getting by, raising them, and now you bring in some thug?" He chuckled, dark and cruel. "Doesn't seem like the best environment for Futaba's growth now, does it?"
Ren felt Sojiro's tension from across the room, but his own fury drowned it out. "Shut your mouth," Ren snapped. "You don't know shit."
Sojiro and Youji both seemed taken aback by the outburst, but the former regained his faculties quicker. "Your concern is noted," he said firmly, "and now I'd like you to leave."
"I don't think I will." Youji took a step forward, and a flinch radiated through the room. "See, I was happy to sit back when Futaba was doing fine, but now it's obvious they're regressing." He smiled. "If I so much as complain, do you think the court will take your side over mine? I'm their uncle, you're just some dipshit with a coffee shop."
A silence, for a time. "Futaba, Ren," Sojiro said, "go upstairs. You don't need to hear this."
Ren bit back a disagreement, and made his way around the counter, keeping Futaba close. She was breathing so shallow, anxious and silent. Gripping to Ren like she'd be swept away if she so much as relaxed for a moment.
"What, you ashamed?" Youji laughed. "You really don't want them to know you've been bribing me to stay away? And here I thought you wanted to relate to the little freaks." Fire snarling bright, but Ren stuffed it down. He couldn't lose control. He wouldn't let Sojiro and Futaba pay for his temper.
"Say another word and you're leaving Leblanc in a full body cast," Sojiro snarled.
Youji gasped, holding a hand to his chest. "Threatening violence against an innocent citizen? Looks like you're really not fit to be their guardian."
"Shut up!" It wasn't Sojiro's voice, or Ren's, that rang out. It was Futaba. Still holding tight to her brother, breathing so hard, but glaring at her uncle. "You were an awful uncle and an awful person, and this is my home! Sojiro takes care of me, he never stopped caring even when I was hard to take care of, he loves me and I love him and I'm not going anywhere!" She swallowed hard. "If-if you take Sojiro to court, I'll tell everyone about how you treated me." Futaba smiled, forced but confident. "Do you think family court will take your side over mine when they find out you abused me?"
Ren didn't have a chance to feel proud, his heart swelled but panic cut it off at the pass. "You little–" Youji surged forward, pushing past a shocked Sojiro, storming right at the siblings.
Ren flinched away, pulling Futaba back all the way behind him. His joints locked. He wanted to strike, wanted to sink his knuckles into that creep's face, but he couldn't move. Like gravity was pulling him down, curling in on himself. Fury and fear swirling into stasis. Braced there, between Futaba and this monster, too afraid to move, too afraid to do anything more than slowly wilt.
A hand on his shoulder, panic flared and Ren whipped up. Something hard against his skull, like colliding with a low ceiling. And Youji stumbled back, one fist still up for a long moment, before both hands flew to his nose. "You-" he groaned. "Your fucking felon freak assaulted me."
"You were going to hit him!" Futaba protested, shrill and furious.
Youji burst into awful, pained laughter. "You're done, Sakura! That criminal bitch headbutted me, and I'm going to sue your ass for every penny."
Sojiro grabbed Youji by the shoulder, furious and cold. "Get the fuck out of my cafe right now, or I will make you leave."
This time, Youji flinched. "This isn't over," he snarled, and shrugged off Sojiro's hand, storming towards the exit. "This isn't over!" The bell sang out an anxious melody, and the door slammed shut behind him.
No one said a word. Ren could barely breathe.
"Ren," and Sojiro's voice was peaceful again. A little unstable waver, but kind. The sound sent calm like a wave through him. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you at all?"
Ren shook his head. "My head's a little sore," he offered, "but that's my fault, not his." A shuddering breath, and an apology escaped him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things worse-"
"You didn't." Firm, but not angry. "You didn't do anything wrong." And Sojiro glanced past Ren towards Futaba. "Neither of you did."
"He's not gonna take me back, is he?" She buried her face in Ren's shirt, holding onto him so tight. "I don't wanna go. I don't ever wanna go back there."
"He won't," Sojiro assured. "I promise, it'll never come to that. I'll make sure of it."
Make sure... "You were paying him, right?" Ren asked. "To keep him from Futaba."
The cafe owner didn't answer for a time. He stroked his goatee, as if in thought. "It was the only way I could get him to let go of custody," he said. "I thought he'd leave her alone, but he just kept coming back, asking for more money." He sighed, and there was something so very tired in it. "Whatever it takes, I'm not letting him drag Futaba away. I'm not letting him drag either of you away." A smile, just a little one. "So long as I'm your guardian, it's my job to protect you. From the world, and from people like that."
"This is my home," Futaba mumbled. She peeled a hand off Ren's shirt, wiping at her eyes. "I'm happy here, and I wanna stay. With you and Ren and Mona and everyone. This is my home." She shuddered out a breath, let go of Ren, and stumbled towards Sojiro, grabbing the man in a tight hug. "It's my home."
Sojiro looked lost, like he wasn't sure what to say. He carefully reached down and patted Futaba's head. "It'll be okay," he said. "You're not going anywhere, and neither am I."
"His name's Youji Isshiki," Futaba said. The two of them were on the attic couch, Sojiro cooking dinner downstairs. "He's my mom's brother, and my guardian before Sojiro." She curled up, hugging her knees in towards her chest. "He treated me really bad."
Ren rubbed her shoulder, just a careful little touch. Close, but not too close.
"You were so brave to stand up to him," Morgana added, sitting on the table in front of them. "I bet Boss is proud of you for that too."
A skewed smile found its way onto Futaba's face. "Mona's really sweet," she mumbled. Then she took a deep breath. "I want to change my uncle's heart. I don't...want the rest of the Thieves to know. They're all really kind, but I still feel..." She sighed, like the words were escaping her.
"Ashamed?" Ren asked.
"You're finishing my sentences again," she teased, and gave a weak little giggle.
He smiled, a bit. "There's nothing for you to be ashamed of. I know it's hard to talk about this stuff, I still can't really talk much about my parents to anyone but you and Morgana, and maybe Ryuji." Ren spun a lock of hair between two fingers. "We can change his heart together. You, me and Morgana. I'll tell the other Thieves I have some personal business to take care of, I promise they won't meddle."
Futaba nodded, slowly. "I wanna tell them," she said, "eventually. I don't know if I can right now." She screwed up her face as if tasting something vile. "Am I bad for not telling them?"
"Of course not," Ren assured. "You can trust people with some things and not others. There's nothing wrong with that."
"Keeping secrets feels bad..." she mumbled, curling up further. "They helped save my life and I'm too scared to tell them about any of this stuff. It's dumb."
"Ryuji still doesn't know I almost died in prison." The words seemed to catch Futaba off-guard, and she turned her head to look at Ren. "I've told you, and Morgana, and Ann," he continued, "but not Ryuji. I'm dating the guy, and I still haven't told him." Ren let out a long breath. "Sometimes I feel like I'm a bad person or a bad boyfriend for not telling him. But every time I get thinking like that, I have to remind myself that Ryuji would never see it that way." He couldn't help but smile. "We've been friends since April, and dating since July, and we're still figuring out how to open up to each other. You shouldn't beat yourself up about struggling to be candid. I'm pretty sure all the Phantom Thieves feel that way about something."
"Okay," she said. Quiet, like she was thinking. "I'll try. I'll try." Futaba closed her eyes. "Can I stay here tonight? I dunno if I'll be able to sleep much, but I feel safer with you and Mona around."
"You should take the bed!" Morgana proclaimed. "Ren can take the couch, and then I'll lay on you and keep you warm."
"Uh, I'm pretty sure you don't get to offer that," Ren teased, "it's not your bed."
The not-a-cat huffed, raising his nose. "A real gentleman would never let a lady sleep somewhere uncomfortable."
Futaba giggled, and reached over to ruffle Morgana's fur. "Real gentleman kitty," she mumbled.
Morgana leaned into her touch, and maybe it was just a kindness for her emotional state, but he didn't correct her.
8/28 – Saturday
Afternoon
Mementos
"Healing is on the way!" Oracle's voice buzzed in his ear, and a second later, relief poured into Ren's bones.
"Thanks Oracle!" Mona said, shaking himself off.
"Appreciated," Ren echoed, eyeing Youji's Shadow: a cyclopean elephant-man with a large saber and a nasty temperament. "Found a weaknesses we can exploit?"
"I'm not seeing any." The rapid clicking of keys. "If you hit him with an ailment, that should give you the opening you need."
"Got it." Ren nodded to Mona, placing a hand on his own mask. "Set him up, I'll knock him down."
"Aye-aye Joker." Mona raised his cerulean blade above his head. "Zorro!" Golden light flickered around the Shadow, like a dozen ribbons spiraling in every direction. Ren wasn't even the target, but the display still dragged at his attention, and he had to force himself to stay focused.
"What's the big idea!?" Youji swung at the ribbons, but his movements slowed. "What sorta...weirdness..." Trailing off, some perplexed tone to his voice.
"Arahabakhi!" Ren's mask shattered, and the defiant deity spun into existence. Eyes glowing purple, and gaze locked on the distracted Shadow. "Ravage him."
Spheres of incandescent purple, yellow, and blue, spiraling out and then coalescing, bursting like fireworks. Youji's Shadow cried out, and collapsed.
"He's down!" Oracle exclaimed. "Let's close the curtain on this creep!"
Ren found himself smiling, pulling the dragger from his sheath. "You heard the girl." And he sprinted towards the Shadow, Mona a step behind. "Show's over."
It was a quiet drive back. None of the other Thieves to fill the space, and Oracle didn't seem like she wanted to talk. She stared out the passenger's side window, mask on her forehead, maybe thoughtful, maybe just tired. Ren wasn't sure what to do, how to help, so he defaulted to matching her silence, just driving on into the dark.
"I thought it'd feel better," Oracle said. "I thought...after we changed his heart, that I wouldn't be as hurt by what happened." She sighed, flicking her fingernails against each other. "It still hurts, a lot."
Ren nodded. "Standing up to someone who hurt you doesn't always feel as satisfying as it should."
"Yeah," Oracle mumbled. She was quiet another long moment. "He apologized. I think that was the worst part."
"Do you know why?" Ren asked, choosing his words carefully.
"I guess it just felt like, when he said sorry, and that he knew what he was doing was wrong, that somehow it made what happened to me...like, fake?" She let out a frustrated breath. "I know it still hurts, so something was wrong, but he changed so quick it's like...maybe it didn't happen at all. Or it didn't happen like I remembered it."
"It did," Ren said, immediately. "You're not making up being abused, I promise."
"How do you know?" It was an honest question.
"I trust you." Simple, implicit. "I don't need to know the details, or proof, to believe you when you feel strongly. 'Nothing' doesn't leave scars."
"Mmm." Oracle leaned back into her seat, almost limp. "But it's not fair to still be mad if someone's trying to fix what happened, right?"
Ren's left wrist itched. "Some things can't ever be taken back, Taba." He took a breath, a moment for articulation. "When we helped you change your heart, it was to stop a distortion that was actively causing harm, and could have gotten worse if left alone. Sometimes when we change hearts, it's for stuff like that. Get some guy to stop stalking his ex, or a girl to let go of her obsession. But for people like your uncle, we change their hearts so they can start to atone for their sins, and so they won't hurt anyone else."
"I know," Oracle said. "He's not gonna hurt me again, I know that."
"That doesn't mean he never hurt you though," Ren added. "What happened to you was abuse, you said it yourself. We're not helping him, by changing his heart. He's not getting a free pass, and he's not absolved for the way he treated you." He stared ahead until his eyes glazed over past the reach of Mona's headlights. "It isn't about him, I guess. It's about you. You're a Phantom Thief, you've got the heart of a rebel. You have the power to control your own story." Ren glanced towards her, sparing a moment for a smile. "And you've got me, and Mona, and everyone ready to help you tell it."
She nodded, and wiggled her fingers at the air. "What if I never move on though?" she asked. "If I never heal, or let it go? If I'm just bitter and angry and hurt forever; that sounds like a really awful story. I wouldn't want to drag you all along for that, you deserve better."
Ren shrugged. "If that's the story you tell, then I'll accept it. Deserving or not, it'll still be you." He rolled that around inside his skull. "I guess people with scars can't really tell many stories without them."
"Guess not." Oracle let out a long breath, and closed her eyes. "I feel...a little better now. Thanks Ren."
"Always." And they were quiet again, but Ren didn't find himself minding as much this time.
8/29 – Sunday
Afternoon
Cafe Leblanc
Ren had been keeping one eye on the door all day, and he burned his hand on the coffee pot. "Fuck," he muttered, shaking off the wound.
"Got something on your mind?" Sojiro asked.
"Not really." Yes, he absolutely did. "Just distracted."
"Hrm." He could feel the cafe owner's gaze on him as he crossed to the sink and dunked his hand under the cold water. "Youji isn't coming back."
Ren couldn't stifle the flinch fast enough. "That obvious?"
"You've been living under my roof for almost five months now." Sojiro chuckled. "Give me a little credit here, I'm not some half-blind old geezer." He looked like he wanted to say something further, but hesitated. "It affected you a lot, what happened. Didn't it?"
Ren shrugged, but Sojiro's glare made him reconsider immediately. "Yeah. It did. I'm okay now, but I guess I'm still worried..." It was hard to say it, he had to choke out the words. "Half-expecting my parole officer to walk in here with a police escort any second now." Even with Futaba upstairs, he felt reticent to admit as much. Something about the fear felt selfish in the face of her struggle.
A tension settled over the cafe-owner. "I see," he mumbled. Then he straightened up, staring at Ren. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you." As firm as ever, but no less compassionate. "You protected Futaba. You didn't do a damn thing wrong, and you're not going back to prison so long as I'm still your guardian. I promise that."
It felt almost empty, like an impossible oath, but Ren knew he meant it. "Thanks," he said.
The bell above the door rang. A man and a woman in business suits, standing there, almost expectantly. "Mister Sakura?" the woman said.
Sojiro turned around, staring at the pair. "That'll be me. How can I help you?"
The woman smiled, polite and cold. "We're with Social Services." She reached into her pocket for a small business card, handing it across the counter.
"We received a report of an assault by a young man currently on probation," the man added, "one Ren Amamiya?" He gave a nod to Ren. "I assume that's you?"
Ren's chest felt tight. He nodded, silent.
"Additionally," the woman said, "that report claimed that the level of care being provided to your adopted daughter, Futaba Sakura, is low – bordering on negligent."
"To be clear, we're not taking any drastic action today." The man loosened his tie. "The report was anonymous, so we'd just like to sit down with you for a half hour or so, and confirm some details."
"Fine by me." Careful, polite. Like Sojiro was putting on a show. He gestured to one of the nearby booths. "I'll close the cafe for now, and we can talk right here. If that works well enough for you both."
"Sure," the man said, and slipped into the booth, his partner sitting down next to him. Ren waited for Sojiro to lock the door and seat himself, then took the other spot across from the social workers.
"To start," Sojiro said, "I was there when that so-called 'assault' took place. The other in question is Youji Isshiki, he's Futaba's uncle and her former guardian. I'm almost certain he'd be the one to make that complaint."
"That's up to us to figure out," the woman corrected.
The man pulled out a small journal and pencil before glancing at Ren. "Mister Amamiya, could you please recall the incident in as much detail as you can?"
"Sure." He tried to stay calm, to remember, to not fuck this up. "Youji – uh, Futaba's uncle – was talking about taking Sojiro to court to get custody of Futaba back. Futaba called him abusive, and he ran at her, and I got in the way. He grabbed my shoulder, I flinched, headbutted him on accident."
The man nodded through the whole story, writing in his notebook.
"I expect you'll need to hear from me on Futaba's well-being next," Sojiro said. He almost sounded hopeful they'd decline.
"We'll be looking into Mister Isshiki after our time here today," the woman said, too formal to be an assurance, "but yes." She straightened up. "Mister Sakura, do you honestly feel that your home and this cafe are the best for Futaba?"
"I know they're not perfect, but she's done far better with me than–" he began.
"Perhaps you misunderstand me." The woman stared at him with a statuesque stoicism. "By your own reports, while Futaba did indeed flourish under your care for a time, she additionally regressed to the point of practical hermitage. Allow me to revise my question: what actions have you taken to ensure that sort of regression never happens again?"
Sojiro didn't say a word. He just stared across the booth, almost stunned. "I love Futaba like my own daughter," he said, slowly, "and I would do anything to keep her safe, and happy. But at times, I just don't know what I'm doing wrong, or if I'm even reaching her. I admit that my care might...not be adequate–"
"Don't say that!" Futaba's voice rang out through the cafe. Ren whirled in his booth to see the girl standing near the top of the stairs to the attic, glaring daggers at Sojiro. She stormed down and across the cafe, sending a long silent look at her guardian before turning towards the social workers. "Sojiro doesn't always know what he's doing, but he tries! He's tried new things almost every day for me when I was distorted – regressed, whatever!" She wilted a little, but she didn't back down. "Last year, I lost my only friend. I never told him that, but that's why I locked myself in my room. I hated myself so much for that, but I tried so hard to stay good because Sojiro did his best every single day to make things easier and better for me. I know I'm really hard to take care of, I've got a lot of needs and my brain doesn't work right all the time, but he's always treated me like a person." Futaba straightened up, like she was digging in her heels. "I'm not afraid anymore. I'm really happy living with my dad!"
"Futaba," Sojiro's voice was almost a whisper, and Ren could hear the edge of a sob in it.
The woman social worker seemed somewhat taken aback, but her partner simply kept writing, before looking up at Ren. "Could you speak to the quality of Mister Sakura's guardianship?"
"I know what it's like to have shit parents," he said, plainly. "Sojiro's not anything like that. He's a good dad. Futaba likes living with him, and I do too."
The man nodded. "Thank you very much for your time," he said, warmly. "I can't say for certain that this case won't require any more of you, but you shouldn't expect any more surprise visits like this."
"You should relax," the woman said, staring at Ren. "Unless this Youji Isshiki decides to press charges, there's nothing further you need to be concerned about regarding this alleged assault."
"Thanks," Ren muttered.
And after what felt like the world's longest exhalation, the two social workers stepped out of Leblanc.
"Don't ever say you're not good enough to be my dad," Futaba said, strict, the moment the door closed. "You'd never let me that sort of stuff about myself, so don't say it about yourself either."
Sojiro's back was to the both of them, and he just sort of nodded. Then, he reached up, taking off his glasses, almost like he was going to clean them off, and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. "You're really something, kiddo," he muttered, and Ren didn't need to see his face to know he was smiling. "Never thought you'd be the one to pull my ass out of the fire like that."
"You have a great daughter," Ren added, grinning.
Sojiro laughed. "It's not just her, idiot." He turned, smiling with his tear-filled eyes. "I have a great son, too."
If you don't already know her, I would like to introduce my amazing and spectacular friend Jane, local bi catgirl, sapphic enthusiast and font of constant joy and inspiration for yours truly. She's helped brainstorm and beta read the last handful of chapters and I've asked her to help pull me out of writer's block more times than I can count (a chunk of the Mementos scene in this chapter are verbatim transcriptions of lines she sent me earlier), and she's worked with me to help plan out a bunch of Kasumi, Futaba and Akechi's arcs. She's been an irreplaceable help, and I genuinely think that Deja Vu wouldn't be the same without her.
So I'd like to make it official that Jane be, from this chapter onward, credited as official co-creator. I'll still be handling a vast majority of the raw writing and scheduling, but I want to give her a more permanent credit for all the time, energy and love she's put into Deja Vu. It means the world to me that I get to share this story with her, and I hope to do so until Deja Vu's final chapter.
