CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains references to parental abuse, implied sexual abuse, suicide, police brutality, threats of strangulation and starvation. While not graphic, this content still may be difficult or upsetting to read, so please take breaks or skip sections as needed. Stay safe.
10/10 – Monday
Evening
Mementos
"So uh," Ren said, glancing towards his pitch-clad companion. "Does this all make sense so far?"
The detective had, surprisingly, kept his questions fairly minimal, merely listening to Ren's rambling explanations throughout the steady walk back towards the shallows of Mementos. "No," he said, bluntly. "Every ounce of this is absurd, fantastical gibberish." And he reached down with a talon-gloved hand, brushing it against the side of his outfit, where he'd stored the letter. "If you hadn't already provided physical proof, I'd have long since disregarded this...charade at its mere premise."
"Okay," Ren replied, feeling a little spark of irritation rising up into his throat. "But you have proof, and I'm not lying to you, so I'm asking if you have any fucking questions, so we can make sure we're actually on the same page here, Akechi."
The Prince scoffed. "Fine. You said this...Yaldabaoth figure proclaimed me as his proxy in some sort of asinine game." His eyes were sharp behind those crimson visors. "Assuming that entity is the origin of my powers, what exactly is responsible for the development of yours?"
Ren blinked. "Uh." He scratched at his chin, stepping carefully over a particularly uneven piece of track. "I'm guessing Igor? That missing guy Lavenza calls her master. I mean, I don't know for sure, but it'd make the most sense. She's supposed to help me use the Wild Card, so it stands to reason that someone connected to the Velvet Room would be responsible."
"Another self-appointed idol of worship then," Akechi said, his tone evenly split between bitterness and amusement. "And I'm assuming you refused to place any degree of pressure upon that so-called Attendant regarding the identity of the witch currently acting as ascendant puppeteer?"
"I'm not about to threaten a fucking child," Ren snapped. "I don't see what it changes, anyway. No matter who Oxymoron is, she's a time traveler from another iteration of this world, she's not from here. We've still got the same priorities even if she's some future-past version of someone we know."
"You don't see what it changes because you haven't seen the fullness of the situation," Akechi fired back, quick and cool. "And for all your talk of friends and bonds, can you truly not come up with a single method of convincing a young girl to divulge something without resorting to violence? If she really is your friend..." The two of them turned the corner, and Akechi trailed off.
The subway platform they'd left behind was devoid of Shadows now. But it was full of people. The Thieves were all reclining against the rightmost wall at the end of the tracks, looking a little worse for wear but unharmed – and the sight immediately flooded him with unshakable relief. And then the others, wearing some variant of a black suit of that same flexible metallic material. Ken Amada, giving some bellyrubs to Koromaru Junior, who was wearing a doggy vest and receiving an unbreakable stink-eye from Mona. Aigis, the only one not in uniform, performing some sort of scan on Fox's arm as the young man sat cross-legged in front of her. Junpei Iori, vigorously explaining something to a visibly uninterested Skull and Panther. Yukiko and Chie, in much more welcome-looking conversation with Noir and Violet respectively, the latter holding tight to Oracle, who had the biggest gayest grin on her face. Fuuka Yamagishi, who was standing nearby the Thieves without engaging with any of them, seeming content to simply rock back and forth in place. And Yu Narukami, who threw up a hand in greeting when he caught sight of Ren.
"Yo!" Yu called. And all eyes turned towards both Thief and Prince.
The Thieves all surged to their feet, Akechi tensing immediately, but Ren threw up his hands in a 'hold on' gesture. "Don't do anything stupid," he muttered to the nearby detective, before raising his voice so the others could hear him. "It's all good! No one's hurt, Akechi's...he's gonna give us a chance to explain our plan." His friends seemed to relax somewhat, though quite a few cold looks made their way across the distance. Queen in particular shifted slightly closer to the edge of the group, positioning herself almost between the Thieves and the target of their very justified anger.
"Glad you were able to work things out," Yu said, calm and casual. But his eyes were still locked on the detective. One hand resting casually on the hilt of a sheathed sword at his belt.
"Um," Ken said, his smile slightly skewed. "How does that work with the whole, like..." He drew a box in the air with both hands, Junior letting out a little whine at her tummy pats being momentarily put on hold.
Ren grimaced as Akechi turned towards him, eyes narrow and brow furrowed. "Haven't gotten to that part yet. I kinda hoped one of you guys would explain it better."
"Oh lovely," Akechi said, his voice a steady, bitter growl. "More complications, then? Another set of conditions to accompany my assistance?"
"You sure this guy's on our side?" Junpei asked, raising an eyebrow at the young man. "I mean, not that I'm holding a grudge, but he seems kinda..." He raised his hands into faux-claws, miming at a predator's aggression, and half the room threw a sharp glare his way, Ren included.
Akechi's gaze snapped towards Junpei, and a strained smile settled on his lips. "How's your shoulder?" he asked, his voice low, mocking, almost laughing through the words.
Junpei snorted out an awkward chuckle, but Aigis cut in before he could say anything. "Junpei, as I recall, you already voted to cooperate fully with the Phantom Thieves without enforcing any alteration to their plan. If you wish to raise a dissension–"
"Alright, alright, I get it," Junpei grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "No dissension. Jeez, give a guy a break."
"You'd get a lot more if you didn't keep acting like a dipshit, dude," Chie said, in a dry deadpan.
"Chie," Yukiko said, a kind scolding. "Don't forget, he's our elder."
"That's right!" Junpei added with a triumphant smirk.
"So it's 'Mister Dude' who's acting like a dipshit," she continued, barely able to hold in her giggles. Junpei's smirk vanished in an instant, and Chie broke out in a huge grin just as quickly.
Fuuka made her steady way over to Ren and Akechi, holding her hand out to the latter. "Phone please," she said.
The black-masked boy stared at her, clearly incredulous. A belt of quick, impulsive laughter escaped him. "Absolutely not. Not until someone here explains who you people are and what the fuck you want from me."
"Our organization is known as the Shadow Response Unit," echoed a voice from the platform above the tracks. Ren glanced up to see a woman with a dark coat and a mane of long red hair standing behind the railing. A rapier sheathed on her left hip and what looked to be another one of those weird silver pistols holstered on her right. "My name is Mitsuru Kirijo, and I am both the head of the SRU and its primary source of funding. We are a group of highly experienced Persona-users acting independently in order to seek out and eliminate supernatural entities that pose a threat to humankind."
"Quite an entrance for a businesswoman," Akechi replied, dryly, his posture tense; the picturesque image of a cornered animal, as if he was an instant away from bolting back into the depths of Mementos and vanishing forever. "And that yet leaves the question: why are you here, and why is your..." He gestured aggressively and silently to Fuuka, who flinched backwards. "Accosting me for my belongings?"
"Akechi–" Ren warned.
"Shut up," he spat, fingers tensing by his sides. "I've heard enough of your asinine spiels."
"Goro Akechi," Mitsuru said, her voice low and steady and travelling farther than its volume, the young man flinching at the sound of his own name. "According to what I have been told, the Phantom Thieves are putting their faith in you to take responsibility for the mental shutdowns you have commited." Akechi was stiff, tense, unmoving. "I have been asked to provide the resources required to keep you hidden from your employer, as well as assist you alongside the Thieves in taking steps towards changing his heart. The former I am more than happy to do, but the latter...requires a degree of trust that you have not, at this moment, earned." She nodded towards Ren. "I trust Amamiya and his friends as much as any of my Operatives. But even if they were to unequivocally vouch for you, I still need to evaluate whether you are a risk worth taking."
Akechi didn't say a word. Not for a while. He slowly, deliberately, reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, handing it to a still skittish Fuuka. His other hand, with the same slow movement, extracted a pistol from between the folds of his outfit and handed it to Ren. "Is that satisfactory?" he asked, his voice empty.
Mitsuru studied the young man from on high. "It's a start."
Akechi's pistol was an eerily perfect echo of the one Ren had discarded a short while earlier, the same make and model, the same customized slide. And that somehow made the parcel more haunting, the fact that Oxymoron had sent him an echo of the gun that no doubt caused any number of mental shutdowns. Ren made sure to empty the magazine, tossing the bullets into a nearby trash can before stowing the pistol in his bag.
It wasn't a far walk at all, but it felt like a fucking prisoner escort and that made it all the more uncomfortably long. Akechi was up near the front, given a careful berth by Aigis behind him and Chie in front. The other Shadow Operatives were scattered throughout the loose formation – Ken and Fuuka taking point with Mitsuru, Yukiko trailing behind Aigis, and Junpei walking with Junior behind the Thieves.
"She keeps looking at me," Mona whined, shifting in Skull's grip and staring over the young man's shoulder at their canine follower, who kept hopping around from one side of the tracks to the other like she was playing the world's longest game of doggy hopscotch.
"I bet it's just cause she's never seen someone as cool as you before," Skull reassured, hefting the cat carefully, as if Mona was nothing more than a large fluffy baby.
"I read somewhere that some dogs see cats as funny-smelling puppies," Queen added with a little smile. "Maybe she just wants to say hi to you."
"She's the funny-smelling one," Mona grumbled, sinking further into Skull's arms.
Ren's thoughts drifted, and so did he, steering slightly away from the group little by little until he was almost hugging the right wall. Something about even the quiet sounds of those people he loved, of those people who loved him, felt...sharp, somehow. Like the contrast of the universe had been dialed up far too high.
Footsteps at a diagonal pace, and Panther slipped in sync next to him. "Hey," she said.
"Hey," he replied, the word leaving him quieter than he'd intended. "Sorry. I know I'm kinda..." He gestured at nothing. "I mean, being a shitty leader right now and all. This is–"
"Ren," she said, firm and yet caring, almost loving. "No one's upset with you, and...I mean, you're spinning kind of a fuck-ton of plates right now. We all know that. You've told us about every single one." He could almost hear a 'finally' at the end of that sentence, or a space for one, but if Panther felt it then she didn't voice it. "So, take it easy on yourself, okay?"
Ren nodded. "Yeah. I'll try." He took a deep breath in and out. "Thank you. I think I'm still reeling." He shook his head. "I mean, I guess it's kinda weird how heavy this is all hitting me."
She raised an eyebrow. "Why would it be weird? You found out two days ago your friend was an assassin working for–" Panther cut herself off, and Ren gave her a little grateful smile for that bit of self-control. "And besides, you're digging around in old scars here. His and yours." Panther chuckled. "You've dealt with more problems than this before on your own, sure, but all of those problems were someone else's. None of them were yours."
"I guess so," Ren said. They'd finally made it to the end of the tracks now, and he slowed his pace slightly to stay behind the others as they tightened their ranks, heading up the stairs to the platform, and past it, the escalator out of this place. "It's just weird cause, even despite all that, this is like...the easiest it's ever been. I never would have been able to pull something like this off a few months back, especially not in two days like we did."
"Benefits of experience?" Panther teased.
"Benefits of trust, more like." He laughed, reaching up to twist a strand of hair between his fingers, still careful to keep one eye on the tiles under his feet. "Even if I'd just had to handle my parts on my own, or with just me and Mona keeping track of everything...I still think I'd have slipped up somewhere. But knowing you all were helping too, being able to put my faith in you and just focus on not letting you down...that helped. That helped a lot, I think." He paused as they made it onto the escalator. "Honestly, if you hadn't...back then, in May, if you hadn't confronted me. I'd probably have just kept bouncing around my own head for months." His hands clenched in his pockets. "I'd have turned out just like Anachronism. Or worse, maybe. So, I'm grateful. I'm like...insanely thankful that I have someone like you keeping me to task."
Panther didn't say a word, not until they were almost halfway up the escalator. "That night, when I was just kinda sitting there, waiting for you, you know what was on my mind?" A little laugh slipped out between her breaths. "I mean, I was mad at you, but I was...I just kept thinking about how freaked out you were after pulling out Arsene Dusk, how you kept bouncing back and forth between the warmest guy I've ever met and this utter skittish mess, and how like..." She pursed her lips. "It looked like you wanted to stop pretending to be strong. Like I could feel that from you, this...need, I guess." She chuckled again. "I was honestly expecting you'd drop the whole leadership thing the second I called you out."
Ren felt a breathless smile weave its way across every atom. "I was considering it. I really was. But I guess...it felt like giving up. Like I'd disappoint you, and everyone, stepping down the second I made a single fuck up."
"I'm glad you didn't," Panther said, reaching out to take hold of his hand, squeezing it once. "Not just cause you're a damn good leader. But when I see you throwing ideas into the playbook, taking point in the Palaces, keeping an eye on everyone to make sure we're all okay? Dude, you're fucking shining. And I would never be disappointed in you if you wanted to stop leading the Thieves, but...I mean, every time I see you really taking charge, it just looks like you're where you want to be." And her grin was absolutely fucking radiant. "It feels like where you belong."
They reached the top of the escalator and Ren still couldn't find the words to reply, so he just squeezed her hand back tight before turning his attention towards the commotion around the leftmost wall of Mementos' entrance.
"You guys opened a portal into the Metaverse!?" Oracle near-shrieked, her voice breaking in exuberant delight. Ren could vaguely see his sister past the others, examining an odd rectangular...yeah, portal was probably the best word for it he could think of. A clean break in reality – or whatever Mementos actually was – like an open doorway, something like six or seven feet on both axes. On their end, the subway entrance. On the other, some sort of wavering image of a pale grey room, like a sheet of water obscuring a painting.
"It sounds...wrong," Mona whined, curling up farther into Skull's arms. "Like a really bad song."
"That would be something you'd have to take up with the guy who invented it," Yu said with a chuckle, gesturing with his head towards the portal. Without another word, he stepped through the veil, the rippling surface seeming to swallow the young man. Once the distortion settled, yet another figure was on the other side, waving back to them vaguely through the haze.
"Guess we should follow," Queen said, slowly, glancing towards Ren for confirmation.
He took a breath, squeezed Panther's hand one more time, and let go. "Yeah," he said. "Alright. Our new allies are giving us an invitation." He gave a smile, putting his nervousness on hold. "Let's not keep them waiting." Without another word, he slipped past his friends and strode through the portal.
It felt just a little like face-planting into a wall of jello. Thick and difficult and uncomfortably cold. And then, with a resonant 'pop' that echoed across his spine, he emerged.
No blue fire. No lurch of reality reorienting itself around him. Ren was just...standing there, in his Shujin uniform. In a stale, air-conditioned room with metallic grey walls and a dozen thick bundles of cables traced along the left wall up to a goliath computer console currently being fiddled with by a muttering young man with a pale olive coat and a streak of messy red hair. Along the right wall was a series of lockers and benches. Yu, Chie, Yukiko and Ken were clustered around there, peeling off their suits piece by piece – it looked like the SRU's Metaverse outfits were made of modular parts, each strapped on over one's clothes like a suit of armor or hockey pads – and storing them in a respective locker.
"Where are we, exactly?" Akechi asked; he was also in his mundane clothes, Ren noticed. He took a long look around the lab – it was a lab, wasn't it? – before focusing on Mitsuru again. "Some kind of government facility, I assume."
"Facility, yes," Mitsuru replied, removing the rapier from her hip and tossing it to Narukami, who placed it in the locker next to his own. "Government, no. As I mentioned, the SRU operates independently." And she gestured to the room around them. "I'd like to formally welcome you to the basement of the Shadow Response Unit Headquarters."
"SRU HQ, huh?" Skull said. No, wait, Ryuji. A glance back towards the portal showed the young man in his normal clothes, cradling a perfectly ordinary talking cat. "Kinda...messier than I expected." He nodded towards the wires taking up a huge chunk of floorspace.
"That's on me," the red-haired young man said, throwing a hand up in a half-assed wave, still staring down at his computer screen. "Sorry, one sec. MEER's throwing a bit of a temper tantrum." He patted the side of the console. "Come on girl, I already warned you about these kids, don't freak out on me now."
"Should we be worried?" Haru asked, though she already sounded fairly concerned.
"Nope," the young man said, and did not elaborate.
"That," Yu said, clearly trying not to laugh as he gestured towards the young man. "Would be Sho Minazuki. He's our resident Metaverse expert, and the guy responsible for coming up with the MEER – that portal thing you guys just walked through."
"Oh, and don't leave your lunch in the fridge near his lab," Junpei added, currently crouched down next to Junior, trying to wrestle the vest off the hyperactive hound. "He's a food klepto."
"Twenty-four hour grace period," Sho replied, throwing up his middle finger without even looking at Junpei. "Anything past that is free game. I don't know why you're whining."
"Cause I wanted that sandwich!" Junpei fired back, pouting pettily like a guy half his age.
Mitsuru took a long glance towards the portal, then nodded to Sho. "Alright, Minazuki. That looks like everyone, you can close the gate now."
"Beep boop, boss," the young man replied, tapping a few keys in melodramatic fashion. The gate let out a shrill whir, some sort of wheezing hum, and Ren blinked, and it was gone. No evidence that it had been there at all.
"Beep boop," Futaba echoed, staring at Sho as if she'd just stumbled across some sort of cryptid. "I've never heard of you before. Are you a cognitive pscientist?"
Sho shook his head, then raised a hand to tap at his temple. "Boss lady's crap bastard uncle shoved a feather into my brain." Mitsuru half-winced at the statement, closing her eyes for a moment, her brow furrowed. Hm. She'd told Ren about her grandfather, but not anything about an uncle. "Downside, chronic seizures. Upside, your uh...'Metaverse' shit just makes sense to me." He waved a hand dismissively. "It's all patterns. My buddy MEER here hijacks cognitive pathways in the collective unconscious that already exist, and makes a new connection right to us. Like neutral reworking, 'cept on a huge scale."
Futaba just blinked. "Oh," she said, almost a whisper. "That's cool. That's so fucking cool."
"Um," Kasumi cut in, looking clearly both nervous and overwhelmed. "Could you tell me what happ-happ-happens now? What's..." Her eyes were locked on Akechi, who refused to meet her gaze.
Mitsuru didn't answer immediately, turning to the nearby Fuuka, who had continued to fiddle with Akechi's phone while still fully armored. "Any issues with blocking the surveillance?"
Fuuka shook her head. "I didn't uninstall the bug software, but I backdoored it and threw up a false negative. As far as anyone trying to track Akechi can tell, he's still in the Metaverse."
"Good," Mitsuru replied. Then, she turned back to Kasumi, her expression softening somewhat. "No matter what we decide to allow, I can assure your friend's safety." And her attention turned towards Akechi, both tone and eyes hardening somewhat. "The Thieves have proposed a trio of potential options, which the SRU has agreed to consider. Either you are removed from this...situation entirely, placed in some degree of supervised witness protection to ensure both your safety and ours. Or you are brought on as a consultant, removed from the Metaverse but still providing direct information and advice to both SRU and Thieves. Or you are allowed to work directly alongside the Phantom Thieves, and granted every resource and trust that the SRU plans to extend to them."
Akechi took her words in with a small scoff. "And naturally, you can't simply let me walk out of here unsupervised. Not unless I can somehow prove to you that I won't continue causing mental shutdowns, or sell you out to Shido." He adjusted his tie. "Do I have any say in which of these options will occur? Or have I simply surrendered my autonomy entirely by complying to this charade?" Akechi's tone was pointed towards Mitsuru, but his eyes flicked momentarily towards Ren. He couldn't tell if it was an extension of anger, or some silent hope that he would bail him out. Either way, Ren stayed quiet. What could he say that would change things? That would undo the messiness of this entire fucking situation? He hated the compromise they'd made too, but it was the best choice they had under current circumstances.
"You have every right to advocate for whatever you would prefer," Mitsuru said, almost coldly. "But the first order of business is to evaluate what you can be trusted with. Which requires you to provide both SRU and Thieves with any information you have on your employer, and make your case for why you we should believe you will not regress to assassination once given the chance."
"I see," Akechi said, spitting the words through grit teeth, before seeming to recover himself. "It's to be an interrogation, then?"
"If you choose to think of it that way," Mitsuru replied, her tone utterly neutral, closer to frigid.
"Akechi..." Kasumi said, before trailing off, looking away.
Akechi winced, glanced towards the far wall as well. "I know." A long, tired breath. "Fine. I'll...acquiesce. But if I must divulge something like...that, then I would request to do so in a private setting." He tightened his tie again, pressing the knot against his neck. "I cannot demand my sins be kept secret. But I at least would prefer to be spared the humiliation of doing so before the entirety of both of your little clubs." Akechi hesitated, pursing his lips. "Amamiya, Yoshizawa and as few of you Shadow Operatives as possible. Those are my terms." Despite his firm words, his tone shuddered, wavered. Drenched in insecurity.
Mitsuru was silent, seeming to consider the request. "I will accept that," she said. "So long as myself and one of my trusted associates were present." And she glanced towards Ren, who found himself without the capability of speech. In lieu of talking, he glanced near-desperately towards his allies, who didn't seem that thrilled by the concept.
"I wanna learn more about the MEER thing," Morgana said, slowly. "Futaba probably does too." The girl immediately nodded, throwing on a big fake smile. "And...maybe everyone else can get a tour?"
"I would be happy to show you all around," Aigis added. "It's getting quite close to dinnertime as well. You could join us for our evening meal."
Yusuke perked up immediately. "Free food you say?" Ann immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.
"Oh you guys are in for a treat," Chie said with a huge grin. "Teddie's on kitchen duty tonight, and he is a scary good cook. Just...uh, everything's gonna be bear-shaped."
"I hope he handles the desert too," Yukiko said, snickering at what must have been a pun on the tip of her tongue.
"Bear-y cobbler's to die for!" Sho added without skipping a beat, sending the young woman into a fit of giggles.
Ren couldn't help but smile, just a little. This was all...insane, and kind of awful, and overwhelming, but it helped to know this situation was in good hands. Okay. One foot in front of the other. Time to keep on doing his part.
10/10 – Monday
Evening
Odaiba, Shadow Response Unit Headquarters
Cold metal walls. Uncomfortable aluminum chairs. A steel-top table with a divot loop for holding handcuffs. If it wasn't for Mitsuru standing next to him, Ren could probably have been convinced he was standing in a police interrogation room, and the sight kept his right hand locked around his left wrist.
Akechi looked similarly shaken, but he was probably doing a much better job of hiding it, the subtle tension of his posture and the way his hands twitched against each other in his lap as the only indicators the young man wasn't picturesquely calm. There were four chairs in the room – Akechi at the table, Ren and Kasumi against the nearby wall. Mitsuru stayed standing, leaving the final chair empty. "How long must we wait for your associate?" the detective asked.
"He's a busy man," Mitsuru replied calmly. And no sooner had she said that then the single door swung open.
"Sorry I'm late." Naoto Shirogane stepped inside the faux-interrogation room, a manilla folder tucked under one arm and a coffee in his other hand. And Akechi went fucking pale. "Kanji's stuck in a meeting with Rise's record label at the moment, so I had to catch the train over here." He gave a smile to Ren and Kasumi. "Hello Ren. And..."
"Kas-Kasumi Yoshizawa," the girl squeaked. "Hello."
"Yoshizawa," Naoto repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I feel like I've heard that name before..."
"My father is the director of Good Morning Japan," she said, and Naoto snapped his fingers.
"Ah! Right, yes. Nice to meet you, Kasumi." And with a quick glance towards Mitsuru – and her silent nod – he sat down across from Akechi. "Coffee?" And he placed the cup down in front of the young man.
Akechi didn't so much as blink, eyes locked on the man in front of him. "The long-awaited meeting of the Detective Princes," he said, his voice low, any number of imperceptible emotions flitting across his tone. "I'm sure you've enjoyed finding out your successor was a fraud."
"To the contrary." Naoto calmly opened the folder, skimming through it. "I haven't taken personal enjoyment in any part of this so far." He gave a little odd smile over the top of the folder. "If you care about my opinion of you, I'd be happy to tell you later. But we have more important things to discuss, wouldn't you agree?"
"I..." Akechi seemed genuinely taken aback by Naoto's refusal to so much as gloat. Slowly, he turned his attention towards the to-go cup. "And how am I to trust that this is not spiked with some sort of...'interrogation enhancer?' If you–"
Without a word, Naoto picked up the cup and took a sizable swig of its contents, immediately flinching. "Ah! Oh that's hotter than I thought." The detective laughed. "Maybe...give it some time to cool down, actually." And he placed the coffee back down in front of Akechi. "You've got every right to be suspicious, but...ow, fuck." He sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, way too hot. But if you remember, of the two of us, I left the police; after making a quite clear moral objection to their methods, mind you." He gave a tight-lipped smile, and there was finally an ounce of bitterness in that calm grey gaze. "Do you honestly think I'd drug you after doing something like that?"
The young man didn't respond, not right away. "I suppose not." He picked up the cup, popping the top off it and blowing away the steam before taking a noisy sip of his own. "A little too bitter for my tastes." Despite his protest, he took another sip before speaking again. "Where shall we start, then?" Ren let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. A quick glance towards Kasumi showed a similar hesitant optimism caught in her eyes.
"At the beginning," Naoto said, returning his attention to the manilla folder. "What were the circumstances of your Persona awakening, and how did you come to work for Masayoshi Shido?"
Akechi breathed in through his teeth, and out through his nose, sending a cascade of steam in all directions. "When I was fifteen," he began. "I found myself inexplicably pulled into the Palace of one Nakano Toyaki. My civics teacher." He ran an idle hand across his sleeve, pulling at it, adjusting as if trying to ensure the cuff would stay around his wrist. "That was when I called upon Robin Hood for the first time. Which resulted in Mister Toyaki's...his demise. That was the very first mental shutdown. The police ruled it a heart attack, no doubt they were instructed to do so."
"By Shido?" Naoto asked.
"Yes." Akechi took another long sip of coffee. "I knew he was my father back then, I had known for years. I had heard his name from my mother many times, after all." He grit his teeth, a shudder passing over him. "And yet he never came. Not once. I grew up in his house, and yet he was never there. Every other month, my mother would try to run, and she would be dragged back by force." A crazed laugh slipped out of him. "His men would leave food by the door. Barely enough for one person, mind you. And the days when they only starved us were the better ones." The implication lurched at Ren's throat. Fuck. He knew the young man's childhood had been bad, but this was...this was horrifying beyond description. "I watched my mother starve. I watched the hunger break her. And I watched her die."
Kasumi flinched in place, both hands clenched in her lap, shuddering, her eyes screwed shut. Ren's own chest was threatening to tear itself open, but he scooted a little closer. Not touching her, he didn't want to invade her space, but he hoped the proximity would help. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's gonna be okay. I promise." And he threw a glance towards Akechi, praying the message would reach him too. If it did, the young man didn't seem relieved in the slightest.
"I'm sorry," Naoto said, his voice calm, twinged just slightly towards softness. "Do you need a moment?"
Akechi scoffed. "Don't patronize me, Shirogane." He placed the cup back down – his hand was shuddering, nearly spilling the coffee – and crossed his arms. "His men had never known my mother's name, nor mine. We were nothing to them, as we were nothing to Shido himself. And when those men came to investigate Mister Toyaki's death, not a single one of them recognized me. But I recognized a few of them." An unstable smile, like the corners of the young man's mouth had been pulled back without his consent. "I confessed my culpability, making them think I had buckled under the pressure of their miserable attempt at interrogation. And they did exactly what I hoped they would: they brought me right to my father. Who was, of course, very interested in how I had killed a man without leaving a single trace of evidence that could possibly incriminate me."
"And he hired a fifteen-year old to commit assassinations for him," Naoto concluded, almost dryly, like he didn't quite believe the explanation.
"I endeared myself to his values," Akechi replied, quick and precise. "I 'admitted' to him that I had no regrets about harming Mister Toyaki, that I considered him worthy of death. It wasn't hard for him to therefore 'convince' me that I could help him do good by ridding the world of similar human garbage." An odd wince as the words left him. Was it regret? Or something more complicated? "And given that I followed his instructions from then on without question, playing myself as some easily swayed child, he never once treated me as anything more than an obedient minion. He would pay me for my work, brag to me about his schemes, and never once look closer than I wanted him to." An iota of pride seeped into Akechi's tone. "I ingratiated myself with the police and adopted the public role of the 'Second Detective Prince' while providing unparalleled insight into the very crimes I had caused. All at Shido's instruction."
"Then your reputation as a genius was equally manufactured?" Naoto asked. His words were clearly pointed, oddly petty, but his tone and expression remained neutral.
Akechi's eyes narrowed. "My mental fortitude never needed to be faked," he replied. "But I will admit nearly all of my cases were fabricated in order to cover up a mental shutdown, or to frame Shido's enemies." He pursed his lips, frustration flowing into bitterness. "That was...yet another tool. Something to prove my usefulness." Akechi strained up, adjusting his tie, staring down his interrogator. "Does that answer your questions, detective?"
Something...there was something the young man hadn't said, some sort of... "Loki," Ren said, drawing the focus of the room. "You said when you awakened to your Persona, to Robin Hood. But back in Mementos, you didn't have just one. You had Loki too."
Naoto raised an eyebrow, and Mitsuru blinked quickly at the news. "Two Personas?" she muttered.
"I assume by your reaction it's not a common ability," Akechi replied dryly. "If you must know, I awakened to Loki a few months after agreeing to work for Shido. Within..." He tensed. Hesitant. Maybe guilty. "Within Wakaba Isshiki's Palace."
"You–" Ren cut himself off, even as anger flared up into his throat. Akechi had...he'd... "You figured out how to use the Wild Card in order to kill my sister's mom," barely able to keep his voice steady, "and then you kept fucking using it?" Kasumi's hand on his shoulder, barely perceivable through the crimson haze that had settled across his irises.
Akechi wilted. He leaned back away from Ren, away from that anger. And that stemmed the tide. Ren felt lucid, again. Lucid and empty. "I'm..." Akechi said, his voice shuddering. "I recognize that...my reasons were and are selfish. There's nothing I can do to take that back–"
"So tell us why," Kasumi said. Her voice was quiet but firm, her hand unsteady against Ren. "Futaba...she des-deserves to know, doesn't she?" The girl bit her lip. "We all do."
He didn't say a word, not at once. "I suppose you do," he finally replied. A pause, a breath. "That power saved my life. I most likely would have died in Isshiki's Palace, had it not been for Loki's manifestation. And I couldn't...I couldn't let myself die. Not until I had exposed my father, not until I had taken my revenge against him." Akechi's hands clenched against the sleeves of his shirt, arms shaking. An awful little laugh escaped him. "That is the only reason I'm still alive. Because I haven't yet had a chance to strangle the life out of him."
"I don't believe that." Naoto's words snapped a pale silence, a morbid stillness, into the entire room. Akechi was motionless, blinking quickly, and Ren felt similarly frozen. "I'm sorry, Akechi. But revenge isn't a satisfactory explanation for what you've done. Not to me."
"He killed my mother," Akechi replied, his voice hoarse, almost desperate. "And left me to die in foster care."
Naoto nodded. "Yes he did. He abandoned you and was culpable in the abuse you faced as a child. I absolutely believe you have every intention of murdering him." He shifted in his chair, closing the folder and placing it down in front of him. "Does Masayoshi Shido have a Palace?"
Akechi blinked. "Yes," he said, slowly. Ren felt his stomach lurch. Shido...that should have been obvious, of course that monster would be distorted enough for that, but somehow he hadn't even thought...
"And have you been there?" The question thrust a further chill down Ren's throat.
"Yes," Akechi replied, breathless, his eyes wide.
"And he has not suffered a mental shutdown." Naoto's tired grey eyes might as well have been daggers, and Ren wasn't even the one they were pointed towards.
"I...he..." Akechi swallowed hard, his breath shaking. "He kept me busy. I tried...his Palace is...it's more secure than–"
"Two years," Naoto said, calmly. And Akechi stopped talking. "Even assuming that you hadn't fully figured out your powers by the time you agreed to become Shido's assassin, you still had more than enough time to find a way past any obstacle he could have possibly thrown at you."
"If he...if he trusted me," Akechi continued, his tone weak, almost pathetic. "Then his Palace would have been...would have opened to me. I couldn't...I couldn't kill him, not until he..."
Naoto let out a long, almost disappointed breath. "Out of every person he sent you to kill, how many did you fail to assassinate? Have you ever once gone back to him empty handed, because a Palace was simply too difficult to infiltrate?"
The young man was quiet, staring down at the table. "No." His voice was hoarse, strained with frustration. As if it physically pained him to admit as much.
"Then what was so different about him?" Naoto asked. "I'm guessing you haven't taken the time to earn the trust of anyone else whose Shadow you killed. Even if you had, I seriously doubt it would have taken anywhere close to two years."
"He..." Akechi shook his head. "I don't know."
"What was different, Akechi?" He placed a hand on the table, over the folder. "What was stopping you from killing him?"
"I don't know!" Akechi slammed his hands down on the table, shoving it back a few inches, the metal screeching against the floor and the coffee cup toppling over onto the ground, its contents splashing across the far wall. Kasumi and Ren both nearly flinched out of their skin, Mitsuru tensed but Naoto didn't move an inch. "I...I don't...I don't know. I couldn't kill him. I went to his Palace and I looked for his Shadow and I...I just couldn't. I couldn't...make myself kill him." He leaned over, eyes screwed shut, hands shaking, forehead almost pressed against the table. "What the fuck do you want from me?" His voice was almost a wheeze, almost a gasp, something quiet and pained.
Naoto didn't respond right away. And when he did, it was in a voice that was almost startlingly soft. "I want you to recognize that you were fifteen when your father asked you to work for him. According to what I've observed of your public life, what I've been told by Kitagawa and what you yourself have told me: you have spent the last two years being isolated, forced into an invasive public role, and rewarded for your obedience and complicity. I want you to understand that that is textbook grooming." Naoto offered an awful, pained smile. "And I want you to know that having complicated and contradictory feelings towards someone who abandoned you is one of the most normal and sane things that anyone could ever feel." He let out a long breath. "Most of all, I want you to be able to see that you're being taken advantage of. Because until you can see that, you'll never be able to get out of it."
"I..." Akechi shook his head, raising his gaze to glare at Naoto. "You're wrong. You're wrong, I'm...I'm not some fucking victim. I was in control!" His voice echoed in the tiny room. Thin, and frail, and filled with barely-contained panic. "I was in control. I knew what I was doing. I...I'm a murderer." He choked out an awful, pained laugh, dropping his head again. "I'm my father's child, aren't I? Why is it so hard to believe that I could be just as bloodthirsty as him?"
"Don't," Ren said, before he could catch the word. "Don't lie to us. Don't lie to yourself, not like that. You don't..." He grit his teeth. "You don't get to just pariah yourself just to get off the hook. I'm not letting you drop out of your own fucking life." A shudder knocked a tension between his words, like a stifled sob. "We're not leaving you. I'm not leaving you. So stop trying to make me."
"Akechi," Kasumi whispered, sniffling quietly. "You're...it's not your fault. You're not...you're not like him." She swallowed hard, clearly biting back tears. "I know it's scary to think about. It's eas-easier...to just be what he wanted you to be, right?" The young man didn't reply, he just shook in his seat, like a silent leaf in a roaring gale. "It's never easy to say no to someone like that. Esp-esp-especially not when...when they're family."
"I agree completely," Naoto said, giving the girl a brief smile before turning back to Akechi. "At this point, I have no reason to believe that you should be held legally or morally responsible for the mental shutdowns." Akechi's head snapped up, his eyes wide and puffy. "There is nothing I have seen or heard that suggests you had enough control over your situation to be considered culpable."
"You're an idiot," the boy spat, every breath another shudder.
Naoto shrugged. "Maybe I am. But I have enough experience with abuse to say with confidence that nearly anyone would have done the same in your position." He gave Mitsuru a pointed glance. "And I have every intention of advocating for your continued autonomy."
The woman nodded, her expression neutral. "The SRU will need to discuss further," she said, calm and even. "I can't say for certain what the outcome will be. But it does seem that everyone who has heard your story so far has decided to side with you." A little tiny smile, maybe forced, but it still echoed like a song. "That is quite a meaningful occurrence, I think."
Akechi's temporary room looked to have been some sort of one-person barracks, given the cramped quarters and minimal furnishings. Only a bed, a table, a couple chairs and artificial lights above. The young man was seated on the former– a plain mattress and cheap-looking blankets on a slat in the wall – when Ren entered. "What is it now?" he said, equal parts bitter and exhausted. But his tone wasn't exactly sharp. Closer to resignation than vitriol.
Naoto and Mitsuru had taken their leave, most likely to discuss things further in private, and Kasumi was on her way to the cafeteria. But Ren lingered. He had to. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, whatever for?" Akechi glared furiously at him, near-crimson eyes behind the brown hair that had fallen in front of his face.
"Everything," Ren replied. "I hoped it'd be easier. That they'd just...trust you, the way I do. That this wouldn't be so complicated." A sigh left him, unbeckoned. "That you wouldn't have to just dump your trauma out in the open like that. Not...not even to me."
A shudder tore through the Prince. "And yet you were entitled to this?" He shoved a hand into his pocket, yanking the letter out and throwing it towards the table. The paper slipped and slid on the air, drifting onto the ground just short of the metal. "You and all your friends?"
"I didn't choose to be sent that," Ren replied, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. It wasn't personal, he knew it wasn't personal. But it still fucking stung. "I'm not...I didn't choose any of this."
"Neither did I!" Akechi screamed, his fingers digging into his legs, bunching his pants. And then he froze, as if he had just heard the words that had left his lips. "No, I...shut up. Shut up!"
Ren waited for the echoes of his own sparked panic to subside. "I'm doing the best with what I'm being given. I promise I'm not trying to hurt you. I just...want things to be okay. I want my friends to be okay. And you're still one of them." A single note of laughter drifted between his breaths. "Despite your best efforts."
Akechi surged off the bed, across the room before Ren could blink. A hand at his collar, shoving him back into the wall – he instinctively grabbed onto the young man's arm, even as shock blurred his vision, sending his heart racing past the point of cognizance. He braced himself for Akechi's next motion, for a blow aimed for his gut or his face or...
The blow didn't come. Akechi's eyes were wild and empty. A shudder tore through his expression, through the arm still grabbing onto Ren's collar. "I..." And the young man simply keeled forward and pressed his forehead against the wall next to Ren's head, pinning him limply in place. Like he couldn't bear to let him leave. Like he couldn't bear to stop him. "I hate you," he muttered, the words leaving him pained, quiet, awful. "I hate you. I hate you."
Ren didn't say a word. He couldn't find a single word to say. He let go of Akechi's arm. And he stayed, as those shudders gave way to quiet sobbing. He stayed, and he waited. It was all he could do, all he could think to do. And he hoped it would be enough.
A hundred thousand thanks to Jane for beta-reading this chapter, and for helping inspire the vast majority of this arc, including this chapter – the last two scenes of which I have had in my back pocket since last year. If it wasn't for her, this arc wouldn't have been possible, let alone as powerful.
