CONTENT WARNING: This contains multiple references to self harm, suicide and abuse. While not graphic, this content still may be difficult or upsetting to read, so please take breaks or skip sections as needed. Stay safe.
10/9 – Sunday
Evening
Shinjuku, Crossroads Bar
"This was back about a year and a half ago," Ohya began. "Right after I published that article on Shido. My..." An odd, melancholy smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. "My girlfriend at the time couldn't write for shit, but she was one hell of an investigator. Kayo...well, she convinced me to take another look at the story, she smelled something there. And even back then, I wanted to get the hell out of writing tabloids. So we took another look. Started asking around about Shido."
Ren just nodded. Her phrasing gave him a sinking suspicion he knew how this story was going to end. But he kept his mouth shut.
"The guy's been part of the Diet since the 90s, right around when No-Good Tora shit the bed." Right. Yoshida's mistake. He said...twenty years ago? That definitely lined up. "Apparently, Shido learned from that whole scandal, got his act together. He's been squeaky clean since then, as far as we could find. But before that?" Ohya chuckled dryly. "We managed to track down a guy who claimed he saw Shido visiting, let's just say, a house of ill repute."
A house? Like, another politician or something? "Ill repute in what way?" Ren asked.
Ohya hesitated. "Ah right, you're a kid, you wouldn't know the euphemism. It was a brothel." Oh. Ren just nodded, feeling slightly sheepish for not catching the implication. "Took a little more digging, but we managed to piece together a pretty interesting little story. Shido didn't just drop by once or twice, he went weekly for half a year, right until that 'house' got shut down by police. And the same night cops raided the place, Shido was sighted in the same neighborhood escorting a woman into his car. And then the two of them showed up halfway across the precinct, right where Shido had purchased a small piece of cheap, pretty innocuous housing that week."
Ren blinked. "You're telling me Shido has some sort of secret girlfriend?" His stomach lurched at the implication, and he couldn't tell if it was the thought of the man actually loving another person, or just having that sort of relationship with someone he almost definitely had power over.
"Maybe," Ohya said. "We hit up that house, but it was long abandoned. Apparently, Shido paid for the thing but stopped visiting pretty quickly afterwards. The woman who lived there...took her own life, a few years after she moved in. And her son was thrown into a foster home; identity protected, we couldn't–"
"Wait," he said, a vague lightning burning across his spine, some sort of realization he hadn't finished making. "Hold on, back up. Her son?"
Ohya half-smirked across the table. "Yep. Her son. Ergo..."
Shido had a son. The fucking scumbag had...foster home. Why the fuck did that sound so familiar? Something...something...
"No way," Morgana whispered from inside his bag, sounding almost breathless. "It's him. His son, it's–"
"The adults at the foster homes I ended up in–"
"He left when I was first born, and my mother had to fend for herself. She couldn't manage it, but she gave me everything she could."
"–how irresponsible she was for having a child under such circumstances."
Ren felt cold. His gut churned like a furious ocean. The final piece clicked into place.
Akechi, the Persona-user in the Black Mask, wasn't just 'employed' by Masayoshi Shido.
He was causing mental shutdowns for his father.
"Like I said, the kid's identity was protected by the state," Ohya continued. "He'd probably be in high school now, but there wasn't any easy way for us to find out who he was. Still, that was enough for us. Shido's secret illegitimate son. People would have eaten it up." She pursed her lips. "I went that same week to try and sell it to a big-name publication. And when I was away...someone broke into our apartment, and Kayo was killed."
"I'm so sorry," Ren said, and his voice sounded empty in his own ears. He felt cosmically disconnected, untethered from reality. Morgana's purr radiating into the side of his leg. Come on, Ren. Focus.
"It wasn't random," Ohya said; firm, sudden. "It...it wasn't. I know it wasn't."
Even through the haze, Ren could connect the dots. "Shido killed her, because you were both looking into his past." It wasn't a question. Ohya shifted, almost a wince, a stifled flinch maybe.
"That's the idea," she said. Her tone was light, casual and fake. "So know that I'm coming from a very personal place when I say this." Her hazel eyes flared with some furious spark. "I don't care if he's behind the mental shutdowns or not. Whatever you need to do to take that guy down: I...am...in." Each word was its own oath, drenched in what must have been the same grief.
"Good," Ren said, the word slipping out of him before he could catch it. "Me and my friends will take a look. I'll try and keep you updated, but I might have to go a little radio silent if things get hairy." Ohya just nodded, an odd little guilt flitting across her expression. "Oh, and...I know you didn't ask for it, but we do have an arrangement. Info for info."
He'd almost forgotten to throw her the plastic fish, as crimson as all that blood on Shido's hands. The 'scoop' Ann had let slip to her gossipy model rival, the same fake rumor Mika would no doubt start spreading like a particularly persistent cough. "This isn't firsthand," Ren said. "But through the grapevine? Someone saw Goro Akechi spending a lot of time with a young woman from his class."
Ohya raised a silent eyebrow, the shadow of a smirk touching her lips. "I see."
"I don't have all the details," Ren continued, selling the lie with a shrug. "But the rumor goes that they heard him talking about running away together. Might just be bullshit, but if the guy really does end up absconding with some secret lover or something, might be helpful to have an article prepped." It was the best explanation they could come up with for the Second Prince's upcoming 'extended absence.' One that would hopefully catch on enough to keep certain people looking in all the wrong places for where their precious assassin might have ended up.
"Gotcha." Something odd flickered in her irises, like a laugh unvoiced. Did she buy it? "I'll write something basic tonight. I'd be an idiot not to pounce on a juicy story like that." And she winked. Hm. Well, at least if she knew he was lying, she was still playing along.
That'd be enough. It'd have to be.
Makoto
I h8 to ask, but does that change our plans?
Ren
Not that I can see
Worst case scenario, it's another piece of ammo against him
Something else to knock him off his game
Kasumi
Could we please try not to talk about Akechi like that?
I know you don't mean it in a mean way, but... :\
Ren
Sorry
I'll ease off a little, I promise
I shouldn't let my anger get in the way like that
Kasumi
Thank you. :)
Oh!
Did Ryuji tell you how our part of the plan went? :o
Ryuji
SHIT that's what i forgot lmao
Ann
Lmao.
Let me guess: no issues?
Kasumi
Yep! :D
My dad was cool with us taking a tour of the set.
And I didn't even notice Ryuji planting the listening device!
The whole thing made me feel like a real secret agent. B)
Futaba
Cool girl hours dgjhbnhj.
Haru
(⌐■_■)
Futaba
And I can confirm! Our little bug buddy is working perfectly.
When pretty boy stops by his dressing room tomorrow, we'll be able to listen in on him.
Ren
Sounds like everything's proceeding smoothly
Do you still have that back alley into Sae's computer?
Futaba
Backdoor, bro. And yep!
All thanks to our trusty advisor.
Haru
Makie really is a miracle worker, isn't she? (✿^∇^)
Makoto
I just did what Futaba told me 2.
USB stick thing is easy 2 use, actually.
Futaba
Well if you thought that was easy, I could always teach you how to code your own malware. ?
Makoto
I'm good thnx.
Ren
I think we're only waiting to hear back from Yusuke
Yusuke
Yes I am here hello.
Futaba
Speak of the Inari...
Yusuke
Mitsuru has very many questions and I am doing my best to answer all of them.
I am not sure how long I will be here.
But she has not disagreed with any of our requests.
Kasumi
Hang in there Yusuke!
You're doing an amazing job. :D
Yusuke
Thank you very much Kasumi but it is actually not bad here.
Naoto's husband has provided some absolutely delicious tea and he is currently baking cookies.
Ann
Lmao what? You're getting cookies?
Yusuke
Snickerdoodles.
Ryuji
I CALL TRADESIES WHAT THE FUCK
Ren
Haha sounds like you're in good hands
Make sure to get some rest though, don't stay too late
That goes for everyone
Don't forget, we've got one good shot at this
Tomorrow, we're putting an end to the mental shutdowns
10/10 – Monday
After School
Okumura's Palace
The gunshot was deafening, no comparison to the hollow crack of cognitive gunpowder. This was real. A sharp and acrid scent. An echo like the rumble of distant thunder. And his finger curled around metal, that trigger pressed as far down as it would go.
The pistol pointed upwards, discharged harmlessly towards that hollow Palace sky.
One bullet. Oxymoron's deadliest gift. Reduced to nothing more than a distraction.
It was oddly fitting.
"Don't move," Ren said, keeping his voice steady despite the way his arm shook from the recoil. He lowered the gun towards the young man's back, towards the Persona-user who was now frozen in place, stunned or shocked or somewhere in between. "Hands out of your jacket, please. Or the next one goes between your shoulder blades."
A pause. A hesitation. And that boy in the black mask slowly, carefully acquiesced, raising his hands up in a heavily exaggerated surrender. "You managed to get the slip on me," he said, voice cold and low. It wasn't even close to the voice he'd worn in reality. Even his most recent fury had been one notch removed from...this. This oblivion frigidity. "Are you planning on killing me? That hasn't seemed your style, Joker."
"Haven't decided," he lied. "On the one hand, you're right. Murder's been off the table for me up until now." He cocked the hammer on the pistol, watching Black Mask flinch at the sound. Maybe Ren should have been enjoying this. But he wasn't. His eyes just kept flitting back and forth between the very dangerous young man and that ephemeral Shadow – glowing and fading ever so slightly from view. Slowly, steadily. "But on the other hand, you're the one responsible for Wakaba Isshiki's death, aren't you?"
Black Mask laughed. An odd, strained sound. Maybe forced. Maybe involuntary. "The name rings a bell. But you can't expect me to remember every person I may or may not have killed."
"Oh, that's right," Ren fired back. He couldn't have bought into the goad even if he wanted to, he was far too anxious. His other hand curled around the plastic box in his jacket pocket. Come on Okumura, you ancient bastard, hurry the fuck up! "You've killed lots of people. All at the behest of that 'employer' of yours." Okumura's Shadow was primarily transparent now. Just a breath or two longer, come on. Black Mask was shifting ever so slightly, probably tensing to go for his gun. Okay, fuck it. "Does he know you're his son?"
The boy froze in place. "What–?" A genuine, mortified surprise across every syllable, like he'd dropped his role entirely. And the Shadow shimmered out of view.
Yes! The Palace shuddered, a cosmic earthquake that nearly knocked Ren off the catwalk; he was quick to recover, but Black Mask was quicker. That young man whirling, one hand in his jacket–
Ren clicked the switch on Futaba's Goho-M.
The snap of a pistol's safety being disengaged.
All of reality lurched abruptly to the right.
There was no gunshot. Those wild eyes blurred and vanished and the entire Palace was swallowed in a furious storm of black and red and blue and Ren gasped at air, fresh air! A hand against his back, like the world's loveliest anchor.
"Hey, you good?" Ryuji's voice, soft and worried.
Ren forced himself to nod, blinking as the universe still tumbled around him, colors swirling into abstract absurdity. "Mona...wasn't kidding," he managed. "I feel like I just stuck my head in a washing machine." He forced a laugh, trying to focus on the others. They were all back where they'd entered the Palace, in that same secluded area next to the Okumura Foods building. Speaking of the cat, he was currently rubbing up against Ren's leg, a fluffy presence.
"What hap-hap-happened in there?" Kasumi said. Her voice was so small, so hopeful.
Ren swallowed down a throat-full of bile and straightened up. "No hiccups. He didn't shoot anyone, and I didn't do anything to him other than piss him off." He could feel the Thieves deflate, even if he still couldn't quite see them clearly. "Uh, he knows we know that he's Shido's son now, but that's it."
"My father is still alive then," Haru said carefully. "That is...good."
Ren squinted at the young woman, willing his head to stop blurring his vision for long enough to confirm his girlfriend was alright. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You kicked ass in there, if you're running low–"
"Don't," she replied. A momentary chill, just an instant of sterness. Even compared to her usual warmth, it felt utterly harmless. Not toothless, but safe. "I'm alright, I promise. I'm not quite ready to put down my arms just yet." A little laugh escaped her. "Once we've finished our current business, I will allow myself to relax. But so long as you all are risking your lives, I don't see any reason to exempt myself."
"You can still lean on us if you need to," Makoto added. "We're here for you. I'm...here."
"Thank you, Makie." There was such a lovely smile in her voice. "That's very kind of you to say."
"Futaba," Ren said, lifting his glasses up to massage his eyes. "You said...you'd know when he left the Palace. Is that still true?"
"Mhm!" And he lowered his hand to see his sister tapping away on her phone. "And the second he does, he's gonna get a fun little surprise." Futaba held her cell up, grinning in that gremlinish way she so often did.
"Goro Akechi," came a heavily distorted voice from her phone. "This is Osiris, speaking on behalf of the Phantom Thieves. The blood on your hands is overflowing, and we have personally borne witness to the consequences of your crimes. If you tell your employer that we have interfered or contacted you, then we will expose you as the fraud you are. We are, however, amenable to speak with you regarding a...bargain. If you wish to discuss our terms, come alone to the realm known as Mementos. Do not keep us waiting."
10/10 – Monday
Evening
Mementos
There was a young man standing on the subway platform at the bottom of the escalator, something like a dozen feet from the Thieves. A cape. A pointed mask. Both...red? His outfit wasn't dark either, it was a white, with gold buttons and tasseled shoulders. The only ounce of dark in his entire outfit was his polished shoes. Everything else was crimson and pale and gilded. It wasn't the light, or some trick of perspective. That was not Black Mask.
"Ah, and there you are," Akechi said, his tone as bright and quick as it had always been. "I should have known you'd discover me sooner or later. Though, of course, I'm rather curious what crime it is that you think I am guilty of."
Ren stepped off the escalator, glancing back at the other Thieves, who looked just as confused as he felt. Mona's little nose scrunched up at the sight of the boy. "He smells," he said.
"I beg your pardon?" Akechi replied.
"You heard me," Mona said, glaring at the young man. "You smell."
A little awkward laugh escaped him. "Your little friend is quite the rude one, isn't he?"
"Dude," Skull said, shaking his head at Akechi. "Why the fuck do you look like that?"
Akechi reached up to adjust his cape. "You're not a fan? I suppose it doesn't exactly fit all of your...darker aesthetics." He chuckled. "But then again, I'm hardly a Phantom Thief, now am I?"
"Cut the bullshit," Panther snapped. "We already know you've been causing the mental shutdowns."
"The..." Akechi blinked at her, and then burst into surprised, inconsistent laughter. "You can't be serious, Miss Takamaki." Panther tensed at the name. "I'm a detective. I investigate murders, not commit them."
"Explain," Oracle said, quick and abrupt. "If you're not Black Mask, how did you know about this place?"
Rather than answer, he reached into his pocket – Ren flinched, a hand flitting towards his mask. But Akechi merely withdrew a cellphone, unlocking it and turning it around. "I found this odd app on my phone midway through June. I think you may know it." A red and black star on his cell screen. The familiar icon of the Metaverse Navigator. "After beginning my investigation into the Phantom Thieves, imagine my surprise to find myself in the possession of the very tool those Thieves used to change hearts. Though of course, I didn't know it had such a purpose at first. It took quite a while for me to be able to learn its full functionality, and the nature of this so-called Metaverse." Another little laugh. "As you can see, while I very nearly succumbed to the dangers of this world during one of my first outings, I did manage to awaken to that power you refer to as Persona. And from then on, I decided to...follow you all, in order to maintain my safety." Akechi tilted his head ever so slightly, smiling. "Better a coward than a corpse, no?"
"You've been spying on us?" Fox spluttered. "No, wait, that's...you've been causing mental shutdowns, why am I–"
"The man behind those atrocities is my target," Akechi insisted. "I have not decided whether to publicize my findings about you Thieves, but I..." He sighed, as if he was trying to articulate something difficult. "I cannot condone your actions. Even as I consider some of you my...my friends," his gaze lingered first on Ren, then on the silent Violet, "I believe that the forcible altering of cognition is akin to a psychological assault." Another long breath. "However: this does not mean you are in any way comparable to the mass murderer currently running rampant through the Metaverse." He stared at the Thieves, his gaze careful, firm. "We are on the same side, you and I. We both wish for those acts to cease."
Violet swallowed, a little shuddering breath escaping her. "Did we get this wrong?" she asked, her voice small and hollow. "Were we mist-mistaken?"
"There was no room for ambiguity in the parcel letter," Noir replied, shaking her head. "And I trust Joker's judgement. If he believes..." And she trailed off, glancing towards Ren. A silent question, her hesitance clear.
"Could there be–" Queen began, then cut herself off. "There has to be something we're missing here."
The small space erupted into murmuring conversation, confusion, but Ren's gaze, his every ounce of focus, lingered on Akechi. The young man merely watched them all, seeming content to simply wait on them to figure things out amongst themselves. As if the outcome held no consequence for him. Almost as if...
"He's stalling," Ren said. All conversation stopped. Akechi's expression emptied. Not anger, or disappointment, or frustration. Void. "Oracle, run a scan. Wide-area, check our surroundings."
"Uh, sure, yeah," Oracle said, swiping her hand over the air, pulling up one of those screens only she could see. And then she went stiff. All color drained from her face. Without a word, she whirled around, staring up towards the escalator back out of Mementos with a haunted expression. Ren immediately followed her gaze, and felt his stomach drop out from under him.
The light in the tunnel up towards the entrance was flickering. And under those inconsistent bulbs, dark flesh writhed. Demonic faces, red and blue skin alike, each with too many mouths gnashing teeth and twice as many glowing yellow eyes. Shadows, maybe dozens of them. He didn't need Oracle's sight to know how strong they were, infinitely more dangerous than should ever have been found in such shallow waters.
"And that would be my cue." That low, dangerous voice again, sharper than a blade, darker than pitch. Ren turned back to see Akechi pull a small box from his pocket, emanating a sickly golden light across his white gloves. "I hope you have fun with your new friends." He paused, an odd hesitation across his frigid features. "It's not personal, Kasumi. I promise you that. I am..." He pursed his lips. "Farewell." And in one smooth motion, he tossed the box towards the Thieves, turned, and vaulted over the subway railing.
"Wait!" Ren surged towards the side, but backpedaled as a pair of inhuman claws grabbed onto the railing. Another Shadow, more teeth than body, hoisting itself slowly up onto the platform. And it wasn't alone, there were nearly six of them climbing up from the train tracks below. And past them, Ren could see Akechi running, rapidly slipping out of view.
"Where the fuck did all these guys come from!?" Skull yelped, grabbing his shotgun with unsteady hands, nearly dropping the firearm.
"That smell from earlier!" Mona rushed over to the box, covering his nose with one paw. "It's this thing! It must be some kinda...Shadow lure, or something!"
"Can you shut it off?" Fox asked.
Panther growled out a vague curse and her mask shattered. "Mona, out of the way." The cat dove to the side as Panther pointed her hand towards the box. "Carmen!" She closed her fingers, and a burst of azure flame engulfed the lure, igniting the tiny thing in a proper bonfire.
Ren bit back a shudder, staring across the flame at his allies, his friends, surrounded on all sides. And it was Violet who met his gaze. She looked away for a moment, her hesitation clear, then her brow furrowed, hands curled into fists by her sides. "Joker," she said. Her near-crimson eyes met his. "Go get him."
"We'll hold things down here," Queen added, her right hand pulsing with warbling cerulean magic. "We can take care of ourselves."
Oracle snapped her mask onto her forehead. "Kick his ass," she said simply, before pulling it back down and furiously typing at nothing.
Right. They could handle this. They'd prepared just as much as him. They were trusting Ren.
Now he had to trust them back.
Ren turned towards the advancing Shadow, its claws outstretched towards him, saliva dripping onto the subway platform. "Arsene," he said. A simple beckoning, nothing more than was needed, and the gentleman thief's blade sung in an instant. One second, a Shadow. The next, black dust. And Ren moved before his mask caught up with him, vaulting over the railing, letting the shock of the ground pulse through him for less than an instant before he was running again, before the sound of harmonious violence faded behind him.
The truth of Akechi's intent took a while to sink in. It was only when Ren saw the young man waiting for him, standing in the center of an empty subway intersection, that he realized the purpose behind his earlier retreat. "You guessed that I'd follow you on my own, didn't you?" Ren asked, slowing his pace until he too was simply standing there, something like ten feet in front of the young man. "Kind of a gambit. What if I'd stayed behind?"
"Then you would have died with your allies," Akechi said, simply. "That would have been an unsatisfactory conclusion for me, but it would nevertheless solve this particular issue."
"That issue being me, I'm guessing," Ren said, choosing to ignore his momentary pang of anxiety. His friends were fine. They could handle themselves.
Akechi chuckled, low and...somehow, honest. "Yes. That's exactly it, Amamiya. You are a thorn in my side and I aim to extract you." He glared at Ren, a little furious breath leaving him. "Do you have any idea how insufferable you are? How agonizing it is to be near you as you spew that simpering righteousness with every word?" He threw up hand in a half-body shrug, snarling out a laugh. "As if your justice could ever amount to anything more than petty revenge. You're all simply common thugs, trying to change the world by force."
Ren breathed in. He breathed out. It stung, but it was all too hollow to hurt. Sharp and empty, dispute without follow-through, sermons without belief. "Why are you allying with Shido?" he asked. "I know he's your father, but you said yourself back then. He's the reason your mother–"
"Shut your fucking mouth!" Akechi spat. "Don't you dare talk about her. You don't know shit. Not about her, not about him, and not about me."
"Then tell me!" Ren fired back. "Even if it's all been a lie, even if we're not friends, we're...aren't we still rivals?" His eyes stung, and he bit back the feeling, letting his anger boil to the forefront. "Don't I deserve some fucking truth from you, for once?"
Akechi opened his mouth again, eyes flaring dark, but he seemed to catch himself. "I don't know how you found out, but you are correct: Masayoshi Shido is indeed my father." A wide, manic grin spread across his lips. "But you're more of a fool than I ever imagined if you honestly believe I consider that piece of garbage my ally." A laugh escaped through his teeth, a broken tone in an off-key melody. "I have obeyed his orders with the sole aim of winning his trust. Shido is a cautious man, after all, he wouldn't have let his guard down otherwise." Akechi ran a hand back through his hair, another giggle pulsing through him like lightning. "And once he acknowledges me as his ally, once he finally considers me a proper confidant, then I'm going to tell him exactly who I am, and put a bullet between his eyes!"
Who he was... "He doesn't know you're his son," Ren concluded. "Fuck. Akechi, you're...for fuck's sake, what the hell!?" For all the young man had done, for every lie and every drop of blood, that was what broke Ren's stoicism. He'd do the same for any other friend who'd stuck themselves in a fatal spiral. But...they weren't friends, right? They weren't supposed to be, a friendship built on lies isn't one at all. Then why did Ren still feel so fucking angry!? "You know what'll happen if he finds out."
"Oh, I have no doubt he'll kill me," Akechi said, as if it were nothing. "Even if I succeed, I recognize that success will come at the price of my own life." He adjusted his gloves, almost massaging his wrists. As if there was something there that itched at his skin. "I have known this since the second I set out on this path."
Ren grit his teeth. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his knife, drawing it slowly from its sheath. "Yeah, no. I'm not about to let you do that."
Akechi chuckled, a perhaps legitimate bit of amusement. "I'd like to see you stop me." And his hand went to his mask. "Robin Hood!" A burst of crimson fragments bathed in azure flame. And a bowstring was drawn taut.
Ren dove to the side as the arrow slammed into the ground he'd occupied a second earlier. A quick glance as he steadied himself showed a Persona that perfectly matched Akechi's outfit. Like an American superhero, or some sort of Phoenix Ranger, whites and blacks, red and blue and golden highlights, a long flowing cape and a massive gold bow in one hand. That...was that really the Persona he'd pulled out against Ren before, back in Kaneshiro's Palace? Only one way to find out. "Red Rider!" The horseman's blade raised high, swirling with violet energy–
Akechi's grin widened, sweeping his hand up, Robin Hood echoing the motion. And something glowed between the train tracks.
"Check." A chuckle, his hand leaving the board. "Shall we move on to the next game?"
Radiance erupted from beneath Ren. Red Rider shattered with a wheezing cry. He threw himself backwards, stumbling out of the blow, gasping at breath. His mask reformed. Shit. Okay, that was not Curse magic. Bless? Could he use both or was it something–
Light caught off glowing blue, and Ren's arm leapt up on instinct. A jarring blow against his clumsy guard, shoving him yet again backwards, almost tripping over his own feet.
"You're pathetic!" Akechi said, his voice high and gleeful, a glowing azure saber in one hand. "This is the leader of the Phantom Thieves? You're supposed to be my rival!?" A giddy laugh bubbled out of the young man. "Come on, Joker. Give me something to sink my teeth into!"
Okay. Ren adjusted his grip on his knife. This guy wanted tricks? His offhand went to his mask, and Akechi matched the motion.
"I'm not out of moves yet." Ren studied the board. Despite the dire situation, he couldn't help but smile. There was something almost addicting about the insurmountable challenge, about testing his will against someone as utterly capable of outsmarting him as Akechi. Someone as safe as the toothless Prince.
"Robin Hood!"
"Dakini!"
Two masks shattered. And two blades slammed against Robin's bow, azure sparks from the furious friction. Akechi grit his teeth. Ren tasted metal. The divine dancer pushed back the merry man, those twin sabers catching Mementos' awful light. Another surge of brilliance, some sort of breathless command, Robin Hood slinging a burst of radiance towards Ren's Persona.
"Take him down." And Dakini spun forward, taking the spell full on, resisting just long enough to bring her blades across the thief's chest. Akechi choked out a curse as his Persona shattered. Ren similarly wheezed, his chest aching, Dakini fading. A momentary lapse as they both stumbled. Ren forced himself forward, forced breath into his lungs and a spin to the grip on his knife and a spring into his newfound step. He closed the distance.
"Shit–" Akechi reached into his pocket with his left hand, lashing out blindly with the saber. Ren stutter-stepped, stalling his pace just long enough to slip between the blows, grabbing Akechi's left arm and bringing the knife up, parallel to the Prince's throat. And he felt the point of the luminous saber pressing into his chest.
"You aim to prolong this game, then?" Akechi chuckled. "What point does that serve you? You've never beaten me before, and I doubt you will be able to discover your first victory here."
No one moved. Ren barely breathed, his mask forming back onto his face. Anachronism's blade shuddered inches from Akechi's throat. The saber aimed towards his heart was steadier, but equally still.
"Coward," Akechi said. His eyes dark. His teeth bared. "That is the difference between you and I. You're not willing to kill, not even to save your own life." A wild grin. "Not even to stop those mental shutdowns you loathe so much."
"If the only difference between us is that I'm not a fucking murderer," Ren spat, the fury in his gut threatening to boil over. "Then what is that supposed to prove to me?" His hand tightened around Akechi's arm. "I'd rather be a coward than alone. I know that about myself. When push comes to shove, I've chosen cowardice every single time." His eyes bored into Akechi's, the detective blinking quickly. "I know where that kind of bravery leads. And for what it's worth, if courage is gonna kill you, then read my fucking lips Akechi: I am going to make you flinch." He shoved Akechi backwards, widening the distance between them, two blades in mirrored retreat. "Count on it."
"If I give up, I don't learn anything." Ren shifted his king to the side. "Besides, this is fun for me." A desperate maneuver, but the best he had. Already doing his best to think two steps ahead, even as Akechi no doubt planned for three. "Isn't it fun for you? I mean, all that protest, but you're still smiling."
"Shut up," Akechi said. A furious breath, and he ran his hand back through his hair. "You...you're nothing. You don't know anything. You don't know me, Amamiya! I've lied to you this whole fucking time, and you're still trying to save someone who doesn't exist!?"
"I'm trying to save you," Ren said. He spun his knife back upright. "If I need to get to know you along the way, I will. But you still need to be alive for that."
Akechi stared at him, head slightly tilted. An incredulous little chuckle leaving him. "Oh, I see. Pity, is it? You'd rather die by my hands than drop that little messiah complex." He reached up, fingertips against his crimson mask. And he paused. Hesitating.
Silence. Neither of the two of them moved.
"I hate you," Akechi said, finally. "I hate everything about you. I've spent the last two years cultivating my image, working myself ragged to ace every class, to astound every audience. I've endeared myself to the public and the police and Masayoshi fucking Shido himself." He jabbed a thumb into his own chest, eyes wide and desperate and furious and panicked. "I'm a celebrity! I'm the second Detective Prince! People are so desperate to hear my opinions that they don't even care if they're fake, if I'm fake! So how..." He grabbed at his mask with one hand, like it was stuck to his face, dragging his fingers down the crimson material. "You're trash! You're a felon living in a fucking attic! So how does someone like you have something I don't!?"
Something he didn't. The smell of his dad's coffee. His sister's mischievous giggle. His friends filling the attic with light and life and laughter. A hand in his. "I don't know," Ren said. He glanced down at Anachronism's knife, at that silver blade gleaming in Memento's dim glow. "I was in the right place for once. I'm not special, I'm just lucky." He sheathed the dagger, staring at Akechi. His empty hands by his sides. "I'm not better than you. I don't want to be better than you. I just want to help you."
"Don't give me that cliche bullshit," Akechi snarled. "To hell with your friendship! Where the fuck do you get off spewing that childish garbage!?"
"Yeah, sure, fuck me for trying," Ren fired back. "I know you're a liar and a killer, I know you're working for a man I hate, but when I look at you, I still see my friend!" A shudder burned through his lungs. "There's so much going on, Akechi. It's bigger than you, bigger than any of us. I want...I need your help!" He reached into his pocket, pulling out Oxymoron's gun. Empty. Harmless. And he threw it to the side, the firearm skittering across the tracks with a resonant clatter.
Akechi stared off at the gun, still, silent. "This really is a first," he said. There was something cold in his voice, a hint of bitter laughter. "For once in my life, I've found someone worth the effort it takes to crush them. Someone I don't feel guilty beating to a pulp." He turned back to Ren, a grin catching the corners of his lips. "You've been holding back too, haven't you? You haven't called on your trump card." He straightened up, sheathing his saber. "I'll force Arsene out of you. And then? Then I'll kill you. But first..." Akechi laughed, a sound that seemed almost dragged out of him, back bent by mirth. "I'll give you what you want. I'll show you who I really am." He grabbed his mask, eyes wide and wild. "Come. Loki!"
It wasn't just his mask that shattered. Dark pooled around his feet, sweeping up over that white and gold costume. Like pitch dust, shadow ichor, swarming across his outfit. A black mask settling on his features, sharp, with horns and a near beak, and red visors obscuring his eyes. Ren took a step backwards, blinking at the sight. He had two costumes? Some sort of illusion, or...
Loki.
Ren's eyes flicked upwards, at the ethereal trickster hovering behind Akechi, behind Black Mask. A horned deity, covered in shifting monochrome patterns. A quintet of braids from his dark scalp, horns where there should be eyes, and a massive red blade suspended beneath him. The Persona sat atop that sword's hilt like a throne, his legs crossed, lounging, his chin in one hand.
"Friends? Rivals?" Akechi shuddered out a laugh, grabbing at that black mask with gloves like claws, like talons. "Keep that shit to yourself! I'm going to tear you apart with my own two hands, and I'm going to revel in it." He grabbed at his sword again, yanking it out of its sheath. No longer an azure saber, but a vicious blade, a jagged sword as crimson as his eyes. "I'll drag your fucking corpse back to those precious friends of yours, and then I'll slaughter what's left of them too! Now then, Joker." His mask splintered and cracked. "Go down with me!"
Loki gestured out a silent command, and that ethereal blade shot forward, straight towards Ren.
"I don't think I could ever bring myself to pull that sort of power out against another person."
"Arsene Dusk." And the gentleman thief caught the blade. Talons curled around the hilt, halting it in midair, straining to keep the hungering blade from its target. "Sorry. I didn't come this far to die here."
Akechi blinked. Arsene threw the sword back to Loki with a grunt of effort. "As one trickster to another," Arsene said, Lupin's voice echoing out from the ethereal form. "I'll give you what you want." He grabbed his cane, unsheathing the blade from within. "I won't hold back. If you think yourself better, then show me!" Those black wings spread wide.
Akechi's eye twitched even as his grin widened. "Don't fucking mock me!" He dove forwards, Loki echoing the motion, two blades sweeping out towards their target. A heat shimmer swarmed around the detective, obscuring him, warping his pace into an impenetrable surge.
Ren reached into his bag, his hand slipping into a precise pocket. One good trick deserved another. And he yanked out a small spherical explosive, flicking out the pin and covering his eyes with his other hand. "Catch." And he tossed it across the distance.
Even as ramshackle as it was with Ren's probably shoddy construction, a flash bomb was still a flash bomb. And it did the trick. Ren could see the brilliance through his fingers, through his eyelids, along with a thunderous clap of noise that rattled his teeth. Like an exploding sun, a cognitive supernova.
Ren lowered his hand, his ears still ringing. Through the blur, he caught the sight of Akechi stumbling backwards, off-kilter. Loki was motioness, stalling in midair, his motions stilted. Ren bit the inside of his cheek until the taste of his own blood sharpened his senses. "Lupin, now!"
Bloodlust echoed through that chain binding them together. "Checkmate." A glint. A quick and solitary flash of steel. The momentary resistance of dark flesh giving way.
Even through Loki's wavering, the deity's sword seemed aware enough to jolt through the air. Arsene recoiled, one hand up to grab the blade again, cursed metal screeching against his talons. Ren felt the impact. The razor point colliding with Arsene's chest, knocking the air from them both.
Both Personas were motionless. Dark ichor dripped down Loki's chin from the cut across his face. Arsene grit his phantom teeth at the blade piercing less than an inch into his chest.
Loki's form splintered. A single crack, and a breath later both he and the sword fragmented into a thousand splinters as Akechi screamed out a single note, laden through with fury and agony.
Black Mask shuddered. Stumbled in place. And then dropped to his knees, wheezing out a string of curses, doubled over in helpless rage. "I'll kill you," he spat, talons digging into the dirt. "I'll fucking...kill you. I'll tear your heart out. I..." He shook with anger, with laughter. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you." And the threat echoed across the walls of Mementos like the hollow thing it was.
Ren's mask reformed as Arsene faded from view. His chest still ached, both from shallow breaths and the cognitive injury. He took an uneasy step forward, then another. A struggle, but a possible one. Until he was standing above the prone Akechi, staring down at him. "Is that what Freya would want?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
Akechi froze. Not even a shudder passed through him. He was frigid, and stiff.
"That's your mom's name, isn't it? Freya?" Ren took a deep breath in, reaching up to spin a lock of hair between gloved fingers. "You said you wanted people to know her, to remember her. I don't think you were lying then. You want to get your own revenge on Shido, but I'm guessing it's for her sake too." He swallowed hard. "Do you think she'd want that? To be remembered as the mother of a murderer?"
"How...did you hear that name?" Akechi said, slowly pushing himself back up, struggling and shuddering, leaning on his jaggedsword for balance. "Where the fuck did you hear that name!?"
"You told it to me," Ren replied. And here came the even harder sell. "This isn't the first time this year has played out. It's happened over and over, because there's a witch named Oxymoron who keeps turning back time. And the last time this happened, you sent me this." Ren reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out the letter. He handed it to Akechi with an unsteady hand.
The boy didn't even look, blindly snatching the paper and unfolding it with frantic fingers. His eyes silently scanned the words through those red-tinted visors.
"In that world, for whatever reason, you trusted me. Enough to tell me her name, at least." Ren took a deep breath. "We're on the same side, Akechi. We want the same thing. We both want Shido to pay for what he's done, and we want that choice to mean something, not just get erased."
"Why?" Akechi asked, still staring down at the letter. "Why the fuck do you care about Shido so much?" A bitter laugh. "Are you really just that much of a bleeding heart for Sakura's plight?"
"It's not about Futaba." Ren reached down, grabbing hold of his left glove. "It's about me. Cause Shido is the guy who did this to me." And he pulled off the glove, tilting his hand. That scar as clear as it had ever been, that line of pale raised skin against the natural wrinkle of his wrist. "He framed me for assault. He put me in juvie when I was fourteen." Ren felt steady, empty, firm. This was mortifying. And it was absolutely the right thing to do. "He's the reason I tried to kill myself last year."
Akechi gazed at the scar. Then back to the letter. He slowly, unsteadily, sheathed his sword "You want me to join you because you want revenge on my bastard of a father, want me to throw away ten years of preparation to murder him, all because a time traveler gave you a letter from a future version of me." His talon-like gloves clenched the paper so tight that the letter buckled.
"I want you to join me because I care about you," Ren said. "I mean, yes, to all of that, but it's also because I don't want you to die." He shrugged, an odd smile settling on his face. "I know it doesn't matter to you. That's fine. I trust you, and you don't trust me."
Akechi shifted in place. Was that guilt that dragged the detective's gaze to the side? No, probably not. Ren was just seeing what he wanted to see.
"You should join me because I know what I'm doing," he continued. "Because I can help you get out of this alive, and because there's gonna be a place for you when you do. You should join me because I'm useful to you." He held out a hand, praying with every atom in his entire body, every thought and breath. "Please, Akechi."
The Prince didn't say a word, not for the longest time. "I do not know any way this letter could exist," he said, finally. "Time travel is as logical an explanation as any. Unless, perhaps, you've found some way to read my mind." He paused, shaking his head. "No. If you had, you would know what that name means. You would not have to guess." What that name meant? Was there something else Ren had missed?
Akechi grit his teeth. "You're right: I don't trust you. I can't trust you. You're a self-righteous piece of shit, and you'd sooner throw yourself to the wolves than accept you couldn't save my life." Phrasing aside...Ren couldn't find it in himself to disagree. Akechi glanced back down at the letter, carefully undoing its creases, loosening his grip. His gaze flicked up towards Ren, red eyes behind red visors. "Amamiya. Do you plan on stopping me from killing Shido?"
Ren bit back a shudder. "That's not up to me. The Thieves don't make decisions like that without unanimous agreement." A hesitation caressed his spine. "But...if it were up to me. I wouldn't stop you." He grit his teeth. "I've been considering putting a bullet in his head myself, if I get the chance. And not for you, or Futaba. For me." A little laugh pierced him like a dagger. "Turnabout is fair play. I almost died because of him, it's only right that I return the favor."
Akechi seemed to consider that. He carefully folded the letter back up, slipping it into his pocket. "I'll be keeping this," he said, and blinked, as if his own words had caught him by surprise. Akechi took hold of his right wrist, massaging it, talons catching on the fabric. "You have a plan that brings Shido to his knees, while we both survive." It wasn't really a question, but Ren nodded anyway. "I see."
Akechi shook his head, growling out a sigh. "If you really do know the future, then I'd be an idiot not to accept your assistance. However, I will not obey you. On principle alone, I can't trust that you won't do something moronic with that knowledge. I refuse to surrender my autonomy to someone like you, Amamiya."
Ren had kind of figured as much, but it still stung. "Right. So then, what? Back to fighting–"
Akechi held up a finger, silencing him. "I will give you a chance to convince me. And if you manage to do so..." A deep breath, another frustrated sound. "If ceasing the mental shutdowns will grant me amnesty from both your justice and incarceration, consider it done. As long as you have some other way of getting me close enough to kill Shido, then I have no reason to continue cooperating with his demands." His eyes were sharp, narrow. A detective's piercing gaze. "Do you?"
"That's the idea," Ren said. "You'll still have to work with us, and maybe keep playing along with Shido, but we'll keep you safe. You won't have to hurt anyone, and we'll still take him down."
Akechi nodded, slowly. He didn't say a word, not for a long few seconds. "Alright," he said. "In that case, I'll cooperate." The barest ghost of a smirk. "Fill me in, Joker."
A ton of thanks to Jane for beta reading this chapter, and being patient with me as I took forever to write it. And shout out to her rewrite of Justice 8: Picking at Scabs, which inspired a ton of the last scene (alongside the canon showdown in Shido's Palace).
