CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains a brief mention of suicide ideation, non-graphic mentions of attempted suicide and parental abuse. Please take breaks or skip sections as necessary. Stay safe.


█████
Evening
Cafe Leblanc, Attic

The empty pistol, its single bullet fired less than an hour ago, was on the table in front of the Trickster. And around the room were the other five Thieves; two of which, the guilty pair, were avoiding all eye contact while seated on his bed. He leaned back against the couch, and waited.

"Would you care to explain what exactly happened back there?" the young woman asked. Her eyes bored into him, crimson like fire, like blood, and he stared right back.

He'd done his job. The stage was set, and he'd stepped to his mark, and delivered his lines. The curtain was closing now, and his position was soon to be obsolete. Everything was as it should be. They could take it from here now, be everything he couldn't. He was a cipher stepping out of center stage.

But the one part he refused to play any further was the liar. The truth burned his tongue, dripped back down his throat. So he didn't say a word.

"Silence isn't a defense," the young woman continued. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself? Don't you owe us the fucking truth, for once?"

"Please, █████," the young man protested, his eternally steady voice nearly breaking, "give him a moment."

"He lied to us," she fired back. "He lied to you."

"I'm well aware." Stoic, and frigid as a snowstorm. The sharp eyes of an artist trying to pick the Trickster apart, find the truth to anchor him within the falsity. "But we are, if nothing else, his teammates. Let us not interrogate one of our own."

She let out a sharp breath through her nose, and sat down hard, still glaring at the Trickster.

He didn't meet her gaze. For a moment, he glanced towards his Sun, towards the young man bouncing his leg on the other side of the room. He looked pale. He looked sick. Hugging himself and staring at the ground. So the Trickster looked away.

"I'm not sure..." the other young woman began, then hesitated. "Last night, ███ reached out to me, and assured me that changing my father's heart would not harm him." Putting together the puzzle, bit by bit, as careful as she had ever been. "I assumed that was simply to calm my nerves, but...did you know this would happen?" A question not for the room, but for him.

"It was my fault!" his sister blurted out, and the Trickster flinched. "I had a weird reading on Necronomicon, while we were getting into the Monamobile, and I mentioned it to him and he–"

"You and I both entered through the back seat," the young man said, slowly, "but ███ entered through the front. He was nowhere near you."

She froze. Caught in a lie. Culpable by proxy. All eyes on her, the room's focus was now on the girl and she looked ready to bolt. Ready to run from her friends, from the people she should have trusted, who should have trusted her.

"That's enough," he said. He'd meant it strong, but it came out choked. It was good enough, their attention was back on him. "█████, don't. No more lies, not for my sake." He closed his eyes, let the exhaustion flood over him in waves. "No more."

"Will you tell us what's going on?" the young woman asked, her soft voice threaded with confusion and hurt; maybe she'd been trying to keep that down, but he could hear it as loud as the gunshot that still rang in his ears.

Without a word, he stood. Walked over to his bed, crouched down, and reached under. Fingers curled around a tan envelope, and he pulled it out, tossing it back onto the table. Then he pulled out another. And another. Over and over, the truth spilling out his fingers like so many grains of sand, like a breath he'd been holding since April. Six long months, he'd kept it. And now, he finally let it go.


9/7 – Tuesday
Afternoon
Cafe Leblanc, Attic

Ren woke up crying again. "Damnit," he muttered, shoving his face into his pillow. Blocking out the light, the sound of the world. Hiding his tears from them. The room was quiet enough, but Futaba had left the window open to keep him from overheating, and he could hear the bustle of Yongen-Jaya outside. The breeze was nice, but Ren would rather die than let a passerby hear him sniffling. So he drowned it out, covered it up. Waited until the shuddering stopped, until he could breathe without being on the verge of sobbing. Then he pulled the pillow away, and gulped far-too-warm air.

The water bottle on his bedside table was full again. He reached out with a hand still shaking, grabbed it, pulled it to him. Drank. Emptied half the bottle, and then put it back. Futaba, or Sojiro, would probably fill it up again. So much work, all for him. What had he done to deserve that?

Ren closed his eyes. He'd survive if they left him alone. Didn't they trust him with that? Did they think he'd drop dead if they so much as looked away for a second? Didn't they know what he'd lived through? This wouldn't kill him. It hurt, but it wouldn't kill him. So why did they try so hard for his sake?

Footsteps on the stairs pulled his eyes open. Morgana bounded into the attic, making a beeline for the bed and hopping up next to Ren just as Futaba entered. She was holding a lightly steaming plastic container of instant noodles by its corners.

"Morning," Morgana said, pushing his head into Ren's stomach.

"Hey," he croaked, giving the not-a-cat a few long pets.

Futaba placed the container down on his bedside table, shook off her hands with a couple of flaps, and then gestured to the noodles. "Food," she said, almost triumphantly. "Oh, wait." And slipped a fork out of her pocket, placing it next to the container. "There. Now, food."

Ren blinked. "You don't have to eat so close," he said. "I mean, there's a whole other table. And my desk."

She stared at him, brow furrowed. "I already ate. This one's for you." Futaba shifted, swinging her arms back and forth. "I mean, you don't have to eat it? But, uh, I dunno. I don't really know how to make that much, but these ones are my favorite. I've gotten really good at making them too! I know the right time to cook 'em for, and the right amount of spice. Normally I add some extra season salt too, but I figured you wouldn't like that, so..."

She'd made him food. His sister had cooked for him. Because she cared, right? Ren stared at the instant noodles. Reached out, pulled it closer, sat up a little. It was over-strong spices, lingering condensation and the too-hot-to-hold of a meal nuked in a microwave. It was perfect.

Morgana plopped down on his legs, and Futaba sat on the chair in front of his desk. Eating around other people wasn't the most comfortable, but Ren found himself hungry, and trusting. So he ate.

"Good?" Futaba asked, tilting her head.

"Very," Ren replied, offering a weak smile.


█████
Afternoon
Cafe Leblanc, Attic

"Let's get going already, we've got a route to infiltrate."

The Trickster stood, but the young woman seemed lost in thought, staying seated on his bed. As the others headed towards the staircase, he walked over and sat down next to her. "What's up?"

She glanced at him, smiled, and then returned to staring at the crushed can in her hands. "I'm not sure," she said, finally. The young woman reached up, running a hand across the freshly buzzed hair at the base of her neck. "I feel as though there is...something I'm missing. Something no one is saying, that everyone but me is thinking." She sighed. "Perhaps I'm just being irrational, but it feels as though you're all hiding something."

The young woman was six feet below four million yen, and three feet above more than a dozen parcels. The Trickster forced his breath steady, even as his panicked heart tried to escape through his throat. "I think everyone feels that way, at least at first. I mean, I know I still don't really feel like I belong as a Thief, and █████ said the same when he joined."

"That's not quite what I was talking about," she said, with a small sigh, "but, yes." The young woman stood, brushing herself off. "I do want to trust you, ███. It's...not always easy, and I'm not quite sure why. But you've done nothing to deserve mistrust, so I will try to trust you."

He wanted to laugh. To cry. To scream and sob and mock her innocence. But he smiled instead. "Thanks. For what it's worth, █████, I trust you completely. And I want to be worthy of your trust, one day."


9/8 – Wednesday
Morning
Cafe Leblanc, Attic

Ren had woken up way too early, and was halfway asleep again when his phone buzzed. He tried to ignore it, but the buzzing continued, frantic and rapid. The Thieves were spamming the group chat, or someone was spamming him, and either one probably meant something important. If the sound wasn't enough to keep him awake, that knowledge definitely was.

He opened his eyes to see that Futaba was curled up on the couch under a thick blanket, passed out completely. She'd spent the whole previous day either on her computer or watching over Ren, so she definitely deserved some rest. He could spy Jackie's telltale grin poking out from between her arms, and that brought a little smile to his face.

After a few seconds of feeling around blind first for his phone, then his glasses, he pulled on the latter and scanned his notifications. Everyone was freaking out in the group chat; Ryuji had linked a screenshot to an announcement on the Phan-Site, and the rest of the Thieves had lost their collective minds. Ren enlarged the screenshot, zooming in until his tired eyes could read the text. He skimmed it, then hesitated, then read it through word by word. Twice.

Then, he called Mishima.

She picked up after the second ring. "Hey Ren!" she said, sounding surprised and excited and exhausted all at once. "I heard you got the flu or something, are you doing okay?"

"Surviving." He leaned back, shifting against the pillow until he felt comfortable. "Uh. Hawaii's good?"

"I think so?" Mishima chuckled. "I mean, it's really pretty. I dunno if you'd like it here though. Well, on second thought, your friends are all here, so I guess you'd like it." She sucked in a sharp breath. "Shit, sorry! I didn't mean to–"

"Mishima," he said, laughing, "it's okay. I'm not upset." He let the silence stretch while he searched for the right words. "I saw your post on the Phan-Site."

Another pause. "Yeah?" she said, so quiet Ren could barely hear it.

"I'm proud of you." He closed his eyes, breathing steady into the quiet room. "Coming out to anyone is hard. Coming out to a whole forum like you did...I mean, I hope you didn't feel pressured to do that or anything. I promise you're not obligated–"

"Oh, uh, I mean, I know that." Words stumbling over each other. Mishima took a long breath. "It wasn't a pressure thing, I guess. I just don't mind being myself there. Not like anyone there knows it's me, after all. I'm just 'Admin' there, changing pronouns is...easy." Ren could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"It wasn't easy, was it?" he asked, as gentle as he could.

"Fuck, no, of course it wasn't!" Mishima burst out laughing, high and nervous and giddy. "Ugh. I mean, I guess...I thought this would have been easier?"

"It's not easy for anyone." Ren found himself smiling, even as something ached in his chest. "Definitely hasn't been for me."

"Yeah," Mishima said. "I think I assumed that coming out was, like, a one-and-done? Like I just find the right words and then everyone will see me as who I am, and that's it. I say it once and it's true forever and everyone knows." A rustling on the other end. "It's a choice though, isn't it? Like, a choice I have to keep making."

"That sounds about right." Ren let out all the breath in his lungs, slow and steady. "I will say this much: even if not everyone knows, that doesn't make it not true. You're a girl, so long as you want to be one. And I can promise I won't see you as anything different. None of the Thieves will."

"Thanks, Ren." A smile in her voice. "I'll keep trying to make that choice."

"If you do," he said, "do it for you. Not for anyone else."

She hummed something, quiet and thoughtful. "Okay," she said. "I promise, I'll try."


Ren was alone again. Futaba and Morgana had both headed downstairs to give him some privacy, which he appreciated, but their absence felt somehow poignant. It's not as if he wouldn't trust either of them with anything that he'd feel safe enough telling Maruki.

"What would you like to talk about today?" Maruki asked, his voice sounding somewhat small, almost harmless, through Ren's phone.

"I'm remembering," he said.

Quiet on the other end. "Remembering?" Maruki prompted, as if he hadn't missed a beat, as if that hesitation hadn't occurred.

"It's just kind of hitting me in waves." Ren was sitting up, but he felt gravity already dragging him back down. Fatigue like lead at the bottom of his lungs. "I'll remember something I'd made myself forget, and it'll hurt, and then I'll lie down and feel hurt, and by the time I've numbed out I'll remember something else and start hurting again."

"I see." The sound of liquid through a straw. "Would you say these memories are tied to a trauma?"

"Tied is a good word for it, yeah. Like, they aren't all memories of the bad stuff, but they're from..." Describing this in vague, metaphorical terms wasn't exactly an easy thing. "They're all right next to a trauma. Like orbiting the wound. It hurts when I remember good stuff too, cause I guess I'm just miserable about losing that part of my life."

"Could you speak more on that?" Maruki asked.

Ren shrugged, not that the gesture would travel. "I can try."

"That's all I'm asking," the therapist assured.

What else even was there to say? "I think it's almost like I miss being happy the way I was, even when I was miserable and traumatized and kinda suicidal." The word slipped out before he could catch it, and he just kept talking, trying to cover it up, drown it out. "Which doesn't make sense, right? Missing some small little thing in the middle of a whole bunch of bullshit, wanting to be in pain again just to chase a comfort I don't have anymore, that I don't even need anymore. Like I had a place in the world back then and people who loved me, and I was clinging to that because I didn't have anything else, and I'm way better right now but I still want to be the kind of person I was back then. It's stupid."

"Not at all, Ren. It makes perfect sense to me." As simple as anything. Maruki's voice was steady, and kind. "Have you ever heard of loss aversion?"

"I dunno," Ren said. "I can probably guess what it is, by the name."

Maruki chuckled. "It's a very common phenomenon, one that nearly everyone faces. The general rule of thumb is that a loss hurts twice as much as a comparable gain."

"Comparable..." Ren muttered, brow furrowed.

"Let's put it in simpler terms," the therapist said. "Imagine for a moment that someone puts two plates of cookies down on the table in front of you, the left one with a lot of cookies of one kind and the right with very few of another. Every once in a while, one of the cookies on the left plate will vanish, and a new cookie will be added to the right plate. If you only consider your own needs, and assuming you like both variants equally, do you feel that you would be more likely to eat from the left, or the right?"

"I guess the left?" Ren twisted a strand of hair between two fingers. "I wouldn't want to miss out. If the right plate is getting bigger, I wouldn't feel pressure to eat from it. I'd rather take a few of the ones that are going away."

"But notice," Maruki said, a little excitement bleeding into his voice, "that even though the total amount is staying the same, you felt concerned about missing out. You like both variants equally, so it shouldn't be an issue, but you still focused on what you were losing instead of what you were gaining. Very few people would feel differently, humans instinctively prefer avoiding loss over optimizing gain."

"Huh." Ren leaned back against his pillow, thinking about that, rolling it around in his head. "So you're saying it's, like, normal."

Maruki hummed an affirmation. "Very. I don't know everything you've lost or gained, compared to that time in your life. But from how you've described, it seems as though you've lost quite a lot, and gained just as much – if not more. It's natural to feel grief stronger than joy or gratitude. But at the same time, there's a lot to be said about giving credit where it is due. I would encourage you to focus on what you do have, rather than what you once had. Because you have a community of friends who you trust, a partner you love, a family you feel safe with, and you've taken some absolutely amazing steps towards healing from your trauma." He couldn't see the therapist's face, but Ren could almost hear him beaming. "There's a lot of good in your life right now."

He let out a long, tired breath. "I'll try," he said. "Focusing on that, I mean. I'm grateful, I really am. I guess I'm just not ready to let go, yet."

"Give yourself time," Maruki said. "And don't be too hard on yourself for that. You'll be ready, eventually, I know you will."


█████
Afternoon
Shujin Academy, Rooftop

The young woman currently not in the cat mask sat, her chin in one hand and elbow on the table, staring off the edge of the roof. Towards the top of the other building, towards where her best friend had nearly died.

The young man hesitated at the door. "I'll miss you, ████," he said, and his voice sounded almost choked. "I guess, like, you gotta do you, right? I mean, ugh, fuck I'm bad at this." He let out a long, frustrated breath. "You've got a place with us, you know? Even if you're going, you're still a Thief. You and me and ████ and █████, we fought him together. We changed his heart, just the four of us. So, even if you go..." He smacked his fist against his chest, over his heart. "You're right here. So, uh, I'll miss you."

She didn't say a word, just nodded.

The young man stood strong, his hand wavering. Then he swore under his breath, flung open the door, and practically ran inside. Like he couldn't bear another moment of silence.

The not-a-cat glanced over his shoulder. "It was an honor to fight by your side, Lady ███." And he too slipped through the slowly-closing door.

It was just the Trickster and the young woman, then. Just the two of them.

"Don't," she said, before he could so much as open his mouth. "If you say one more lie to me, I'll kill you. I swear, I'll burn your heart out." Her voice broke, and she took an unsteady breath.

He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't know how to make it right. The Trickster turned towards the door, grabbed the handle. Stalled. "I'm sorry," he said. He couldn't look at her. He wouldn't watch someone he cared about cry. "I'm really, really sorry."


9/9 – Thursday
Late Afternoon
Sojiro's House

Sojiro's hand was steady on his shoulder, and Morgana guided the way. Down the stairs, around the corner, a short walk through the neighborhood, and then up another set of stairs to Futaba's room.

Ren could lean on him, if he wanted to. He didn't want to.

"You're good from here?" Sojiro asked, squeezing Ren's shoulder.

Ren nodded.

"I'll be right downstairs," he added. "You're welcome to stay the night, but I'm happy to help you back to Leblanc. And please just text me if you need anything – I've gotten pretty good at midnight snack runs for Futaba."

"Thank you," Ren said. He hadn't realized how weak his voice sounded, how his legs shuddered on the verge of buckling. But he was here. No more fighting, he could just walk a few steps more and let himself relax.

Sojiro nodded. He patted Ren's shoulder. "Have fun. And don't push yourself too hard."

"Okay." He reached out and rapped his knuckles against Futaba's door.

Morgana paced back and forth in front of the door, and when it opened he immediately shot between Futaba's legs like a bullet. She let out a little surprised "eep," and turned to send what must have been a glare over her shoulder at the rambunctious feline. Then she glanced back at Ren and grinned. "Heya bro! How're you feeling?"

"Like you should probably let me inside before I pass out in the hallway," he quipped back, giving her a skewed smile.

Futaba nodded, and opened the door wider, gesturing him inside.

Sojiro moved to help him, but Ren shook his head. "I've got it. Thank you."

The cafe owner just nodded. "Okay," he said. "You've got it. And, uh, always. Love ya." Before Ren could so much as process that, Sojiro was halfway down the stairs.

Futaba's eyebrows were almost off her forehead. "Uh," she said, sounding absolutely dumbstruck. "Congrats on the dadly affection."

And Ren burst out laughing, placing one hand on the doorframe to stop from collapsing entirely. He laughed until his eyes blurred over from tears, and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and kept on laughing.


Ren nodded to the familiar-looking cell phone in a stand on Futaba's desk, hooked up to her computer. "You've been messing with Anachronism's phone?" He was sitting next to her bed – she'd made a sort of picnic-blanket setup with some spare comforters, and dumped a metric ton of pillows and stuffed animal friends around the blanket. Something soft on all sides, as far as the eye could see.

"Mhm!" She plopped down in her chair, spinning around and typing as she talked. "I'm not really used to working on mobile OS's, but Bis has a ton of experience and since we were chatting anyway, I asked her for some help and she ran me through the basics."

Ren didn't know exactly what all of those words meant, but he nodded along.

"I was able to peel open some of the system through the USB connection, but it wasn't really showing much, there's way more security checks and weirdness there than I expected, and stuff even Bis wasn't comfy handling." Fingers lifted from the keys so Futaba could flap her hands with manic energy, and then she returned to her task. "We tried doing a remote hack, comparing the security of your right-now phone to Anachronism's, and it's night and day."

"What was that about my right-now phone?" Ren asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I uh," she seemed a little sheepish, "I may have sent you a text that hacked your phone while you were asleep. For, like, a minute."

He blinked. There was something there that wasn't quite clicking.

"Is that why Ren was mumbling about his contact names?" Morgana asked from his perch on Futaba's bed.

Oh. "You hacked my phone to prank me by messing with my contacts?" He couldn't help but grin. "Ryuji's right, you are absolutely a gremlin."

"Shush your dumb face," she fired back, sending both a smile and a glare at him. "I just needed a test case to compare the security. Anachronism's phone probably isn't uncrackable, but it really doesn't like people snooping." Futaba shrugged. "I'll keep picking at it, though, when I'm not working on investigation stuff. If there's secrets there, I'll find them."

"Speaking of," Morgana added, "have you found anything new on An-So yet?"

"Yep!" she chirped. "But you're just going to have to wait till our hot pot to find out." She let out a mischievous laugh.


Futaba had set up her laptop on her chair, made herself comfortable on the floor next to Ren, and somehow managed to call the Thieves from the aforementioned laptop. He didn't understand it, but he didn't need to. Any semblance of thought dropped out of his head the moment the screen lit up with five grinning faces.

Yusuke, Ryuji, Kasumi, Ann, and Makoto arranged in a loose semicircle on the floor, surrounded by respective packaged snacks and what looked like five different kinds of takeout. All staring right at him.

"Renren holy shiiit!" Ryuji shouted – he could see Kasumi wince at the volume, but she kept smiling. "It's so good to see you, what the fuck."

"Hey Sunshine," Ren said, and his voice sounded so unlike him, soft and kind. "Missed you."

"Don't forget about the rest of us," Makoto added, chuckling. "Though I understand your boyfriend takes priority."

Ren laughed. "Okay, I admit it. I love you all a whole fucking lot and holy shit I've missed each and every one of you." They'd barely started the call and he was already tearing up. It had only been a few days but he felt the ache in his chest like he hadn't seen them for a year.

"The feeling is mutual," Yusuke said, smiling softly. "I can't count the number of times I forgot you hadn't joined us, and expected I could simply find you in the hotel lobby and convince you to join me on yet another wild escapade."

"Wild esc-escapade like taking a tour of every food stand on the island," Kasumi asked with a little impish grin, "or like finding a rare crust-crustacean to model for you?"

Ann snorted with laughter, and Yusuke looked somewhat ruffled by the mockery, but simply rolled his eyes and let it slide off him.

"Oh that definitely sounds like Inari." Futaba giggled, kicking her legs.

"How've you been adjusting, Lady Kasumi?" Morgana asked, on his stomach on Futaba's bed so he could make it into shot. "The other Thieves haven't been pushing you too hard, have they?"

She shook her head. "Not at all! It's been wonderful with everyone here, I think adj-adjusting to being in a new place was easier, with them?" Kasumi stared at the ground, almost bashful. "Even though I'm not quite as comfortable as I'd like to be, it's still l-lovely to be a part of this."

"Aww, Kasumi." Ann leaned over and gently bumped shoulders with the girl. "It's lovely to have you be a part of this." And to Ren. "I missed you too, by the way. We all did."


"I got in contact with Bis," Futaba began, after she'd finished her portion of curry. "It was a little harder than I thought, cause she's not in Medjed anymore."

"Was she not one of the founding members?" Yusuke asked, between bites of some sort of strange seafood-and-rice combination that probably tasted better than it looked.

"She was, yeah." Futaba scooted her legs under her, shifting her weight onto the front of her feet and crouching rather than sitting. "We both were. I left cause of my own stuff, but she left cause she felt like it wasn't safe there anymore."

"Shit." Ryuji leaned back, left leg jittering idly. "Like, were they threatening to hack her or something?"

"The way she described it, it sounded like a hostile takeover." Futaba's expression was neutral, but Ren felt just the barest hint of bitterness to her tone. "A whole ton of new hackers coming in with new priorities, and a bunch of the old guard either retiring or dropping off the face of the internet. Bis never heard of anyone getting threatened or anything like that, just..."

"Mob rule," Makoto offered. "The tide of opinion had turned against them, and no doubt their authority within that organization had been undermined."

Futaba nodded. "Yep. It was bullshit, and probably someone trying to hijack the Medjed brand for their own reasons." And she broke into a little, triumphant smile. "So when I offered her a chance to get back at the fakers, she was all over it." Futaba tapped the tips of her fingers together in sequence. "We hopped into one of the old Medjed hangouts via a backdoor–"

"You went to where they were meeting?" Kasumi asked, her eyes wide.

"Oh, no no no, like...virtual hangouts." Futaba gave an awkward chuckle. "Where we all used to talk with each other and plan our next hit."

"Oh," Kasumi said. "Um, sorry. Don't know comp-computers that well."

"You're not alone there," Ren said. "I grew up in the country, I barely know this stuff either." He nodded to his sister. "Go ahead, Taba. You were talking about the hangout?"

She nodded back. "Okay, so we kinda hit a lucky break on that, cause the new Medjed fakers are still using the same avenues we used to. Some of them, at least. No Anu or Sobek, but Bis recognized a ton of names from right before she left. And, get this: they were talking about An-So's next move"

If the room had been quiet before, this was silence balanced on the edge of a pin.

"Do you think this was a meeting for An-So?" Ann asked. "Like, using Medjed like some kinda puppet?"

Futaba shrugged. "Maybe some of them, but it sounded more like they were collaborators. They were throwing a bunch of encrypted stuff around – it'd take years to try and crack even one of those – but Bis actually noticed a server they were talking about steering clear of, saying that no one was allowed to hit it." She plopped back down, kicking her legs. "It's a kinda unique server too, cause it's only used by one company. None other than Okumura Foods."

The name didn't ring much of a bell. No one else seemed to recognize the significance either, not until Kasumi's face lit up. "Oh! That's the company that o-owns Big Bang Burger!"

"Yep!" Futaba wiggled her fingers.

"Why's An-So going to bat for Triple B's?" Ryuji mumbled, brow furrowed.

"Maybe they like the food?" Morgana offered. "I've heard it's good. Not to my refined palate, of course."

"Okumura," Makoto said. "I don't know why, but I feel like that name rings a bell."

"Oh, it gets better," Futaba said. "I did some digging into Okumura Foods, and turned up a whole lot of weirdness. So they own BBB, but also have a stake in something like five hundred different farms across Japan, and they're notorious union-busters. There's also been a few articles that got scrubbed from the internet about how the CEO, Mister Okumura himself, has been using money from the company to fund a bunch of different political groups. And guess what group was top of the funding list?"

"An-So," Ren finished. "Fuck." He reached up and twisted his hair around one finger. "Something's not right here. I feel like there's something we're missing."

"Uh, if I can summarize?" Ann offered. "An-So is working with Medjed, and Medjed is working with Okumura Foods, and Okumura Foods is giving money to An-So, and An-So is using that money to fund politicians who get mental shutdowns."

"And laboratories looking into cognitive pscience," Yusuke added.

"Are we like, onto a fucking conspiracy here or something?" Ryuji asked. "Cause it's sounding like we're about to uncover some serious shit."

Ren sighed. "Maybe we already have."

Futaba wiggled in place, seemingly unaffected by the dire tone. "How'd you guys like a chance to throw a wrench in things?"

Makoto raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

"When Ann did her whole summary, did'ja notice how everything kinda goes in a circle? Medjed helps Okumura who helps An-So who helps Medjed. And if one of those guys goes down..." She brought her hands together and pulled them apart, miming the sound of explosion. "Or, at least, it'll make things way tougher for the other two."

Kasumi hummed. "We'd still have to find a way to stop a bunch of hackers, or a big c-company, or...whatever An-So is."

"But we've got a name," Futaba insisted. "CEO Okumura is a public figure, his information's really easy to pull up."

Ren blinked. A name. A name. "The Meta-Nav," he said, almost breathless.

Futaba pulled out her phone, flashing a devious grin as she pointed it at both Ren and the laptop's camera. Her Metaverse Navigator open. Kunikazu Okumura, Okumura Foods HQ. Match found.

"Holy fuck," Ryuji said. "Taba, you're a genius. Like a human astronaut."

She giggled. "I just know stuff and things and I barely sleep. Bis helped a lot, she's been great."

"You should thank her for us," Makoto said, a shadow of a smile on her face. "Whatever An-So's up to, we can't reasonably allow this corruption to continue."

"If Okumura's heart changes, he'll confess to what An-So's up to," Ann added.

Kasumi nodded excitedly. "And maybe he'll know more about the c-cognitive psience labs, or mental shutdowns."

"This is the opportunity of a lifetime," Morgana said. "We can't let this slip through our fingers."

"I'm with Mona!" Ryuji grinned, planting his fist into his palm. "It's 'bout damn time the world gets to know about these An-So dipshits."

"Those who hide in the shadows fear no retribution," Yusuke said. "Should we thrust them into the light, then the truth will make itself known."

"Right." Ren stared at the name, at the red and black almost seeming to swirl at the center of his vision. "We've got our next target then. Kunikazu Okumura."


Ren wished Ryuji was here with him. It was nice to look at him, to hear his voice, but he wanted to hold his hand, to be close to him. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe, to not get caught up in the tide of recollection. "I spent a year in prison, after that. The guy didn't even show up at trial, never got a reason why, just one witness; the woman who said I pushed him. She gave her piece, and no one questioned anything, and then I was guilty. In and out."

Makoto let out a sharp breath. "Ren, that's...I'm so sorry."

He shrugged, forcing a smile, opening his eyes. "It's in the past. Doesn't mean it wasn't bullshit, it was, but I'm here now. I'm not there anymore. I'm not..." He hesitated. Was now the right time? He hadn't told them, Yusuke or Makoto or Kasumi or...or Ryuji. His eyes found Ann through the laptop screen, desperately searching for some sign of affirmation.

Her expression was calm. Patient, like she was waiting for him. There wasn't a hint of pressure, an ounce of push in one way or the other.

It would have been easier, if Ren wasn't the one who had to make the decision. It would have been so, so much easier.

"I almost died in prison." Like reading from a script. Words so simple, so succinct, and so much like lead on his tongue. "I just couldn't handle it. Being alone there, being hurt like I was. So I just..." Ren shrugged, like it was something he could just rid himself of. "Got thrown in solitary after that. For my safety. I remember I kept peeling off the bandages just so someone would have to come in and replace them, so I wouldn't be so fucking alone." He laughed, trying not to focus on the awful hurt in his friends' eyes. "They don't let you die in prison. You're not allowed to. Against the rules. But they don't do much to keep you alive, either."

Silence.

Futaba scooted closer, resting her head on his shoulder.

Morgana pressed his skull into Ren's, purring softly.

"When I get back," Ryuji said, and Ren didn't know how his voice was so steady, so loving, so kind, "I'm going to give you the longest, biggest fucking hug on the planet. Mark my goddamn words."

Ren laughed, because it was easier. "I'll look forward to it." He didn't let the quiet stretch for much longer. "Can, uh, someone else talk? Doesn't have to be heavy shit anymore, just...hate sitting with it."

"You're brave," Ann said, plainly. "I know it's, like, reductive to say that. But you are." She smiled, and it hurt. "And I think I'm kinda lost for words cause holy shit how do I ever be worthy of that kinda trust?"

"It's not worthiness," Ren replied. "You're you. You're all just exactly who you are. I trust you because...fuck it, I don't know that I can even articulate why. But I trust you, all of you. If I didn't, I wouldn't have said it." He swallowed, shoving his tears back down, stifling the knot in his throat. "I trust you."

"I," Kasumi began, hesitation between every syllable, "my parents took my sister away." The bluntness of it sent a little shudder through Ren. "My sister, Sumire; we were twins, and I wanted to be so much like her. My parents didn't like that, but she always enc-encouraged me. She said we could do gymnastics together, the two of us, as sisters." She took an unsteady breath. "We did, for a while. And we were really good. She was always b-better than me, though. But I wanted to be good. So I kept on trying. And then my parents took her away, and..." She trailed off, as if trying to catch her breath.

"Kasumi," Yusuke said. Quiet, a little smile. "You are safe here. You do not owe us your story. Not a truth, not a word, beyond that which you are readily willing to share. We will listen, but I promise we do not expect you to speak."

She nodded. Like she was trying to decide, again. "I want to tell," she said, firm, confident. Kasumi breathed in, and out. "When we were in middle school, Sumire started having s-seizures, and seeing things that weren't there."

Ren felt Futaba tense next to him, a hitch in her breathing. He placed a hand on her shoulder, careful as he could manage. And when she relaxed, he pulled her into a gentle sideways hug.

"My parents took her to a bunch of d-doctors, but they never told me about it. Never told me what was happening with my sister." A glint of anger in her voice, like an ember bursting back to flame. "I wasn't ever scared of her, but I was so terr-terrified she was dying. Sumire was the only one who ever told me the truth, and even then, she didn't know that much. Just half-words, little ideas. Trying to make sure I wouldn't w-worry. And then one day she was gone." Kasumi smiled, and sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Before we left for Hawaii, they said...they'd let me see her again, when I got back. She's been gone for two years, and they thought I should have f-forgotten her." Kasumi's lip quivered. "I almost did. I almost forgot Sumire."

"You remembered," Futaba said. "That's...that's the important part. You remembered, and you're gonna see her."

Kasumi nodded, beaming through the laptop screen at Futaba.

"Your parents fucked up," Ryuji said. Blunt as he ever was, and no less kind. "S'not on you to take responsibility for that. It's never a kid's job to apologize for shit their 'rents pulled. Fucking never."

"Right," Kasumi said. "It's hard, I still feel awful. But I'll try?"

"Trying's all you gotta do," Ryuji mumbled, grinning and leaning over, extending his hand in a fist.

Kasumi hesitated, and then gently reached out and bumped her knuckles against Ryuji's.

The Thieves had all told their stories, or as much as they were capable of. Every one of them, except–

"Makoto?" Ren asked. "I promise you don't have to share, if you don't want to. But we're here for you."

She made a sound that was almost a laugh, and looked away. "Right. Yes, I'm the last one, aren't I?"

"Not if you don't want to be," Ann said softly, reaching out a hand towards Makoto, then pulling it back, unsure.

"I don't think I can be." Makoto smiled, like she was covering up her pain. "Not yet. I know you don't want me to apologize for that, but I'm sorry. I'm not where I need to be yet, for that."

"Apology accepted," he said. "But you know we're not the type to rush things like that, right? It's not something any of us needs from you, and I know I for one am comfortable waiting as long as you need."

Makoto chuckled, a little strained. "I still feel as if I need to make this up to you, somehow. Balance things out. It's selfish of me, I know, but–"

Ren wanted to tell her not to, wanted to reassure her, but that wasn't how Makoto operated, was it? She needed something to do, something to focus on. Sitting idly in an uncomfortable place like this would have driven her crazy. "Trust us, then. And if you want to pay us back, then just keep on letting us trust you. That's...you do that, that's all any of us ever want."

"Yeah," Ann said. "I mean...no, fuck it, yeah." This time, she did lay a hand on her shoulder. "We don't need to know what happened in your past, Makoto. You're here, now. You're a fucking Phantom Thief. If you never tell us, that's okay. Just don't push us away, alright?" She smiled softly. "Cause I want to trust you. This won't change that one bit. Never will."

Makoto was silent, and Ren knew she was mulling those words over in that sharp mind of hers. She reached a hand up and placed it over Ann's. "Alright," she said, simply. "Thank you."


█████
Morning
Cafe Leblanc, Attic

No one had told the birds that the world was ending. Nor the sky. It had been a warm few December nights, and now the sun rose on a dying world, and the sunbaked air was full of birdsong.

The Trickster sat on his bed, staring at the ground. He hadn't slept more than maybe an hour – both Sun and Moon had made sure he stayed in bed, refused to let him wander – but he felt completely lucid. Exhausted beyond hope of description, but awake.

He'd barely dressed. Daytime t-shirt and pajama pants, socks but no shoes. He couldn't quite make his body move the way he wanted it to.

Footsteps on the stairs, and his Moon poked her head into the attic. "Knock knock," she said.

"Come on in," he said, almost automatic.

She did, and sat down on the bed next to him. "Nervous?" she asked.

"Probably." The Trickster chuckled. "I'm feeling just about every negative emotion I can think of. So, I'd assume nervousness is a part of it."

His Moon nodded. "Are you feeling anything that isn't negative?"

He shrugged. "I love you, and █████. That hasn't changed. I don't think it ever will." The Trickster thought about it. "I'm grateful that you all believe in me. I guess that's it."

"I think those are lovely things to feel," she said. And she scooted closer. "Would you like to know what I feel?"

"Are you going to say you love me too?" he asked.

"Of course!" She giggled. "And, that I'll miss you. That I'm sorry. That I wish I could go with you. That it's unfair you should face this alone." His Moon reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tight. "And I want to say a promise, one I probably should have said earlier. That when this is all over, I'll find you. I swear I will."

"You'll be here," he said, and he wished he believed it. "I don't want you to come find me. I mean, I do, but...I don't want you to give up what you have. Not to chase me."

"Sometimes love is worth fighting for," she said, firmly. It was cheesy, and cliche, and entirely sincere.

"Is it worth dying for?" he asked.

"Sometimes," she said. "There are worse things to die for. And no one lives forever, not even a Phantom. I have to pick why, so it might as well be for something I choose."

He felt something deep inside him flutter against his chest. A fear he'd known since the moment this began. "You know, don't you?" he said. "You know that it's...that we can't...you know."

"I know," she said, "that we won't win. I'm very aware." His Moon smiled, and tilted her head. "Did you think I wasn't? Or, that I was holding onto hope?"

The Trickster shrugged, and squeezed her hand. "I just didn't think of you as someone who risked her life on principle."

She giggled. "Oh, I'm not. The principle is some of it, to be sure, but that's not why I'm fighting." His Moon stared at the wall, her smile slowly fading. "I'm fighting because that...thing, in the sky, wants to take my home. It wants to take away everything and everyone I have ever loved." Her voice was light, and her expression firm. "So when it tries, when it comes to end the Earth, I am going to make it hurt. I am going to make sure that it knows the Phantom Thieves would never let their world die without a fight."

His heart ached, like he'd forgotten about it until that moment. He wanted, then, to say every word he'd ever thought, but he couldn't remember a single one. So he sat, silent, with her.

"Oh!" His Moon started. "I forgot! I was going to harvest yesterday, but it completely slipped my mind."

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Priorities, ████."

"If they go bad, you can't use them to cook with." She bumped her shoulder into his, giggling. "Say, if you get done before me, could you stop by and pick them up? I know it's a little out of your way, but I'll probably be pretty wiped out."

"Of course." It was the least he could do. If they won, if they lived, he would haul the whole rooftop back. He'd cook until his arms lay limp on his side, enough for every Thief and every member of the SRU and all of his friends. Enough for everyone. Enough for the whole stupid, tenacious world. He hadn't cried in days, maybe weeks, maybe months, but he cried now. Tears slipping out before he could catch them.

Through blurry eyes, he saw his Moon lean closer, reaching up to wipe the tears from his cheeks with her thumb. "You're so brave," she said, "and wonderful." And she kissed him.

And reality pitched to the left. Red and black washed over them as the MEER attached to the Tokyo Tower pulsed out its metaversal melody.

His mask bumped against hers. "Oh shoot," she muttered. "We're late."

"Sorry," he chuckled, swallowing the knot in his throat.

She scooted away and stood. "I should go meet everyone else. I wouldn't want to be left behind, after all."

"█████," he called. His hands shuddering on the bed. He didn't want her to go.

His Moon paused. "We're in costume now," she said, facing away from him, "so shouldn't we be using our codenames?" Teasing as her tone was, there was something stifled between her words. And he knew she didn't want to go either. "This isn't goodbye; don't forget that. We'll see each other again before you know it. So stay strong, Joker."

"I'll remember. I promise I will." He smiled back, and his heart ached out a desperate sound he'd never let himself make. "Stay strong, Noir."


Yet another shoutout and lots of love for Jane for beta reading and brainstorming; and just writing some absolutely amazing stuff related to her tabletop character that inspired me a ton when writing this chapter.