CONTENT WARNING: The section beginning with ""Sorry," Ren said, once everyone else had left." contains allusions to statutory abuse. Please take breaks or skip sections as necessary. Stay safe.
9/15 – Wednesday
After School
Takemi Medical Clinic
Maruki had texted that morning with a thousand apologies alongside a last-minute cancellation – the police currently combing Shujin had turned their attention towards him for the day, and better to cancel his appointments than to risk being arrested for not complying with their investigation. Not that Ren felt that comfortable sharing anything even remotely confidential in the same building as a cop anyway. That did mean his afternoon was freer than he'd expected it to be, and Ren had time to fit in a quick shopping trip with Ann and Ryuji before rushing off to his appointment with Takemi.
"Doctor?" he called. She wasn't at her desk, but it hadn't been the first time.
"Come on in, Ren," Takemi replied from within the examination room.
He slipped through the door, and froze, his hand still on the handle. "Uh," he said.
A young girl in a dark dress stared back at him from Takemi's computer chair, her curly blonde hair sticking out in every direction. She couldn't have been older than twelve, and clearly perplexed at the sight of a high schooler standing in the doorway.
Takemi chuckled, standing up on the other end of the chair, an orange pill bottle in one loose hand. "Miwa, this is the assistant I mentioned to you. The young man who helped me with your treatment." And then she locked eyes with Ren, her gaze pointed. Almost like she was commanding him to play along.
"Hi," he said. "Um, yeah. That's...me."
Her eyes lit up, staring at him with a newfound awe. "Oh," she said, stretching the word out. And she bowed her head so fast Ren was worried she might have given herself whiplash. "Thank you very much mister assistant!" All in one breath.
"Close the door, Ren." Takemi waited until he complied before crouching down to the girl's level. "This little miss is Miwa, the patient I mentioned before. Her older sister went to the university where Oyamada and I worked." Her eyes flicked towards Ren.
It took the statement a while to sink in, and when it did, Ren found a silent ache settling in his gut.
Takemi's cold gaze melted away as she turned her focus towards Miwa. "Here you are, little lady." And she handed the girl the pill bottle. "Make sure to tell your grandmother to keep checking her mail for next month's prescription. Do you know what to do if you start getting lightheaded, or feeling very warm out of nowhere?"
Miwa tilted her head, like she was trying to remember. Then the girl started. "I call you!"
"That's right," Takemi chuckled. "You're a smart girl, Miwa." She straightened up, and the girl hopped off her chair. "And with that, you're all done. No more appointments necessary."
"No more tests?" Miwa asked, like she didn't quite believe her.
"Not a single one," Takemi said. "So long as you take your medicine every day, you won't need to visit any doctor."
The girl nodded, slowly. She shifted in place, then rushed towards Takemi and hugged her. "I'll miss you, miss Takemi!"
Takemi was still, almost frozen. Then she gently reached down and patted Miwa's head. "I'll miss you too," she said, an odd smile on her face.
With that, and every impossible ounce of youthful vigor, Takemi's patient rushed out of the examination room.
It was silent, for a time.
"Crawford-Ende's isn't a contagious condition," Takemi said. "It's not transmissible through any means, but relatives of an affected individual are genetically predisposed towards it." The smile was gone from her lips now. "Miwa lost her mother to Crawford-Ende's nearly a decade ago. And then she lost her sister. A few years after, she tested positive for the very same illness."
"That's awful," Ren said.
"But history doesn't have to repeat itself. This was her last appointment." Takemi sat down in her chair – Ren matched her motion, hopping up on the examination table. "She'll be on a daily prescription for the foreseeable future, and she'll likely have to adopt if she ever wants children. But Miwa will be able to live a normal life. No more doctors, no more tests, no more sick days turning into sick weeks." Her expression was oddly relaxed now, almost serene. "If it hadn't been for you changing Oyamada's heart, that wouldn't have been possible. Ren Amamiya, I double-booked you to ensure that you are very aware not only that you saved a young girl's life, but exactly whose life you saved."
Ren blinked. He felt like he should have been proud of that, of himself. But it just felt empty, not quite real. Not something that someone like him could be capable of.
"I'm grateful," Takemi said, a little more firmly. "When I told you before I owe you for helping me redeem myself, that wasn't incorrect. But it wasn't entirely accurate." Her dark eyes seemed softer than usual, but no less sharp. Somehow both kind and cold. "You saved my patient. So, allow me to reaffirm at this moment. I may be your doctor, and I may protect you on the simple basis of confidentiality; but I am, at this moment, an accomplice." Takemi smirked.
"It's dangerous," Morgana whispered. "If Doctor Takemi gets involved, she might get targeted by the police, or Black Mask."
Ren took a deep breath. "We're putting our lives on the line here," he said, picking his words carefully. "It's not just changing hearts or the mental shutdowns. There's more going on than you might think. And if you stick around, try to help us more, you might be caught up in it."
The goth doctor stared at him for a long while. "I wouldn't expect any less," she replied, "but it doesn't do, to have the adults stand back and let the children die for their safety." A hand up, fingers brushing against her bullet necklace. "I think I've seen far too much of young people risking their lives alone. It's long past time that I do more than wait for others to get hurt." She swiveled the chair around, facing away. "My schedule is a lot more open now that Miwa's treatment is complete." Her tone was casual again, almost conversational. "I'll have a lot of time on my hands to experiment with stronger, more effective medication. And, should you discover any particular problems that I might be able to solve, I do hope you'll let me know."
"I will," Ren affirmed. He couldn't help but smile. "You know, it's kind of funny. I only came here in the first place because I'd heard you were dangerous."
"Is that what you heard?" Almost a chuckle in her voice.
"At first, yeah." He let his eyes wander around the room, towards the morbid displays of skeletal structures and warning-signs for common, yet drastic ailments. "But I wouldn't have kept coming, if that was really the case. If you were really the Plague, I never would have stuck around. From what I've seen, the name doesn't really fit you that well."
Silence, for a time. "Thank you," Takemi said, quietly. And Ren could hear the smile behind her words.
9/15 – Wednesday
Evening
Kanda Church
"May I..." Hifumi began, then trailed off. She sighed, seeming distinctly frustrated. "I would like to ask you for advice."
"Who's the tutor now?" Ren asked, chuckling.
She sent a glare across the board, then moved a pawn forward into Ren's territory.
"Sorry for teasing." Maybe it was bait, but he took her pawn. "Happy to help. Go ahead."
She didn't, for a moment, silently analyzing the board before returning one of her rooks to play. "My mother has requested that I throw my next tournament."
Ren blinked. "Throw...like, lose on purpose?" He advanced his knight, pressuring the same rook.
"In a sense." Hifumi sighed. "Women's professional shogi operates on a ranking system, where more experienced or successful players will be given a handicap when facing players of lesser rank. I have struggled a great deal to reach my current rank: 1-kyu. But I have not yet been able to reach the next rank, 1-dan, despite my efforts." She shifted her king over towards her more defended left front. There was an opening now on the other side of the board, a clear shot. "If I lose this next tournament, it will become nigh-impossible to be promoted to 1-dan until next year at the earliest."
"And then you'll have the handicap edge for longer, right?" Ren slid his rook into the opening, flipping it over. "Oh, uh, check."
"That is my mother's assessment, yes. She believes I will achieve more impressive victories in the future, and that my role will shift from a prodigy to an underdog." Hifumi cleanly took his rook with her bishop.
"Are those official roles?" Ren asked.
"No, not quite." Hifumi rested her chin on one hand, gazing idly at the board. "But they are roles assigned to players by press."
"Gotcha." He hummed out a thought. "I guess, logically your mom's plan makes some sense."
Her gaze snapped up. "Explain," she said, coldly.
"Most people probably don't know how much advantage a handicap gives," Ren said. "If you're only focusing on trying to make a good show for the press, then sticking at a lower rank and then clawing your way back up is a good story." He smiled, advancing his gold general towards her weaker front. "But that's not why you play shogi, right? I mean, I've seen how much you enjoyed our games, and I'm not even that good of an opponent. So, if I were you, I'd tell your mom to fuck off."
Hifumi seemed to take all that in. And then she chuckled, hiding it behind one hand. "I wouldn't sell yourself short. I told you before, didn't I?" She blocked his general with her own. "You're a uniquely talented individual."
"Versed in mimicry." Ren felt a laugh bubble out of him. "Gotta say though, this play feels a lot better on this end. I can see why you liked it so much."
Hifumi, still smiling, simply raised an eyebrow.
"What was the name again?" He snapped his fingers for dramatic effect. "Oh, right." Ren lifted his rook, and snapped it down onto the same line as Hifumi's king. "Burning Cage of Hell."
She laughed. An honest giggle, slipping past her lips without so much as an attempt to prevent it. "I only showed you that play once, and here you've replicated it nearly perfectly. That's amazing."
"Only nearly?" Ren asked.
Hifumi's smile quirked into a smirk, and she slid her bishop from its spot near Ren's defenses to take his rook.
Ren blinked. Wait. He stared at her. "You knew."
"I had a guess," she said, simply, "and I prepared for that eventuality." Hifumi hummed out a little satisfied sound. "The Cage is inescapable from the inside. But not quite so from the outside. All that is required to counter it–" She tapped her bishop. "–is preparation. Foresight can negate more than a few unbeatable plays." Hifumi lifted her hand from the board. "It's your turn again, Amamiya. Please, continue to impress me."
He let out a long breath, then slipped his gold general past hers. "I'll do my best."
9/16 – Thursday
After School
Setagaya Psychiatric Hospital
It didn't feel quite real, sitting in the waiting room next to Kasumi, staring at doctors milling about, passing time in silence. It hadn't felt real getting a ride from her father to the hospital, it hadn't felt real watching Kasumi talk to the front desk, and it didn't feel real now. Legs on autopilot, mind full of cotton, eyes glazing over. Ren could only imagine how it felt for her.
"Thank you for being here with me," she said. She'd already thanked him that day alone more times than he could count. "It means a lot." Her hands were unsteady in her lap, wiggling against each other, probably working off an impossible amount of nervous energy.
"Of course." He smiled. "You're my friend. Besides, I'm really looking forward to meeting her."
Kasumi smiled back. "I think she'll like you. I mean, I like you. You're very kind, and you're a good list-listener, and you care a lot about the people around you."
Ren couldn't help but chuckle, reaching up to spin a strand of hair between two fingers. "I dunno. Caring a lot isn't always a good thing."
Kasumi might have wanted to respond, but her breath caught, and she leapt to her feet. Her hands shook by her sides. She took one, unsteady step forward. "Sumire," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
The two were sisters, that much was clear from the matching crimson hair spilling down the girl's back. But Sumire's was messier, unkempt, full of tangles. Her dark eyes focused on Kasumi from behind wide-rimmed glasses that seemed to amplify the bags under her eyes. Her skin was pale, no doubt from years under neon light, and she had a cane tucked under one arm. Ren felt queasy as the implication of its necessity set in.
Ren stood up, stepping just a little closer as Kasumi reached her sister.
"You're here," Sumire said, her voice quiet, and empty. "You're..." She blinked, squinting at Kasumi, brow furrowed. "You can't be here though. It's not you, right?"
Kasumi let out a shuddering breath. "Sumi, it's me. It's your sis-sister." She reached out a hand. "It really is me."
Sumire just stared down at it, and mirrored the motion. Like it was simple, like she expected to be disappointed. When her hand brushed against Kasumi's, she pulled it back like she'd been burned, eyes widening. The nearby aid, a female doctor, flinched towards the scene, but paused. Sumire looked down at her own hand, opening and closing it, flexing the digits. Then she reached out again, and took her sister's. "Kasumi." Awe in every syllable.
Kasumi was smiling, and crying, and wiping the tears from her eyes as she beamed at Sumire. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you. But I did, I f-found you. I'm here now." She sniffled. "I'm sorry, I'm so so–"
And Sumire stepped towards her, and opened her arms, and pulled the girl into a hug. "You're here," she whispered. "I missed you, Mimi. I missed you so so bad."
"I'm sorry," Kasumi whimpered, hugging her sister tight. "I should have c-c-come sooner, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you alone."
"I'm not alone," Sumire said. "You're here. How can I be alone if you're here?"
The two embraced in near-silence, only the buzzing of the overhead lights and Kasumi's quiet sobbing. When even that quieted, Kasumi gently pulled herself out of the embrace, still holding Sumire's hand in her. "I want to in-introduce to someone." She glanced towards Ren, and he stepped closer at the cue. "This is Ren, he's my best fr-friend, and he helped me find you."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Sumire." He let his honest smile drift to the front.
Some of Sumire's hair had fallen in front of her face, and she stared at him from between the tangled locks. "Ren," she repeated. And she made an odd noise, a triplicate hum like the start of a song. Then she held out her other hand, clenched in a loose fist, and opened her fingers. Resting in her palm was a small, crumpled origami crane, the same red as the sisters' hair. "Here. For helping Mimi."
"Uh," Ren said. "Thank you." He reached out and gingerly pinched the crane's bent wing, lifting and turning his hand to catch it in his palm. It was so tiny, intricate, careful. Even crumpled as it was, it was clearly the work of an adept.
"That's crane one-thousand," Sumire said, plainly. "Must be." She looked back towards Kasumi. "Cause I got my wish."
It was family-only farther into the hospital, so Ren stayed in the waiting room. Under ordinary circumstances, he'd probably have spent the time on his phone, scrolling the Phan-Site or texting one of his friends. But there was something small and sacred in his palm, and it drew his complete attention. Like a puzzle piece just slightly out of order.
"Morgana," he said, trying to keep his voice low, "you awake?"
"Yep," came an equally quiet mewl from his bag.
"There's something about an origami crane that feels really familiar." Ren tilted his hand, examining the crumpled little thing. "Does it ring any bells for you?"
"The blue one in the parcel," Morgana replied, immediately. "Right at the end of May."
Right! Right, of course. "It came with a note," he mumbled, closing his eyes to try and recall the message.
I wouldn't have found her if it wasn't for you.
A chill down his spine. "I think," he continued, quietly, "that might have been from Kasumi."
Morgana hummed. "She wanted you to let go of the past, right? That's what the note said. It's important to look forward, not just back."
"Yeah." It seemed a lot more pertinent advice now than it had been in May. "Guess I'll do my best, for that. I wouldn't want to let her down."
A little silence. "I believe in you," Morgana said. "And Kasumi must have believed in you too."
Footsteps, and someone sat down next to Ren. He didn't need to open his eyes to tell who it was, but he did anyway, glancing over at the beaming Kasumi. "Gonna assume it went well, based on that smile," he teased.
"It went really well," she said, and the softness in her voice almost broke his heart. Kasumi took a deep breath and clasped her hands together, almost as if in prayer. "Sumire's really really sm-smart, and clever, and funny, and conf-confident. She's struggling a lot too, but she's...she's still herself. She's still my sister." She swallowed, and glanced up at the artificial lights above. "She shouldn't stay here." Kasumi's tone was even, and firm. "I don't know how hard it's gonna be to get her rel-released, but I know she'll do a lot better outside than in here."
"I don't doubt that," Ren said.
"She'll have you!" Morgana added.
Kasumi nodded. "I'm going to do my best to help her, and get her out of here. It...might take a while, but I'm not going to give up. That's my pr-promise to her, and to myself."
"It's a good promise," Ren said. "If anyone can do it, it'd be you."
"Thank you," she said, so quietly, sending a little smile his way. Then she glanced back off towards the distance. "Her room...it was full of cranes, like the one she gave to you." Kasumi shifted in place on the uncomfortable chair. "There's a story about or-origami cranes, that if you make a thousand of them, that you get to make a wish and it'll come true. But...Sumire lost count." Kasumi laughed, and it was strained with what sounded like a sob. "She told me she just kept making them, and she made her wish on every one. She didn't know which one would be the right one, but she never gave up. She never gave up on..." She trailed off, breathing a little unsteady.
"What was her wish?" Ren asked, but he already knew.
"To see me again," Kasumi almost whispered. "She never gave up on me, Ren. She never gave up."
9/17 – Friday
After School
Shujin Academy, Roof
"Thank you very much for offering to help," Haru said. She was crouching down in front of one of the planters, but glanced over each shoulder in turn to smile at the Thieves. "I'm sorry I don't have more for you all to do, but I'm grateful for the extra hands."
Ryuji just shrugged. "Hey, nothing to it. Helping out people's sorta what we do best." He was tending to another planter, sitting cross-legged on the roof.
Morgana let go of the seed pouch he'd been holding in his teeth. "And you're our friend!" He picked the pouch back up and scrambled over to place it next to Haru.
"We would be remiss to leave such an effort to you alone," Yusuke added, escorting a full watering can over to a third planter.
Haru giggled. "Oh, you're all quite sweet." She carefully plucked a yellow squash from the planter, and handed it to Ren, before working at seeding the dirt it had just come out of. "I don't know that I've done anything to do such kindness."
"Hey," Ann said, taking the squash from Ren. "You don't have to do anything to be deserving of people being nice to you." She paused to elbow Ren, and then transported the veggie across the roof. "That's what these nerds taught me."
Futaba perked up, glancing up from where she sat on top of one of the nearby tables, her computer in her lap. "Uh, you don't mind that I'm not helping that much?" She shifted. "I mean, if anyone needs any help, I can..." Futaba shrugged.
"I will let you know, Miss Sakura," Haru assured. "There's nothing you need to push yourself to do, I promise. You seem quite focused on important matters, I wouldn't want to disturb you."
"Are you ch-checking up on An-So?" Kasumi asked, hopping up on the table next to her.
Futaba made a small "eep" at the sudden presence, but collected herself. "I'm, uh, yep, that? But I'm also seeing if I can find anything online about the police investigation." She tapped a few keys, adjusting her laptop so Kasumi could see too.
The gymnast glanced at the screen, and her eyes seemed to glaze over. "That's a lot of words," she mumbled.
Makoto groaned, letting an enormous bag of fertilizer down and then stretching her back. "That reminds me. I heard that the police at Shujin are starting to pull students out of class to get statements." She glanced around the roof. "You all know your rights, don't you?"
Ren couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him, and the rooftop's focus turned towards him. "Sorry," he said. "Just...I'm on parole. If I get arrested, I'm fucked. Not many rights to speak of there."
"Ah," Makoto said, her expression falling. "I apologize, I..." She swallowed. "I gave myself a refresher just in case, but I didn't look at...I'm sorry."
"It's fine." Ren sighed, reaching up to twist a strand of hair between two fingers. "I'll do a search later, make sure I'm not forgetting anything. We should probably all do that, you're right to remind us."
Makoto just nodded, and the rooftop fell into an uncomfortable silence.
Yusuke was the one to break it. "Haru, I don't mean to pry, but I've been...rather curious, if you wouldn't mind indulging."
"I make no promises," Haru replied, her tone almost cheerful, "but you're welcome to ask whatever you wish, Mister Kitagawa."
"Of course." Yusuke paused, emptying the final droplets from the watering can on a particularly dry-looking patch of dirt. "While your father's proclivities through Okumura Foods and his connection to An-So are the primary reasons we decided to change his heart, I don't expect that either of those were influences behind your decision to do so. If you wouldn't mind, I would be eager to know your reasons."
Morgana made an odd, uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat at the question – right, he and Haru had collaborated on their initial infiltration, it would make sense he'd know the answer – but Haru herself simply nodded. "We are teammates, for the time being," she said, seeming to choose her words carefully. "I believe it's only fair to disclose my grievances with my father, considering that."
If anyone had been still focused on their tasks, they definitely weren't now. Ren had the sudden urge to thank the young woman, but he didn't want to throw her off track.
"I'm not quite sure how much of my frustration towards him is entirely fair," she began. "I've seen my father struggle a great deal, and he's sacrificed a lot to ensure my well-being. But even so..." Haru trailed off, and shook her head. "Even so, perhaps that doesn't quite make up for how he has treated me."
"Yes," Yusuke said, quietly. "Kindness and cruelty are not equivalent actions to be weighed against each other. The former does not undo the latter."
Haru made a little hum at the statement. "I suppose it would be best to start at the beginning." She placed a seed in a small hollow, covered it with dirt, and smoothed it over. "My mother and father met in college, and she passed away soon after I was born, leaving him with little choice but to drop out in order to support me. My grandfather owned Okumura Foods at the time, and he had every ability to provide financially for my father, but chose not to. I'm not quite sure if he did so as a twisted lesson, or some measure of punishment – perhaps even for having a child out of wedlock." She chuckled, and there was no humor in it. "My father worked constantly, and I spent more time at school or in extra-curricular activities than at home. He enrolled me into theater and ballet just to keep me busy, he couldn't even afford a babysitter. When I did see him...I saw his anger. Despite all he was doing for my sake, despite how busy he was, he still found time to direct a great deal of ire towards me." Her tone was calm, but there was something bubbling beneath it. Pain, or fury, or both, or something else altogether.
"That's fucked," Ryuji grumbled. He scooted a little closer to Haru, glancing towards her. "Like, your grandad sounds like a fucking bastard, but your dad still shoulda treated you better, you know? Hurting isn't an excuse to hurt others, 'specially not people who don't have any choice but to stick around. Not like you could just leave."
Haru took that in, quietly, but she didn't respond with much more than a little nod. "There is little my father hates more than someone receiving what he feels they do not deserve, but it draws even greater anger when someone does not receive what he feels they do deserve. And he felt he deserved more than the jobs he worked, more than a position he felt was beneath him." A pause, and a sigh. "My grandfather passed away before I graduated middle school, and my father inherited the company. All that hunger, that desperation, that pride, he channeled it all into Okumura Foods. And I became his quiet heiress." Her lips quirked at the word, though Ren couldn't tell if it was anger or humor.
"You want to open his eyes, right?" Makoto asked. "That's what you said in the Palace."
"Yes," Haru said. "I recognize that it is selfish beyond selfish of me to wish this, but I want for him to see me as his daughter. He has given so much for my sake, but he still looks through me." She raised her head, staring off the edge of the roof, towards the distant sky. "I love my father, despite everything. He has never been good at being a father, but he has sacrificed more than I can express so that I might live a comfortable life." She smiled, a little. "I will accept that I am ungrateful, and more of a burden than I should be. I cannot ever be the son he wished of me, nor the daughter he deserves. I am..." Haru trailed off. "But I will save him from himself. That is something I can do, to pay back everything he's done for me."
Futaba made a little noise in the back of her throat. "Haru, you're not...just his daughter, though. You're your own person. You shouldn't have to try to be someone you're not, just to make him happy." She shifted, kicking her legs off the side of the table. "Even if he's done a lot for you, it's okay to still need something you're not getting."
"You didn't ask him to drop out of college," Ann added. "Or work his ass off, or do any of that stuff. And even if you did, you still deserve better than a dad who treats you like an object or something." She crossed her arms, almost hugging herself. "I think, sometimes it's easier to write a check than actually listen. If he did stuff for you just so you'd leave him alone–"
"I don't know that he did," Haru responded, quick and precise. Then she hesitated. "But, at the same time, I can't say for sure that he didn't. And I do want him to listen."
"Then we'll make him list-listen," Kasumi said, firmly. "We'll change his heart."
"I'm grateful," Haru said, simply.
Ren found his gaze drawn towards the silent Morgana, sitting next to Haru. He looked uncomfortable still, awkward. Like he still knew more that he couldn't say, that the truth would spill out of his little mouth if he so much as opened it. There was something more, wasn't there? An ache across his skull, something unsaid that lingered and itched. Something he needed to know. And something Haru herself probably needed to say.
"Sorry," Ren said, once everyone else had left. "I wanted to ask you something, if that's alright." The roof was empty now, besides for the two of them, and Morgana resting in his bag.
Haru made a little hum, tilting her head. She was sitting in a chair on the other side of the table from Ren. "Is there any particular reason you wish to ask it alone?" Careful brown eyes picking him apart.
Ren shrugged. "I figured, if you were comfortable answering, it probably wouldn't be in front of everyone."
"Ah," she said, and nothing further.
"Okay." Ren took a breath. "In the palace, there was that one cognition. It wasn't like the rest of the robots, and I assume it represents someone your father knows. And the way he acted, what he called you..." He swallowed. "You recognized him. And he said he was your fiancé."
Haru's face didn't so much as change, didn't drop that fake little smile. "What's your question?" she asked, coldly, almost bitter.
For whatever reason, that response sparked something in him. Not quite anger, not quite frustration. Passion, maybe. "You're welcome to tell me to fuck off," he said, "and if you do, I'll listen. I'll drop it. You don't owe me the truth, that's fine, you're welcome to keep that to yourself. I'm not trying to catch you in a lie, Haru. But we're teammates. We're Thieves, both of us. And it wouldn't be the first time I helped another Thief with something they couldn't share with everyone else."
"Hm," Haru said. She seemed to take all that in. "You wish to help me."
"Yes," Ren confirmed.
"I don't know that you can," she said. "I don't know that anyone can."
He shrugged, allowing himself a little smile. "You might be surprised. And if I really can't, then I'll just...be here. At minimum, I'm a pretty good listener."
Haru was silent, and she let it stretch. Her gaze wandered, thoughtful and distant, away from Ren. "I met him a few years ago, she said, finally, "at a company dinner. He was an heir, as I was an heiress, and we bonded over that. At the time – even as he was much older than me – he was kind, and attentive, and we became friends." Ren knew there was a lie in it, somewhere; but worse, there was a horrid, awful honesty. "He changed, as time went on. As we grew closer, he grew crueler, more possessive. I overlooked such things, desperate as I was for anyone who would dare to see me." She wasn't smiling, now. "My father suggested marriage, after a handful of months. At the time, I thought it was acceptable. I assumed it was the best for everyone." She laughed, quick and bitter. "I was a fool."
Ren's mind was bubbling at nothing, twisting and turning around absence, a sharp void that tugged at his insides. "And your dad wouldn't listen if you told about how he's treating you." He didn't know where the words came from, he hadn't called them, but he meant every one.
"I have told him," Haru said, "and he has not listened. That's...more than anything, I wish to change my father's heart to rid myself of that man who calls himself my fiancé." There was a fury in her stoicism, an anger in every word.
"How much time until the wedding?" Ren asked.
"My father has arranged a ceremony after I turn eighteen, near the end of this year." Haru's tone was more conversational now, simpler, even as tension still lay behind each syllable. "At that point, our union will technically be legal."
Ren's fingers twitched against the table. His blood felt hot in his veins. "Even so, in the meantime, you're still being treated like...what, property?"
Haru nodded, silently.
Ren took a breath. "We don't have to change your father's heart right away. I don't know if your fake fiancé has a Palace, but even if he does, there should be enough time to change his heart and then your father's, if you want to prioritize the fucker who's..." He couldn't say the word. He knew it, but he couldn't say it. "And right now, mental shutdowns are happening pretty often. People expect them. If...well, I guess, another shutdown wouldn't be that hard to hide."
Haru blinked. She looked towards him, eyes wide, her mouth slightly open. "You're...offering to..."
"The rest of Thieves wouldn't draw the connection," he said. "You and me – and probably Mona – are the only people who know about him. The police are already trying to pin all the shutdowns on us anyway, so one more wouldn't make too much of a difference–"
She held up a hand, and he stopped talking. Haru just stared at Ren, maybe disbelief or maybe shock across her face. She lowered her hand, composed herself. "Why offer that?" she asked, quietly. "It goes against the Thieves' creed, doesn't it? You don't kill."
"We haven't killed," he corrected. "Doesn't mean we can't, or won't. It's just how things have worked out so far." Ren pursed his lips. "I can't say causing a shutdown is ideal, but..." He took a careful breath. "Neither is being assaulted." He almost expected her to wince, to recoil, but she held strong. "If we change his heart, he'll leave you alone, but he'll...confess. We probably won't be able to keep people from finding out what he did to you. But if he has a shutdown? You never have to deal with him again, and no one finds out."
"I..." Haru began, then quieted. She just watched Ren, looked at him, like she was trying to understand something incomprehensible. Trying to match up the pieces. "I will think about that," she said, finally.
He nodded, the bitterness setting in like a thick film across his tongue. "Sorry," he said. "It's not an easy decision, I know that. I meant what I said though. Open offer. Just let me know." And Ren scooted back his chair, leaning down to gently lift his bag and then turning towards the door.
"Ren." And he stopped, glanced over his shoulder. Haru had the strangest expression on her face, he couldn't place it. "Do you have much experience with men like that?"
He just shrugged, faced the door again. "It's funny," he said. "Juvie's a shitshow, nothing really good to say about it, but you do end up meeting a lot of different kinds of people. Most of them don't deserve to be stuck in a hell like that, I'd say almost everyone there deserves better. But..." He took a long breath in and out. "Some of them deserve a whole lot worse."
