CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains many references to offscreen self harm, including some descriptions of cause, motivation and method. While not graphic, this content still may be difficult or upsetting to read, so please take breaks or skip sections as needed. Stay safe.


10/11 – Tuesday
After School
Odaiba, Shadow Response Unit Headquarters

"Do you need to sup-supervise us, Miss Mitsuru?" Kasumi asked, following the woman through the underground hallway in near lockstep, as if she couldn't bear to do anything but sprint to her friend's room. Ren, however, hung back a couple feet behind them. He didn't have anywhere close to her hastiness, currently feeling a little closer to dread; not to mention how much a jog would definitely irritate his feline companion.

"I do not," Mitsuru assured. "As I have said before, I trust the Thieves implicitly. While I do not extend that same..." She trailed off. Not quick enough to obscure her intent. The woman still didn't trust Akechi. And Ren couldn't blame her in the slightest. "Besides which, I have other matters to attend to. It would be a poor use of my time to babysit you." A little chuckle.

"Thank you," he said. Ren's head was still a dozen places at once, but he could easily spare some gratitude for Mitsuru. After all she'd done for him, for Akechi, she deserved at least that.

"And of course," she continued, "if Shirogane's reports are anything to go by, our Second Prince relaxed greatly after you paid him a visit yesterday." She sent a little smile over her shoulder.

Ren could still feel the second-hand shudder through his chest. The echoes of quiet, furious sobbing in his ear, far worse than tinnitus. "Good to know."

Mitsuru slowed to a halt, Kasumi nearly barreling into her. "A warning, though. Akechi has...declined his own self care in a few very prominent ways." She turned to face them, her lips pursed. "He seems quite attached to that suit, for starters. He's refused to wear anything else. And beyond that..." Mitsuru sighed. "I recognize we are still struggling to adjust to how best to support him. I do not ask for your empty faith, but please know that Shirogane has copious experience in these matters, and I am giving serious weight to his advice as a result."

Kasumi hummed something in the back of her throat, clearly overwhelmed. "He'll be okay," she said, slowly, firmly. "I know he will." And Ren couldn't tell who she was reassuring, exactly.

Ren nodded. "I'll keep checking on him. If stuff gets bad, I'll be here to notice." He massaged his left wrist. "I've got experience too. So if stuff isn't working, me and Naoto can figure it out." It was almost a promise. But it felt closer to a threat. Maybe that was fitting, given the nature of their arrangement, but he couldn't feel quite content with it.

Mitsuru gave a tight-lipped smile. "I appreciate it." And she nodded towards the nearby door. "If you need anything, Ren has my number. Ken and Akihiko are staying nearby; if there's an emergency, just yell for them." She took a breath, as if bracing herself for her own departure. "Take care." And she walked back down the hall past them.

Kasumi silently stared at the entrance to Akechi's room, as if examining the heavy door for danger. She reached out, knocking twice. A pause that looked painful for her, clearly forcing herself to give her friend time to adjust. And then she grabbed the handle and pulled open the door, slipping inside with Ren a step behind her.

Akechi's room was still unadorned. And the only part of it that looked any different was...the boy himself, reclining on his bed, leaning back against the wall in a sickening mockery of relaxation.

The Prince's eyes were tired, the bags beneath them indescribably stark. And the skin of his face was pale, as if Ren had left him in that underground room for weeks, rather than hours. His hair was messy, tangled and flattened in odd places. Just as Mitsuru said, he was still wearing that fitted tan suit, with the detective badge almost shining in the artificial light. It was wrinkled. And the sleeves...fuck. Blotches of dark across the fabric of his inner forearms, half-dried stains. A myriad of wounds bleeding through his sleeves. "Apologies for my appearance," the detective said, dryly. "Television makeup is a wondrous thing, if you weren't aware. And I haven't exactly had the energy to re-apply mine." Still so full of vitriol. Still so fucking distant. As if nothing had changed between them.

Ren took a long glance around the room. No belongings. No personal effects. Nothing sharp enough to...he grit his teeth. "You could have called, you know." It was weak, and he knew it.

"With what phone?" Akechi fired back. "In case you aren't aware, your allies confiscated mine."

Kasumi breathed out. Once, a sharp exhalation. And then she crossed the room, sitting down on the foot of her friend's bed. The Prince stiffened. Tensing at her proximity. "Goro," she said.

He winced. "Don't–" Sharp, and the boy bit it back. "Just Akechi. Please." His demeanor had shifted in an instant. No longer Ren's untouchable rival. Just...a quiet, tired young man.

"Akechi," she corrected. "You...don't have to pret-pretend that it doesn't hurt." She smiled, strained and gentle. "I know it's eas-easier for you to be angry. But you can trust Ren." Hesitation stretching through the space between her words. "You can trust me."

Akechi winced, closing his eyes; his brow furrowing, nose curled. And then he relaxed. Something deep, vulnerable, far softer than that empty fury caught so often in his irises. He said nothing. Just opened his eyes and stared at Kasumi. As if he almost couldn't believe she was there at all.

"I wasn't sure how to tell you," she continued. "You prob-probably already know, though. But I was worried, because you're so smart, that you'd figure out..." A little laugh drifted out of her.

"I know that you changed your parents' hearts," Akechi said, quietly. "And that you visited a psychiatric hospital with him." A little bitter glance towards Ren. He wasn't even tempted to return fire. There was nothing there to get angry about. It was too bitter, too petty. Ren silently pulled over one of the chairs from the table, and sat down in it. Too much to say. Not a single way to say it. "And that you joined the Thieves, after awakening to your Persona."

Kasumi nodded. "When I heard Cendrillion's voice for the first time, I rememb-remembered." A long, almost pained breath. "I remembered what happened to Sumire."

Akechi's idle gaze snapped towards her. His dark eyes wide. Mouth slightly open, jaw nearly limp. "You..." His voice was strained to the point of splintering.

"I found her. Akechi, I found her." There was something so radiant in that little smile. "I was scared I wasn't gonna, scared she was gone for-forever. But she's not." A laugh between her words. "She's alive. She's gonna be okay."

Ren watched the detective's expression shift. From shock to confusion, finally settling on that quiet tempest he'd seen in him before. Something like anger burning frigid, a snowstorm caught howling behind his irises. "That hospital. That...wasn't for you, was it?" Ren's gut lurched. He hadn't even realized, but...seeing that, without knowing about Sumire? It wasn't too hard of a leap of logic to assume Kasumi was pursuing hospitalization herself.

The gymnast shook her head. "It was to see her. She's had really bad psych-psychosis, ever since we were kids. I didn't know what that was back then, what it meant. But after–"

"Did you know," Akechi said, quick and sharp, Kasumi starting at the interruption. "I asked your father about Sumire, quite subtly of course, after you told me about her. Do you know what he said to me?" His dark eyes flared with umbral vitriol, the corner of his mouth pulled back as if in a snarl. "He mentioned an accident. He...he said..." A quick giggle eclipsed his words, perhaps involuntary. "He spoke of his daughter. His singular daughter. And you're telling me that that girl was in a hospital the entire time!?" Kasumi winced back at the surge of volume.

"Akechi–" Ren warned.

"I could have looked for her!" He ran both hands back through his hair, fingers catching on the loose strands. "I should have looked. I let that bastard pull the wool over my eyes too." Another crazed little laugh slipped out of him. "Some detective I am. Unable to even consider he might be lying through his fucking teeth."

"It wasn't your fault," Kasumi said softly. "You couldn't have known."

"Ah, yes, that's fair," Akechi replied, though his tone was no less furious. "It is his fault, through and through. And yet..." He shifted farther upright, that furious gaze turning towards Ren. "And yet Shinichi Yoshizawa walks freely. Tell me, Joker, why your justice has turned a blind eye. Tell me why you encouraged Kasumi–"

"Akechi!" Kasumi snapped, and the boy flinched in place. "It was my dec-decision. Not Ren's." Her glare softened, irritation melting away in an instant. "I could have pushed them to conf-confess. I still can, if I really want to." A long breath out. "But I don't want to."

"Why?" Akechi asked, his voice so small again, so quiet. As if he couldn't bear to turn that ire onto her. "He lied to you. Kasumi, he shoved your sister in a mental hospital and made you doubt your own sanity. Why...why spare him?"

She didn't answer, not right away. "Because Sumire des-deserves a home to come back to, and I can't do that if our parents are in jail." Another awful little smile. "Changing their hearts didn't fix everything, but they listen to me now. They're getting her dis-discharged from the hosp-hospital in a few weeks, and they promised they'd listen to her too." A breath in, a breath out, something both kind and firm in the air between them. "I'll keep fighting for Sumire. If I have to, I will." Kasumi sent a little smile towards Ren. "And I won't be fighting alone."

Despite the tension still weaving its way through his bones, he smiled back. And he didn't even have to force it. "You won't be. Not ever. " Ren turned his head slightly, eyes locked on Akechi. "That's not the way we operate. Not when someone needs our help, Thief or otherwise." The detective scoffed, but didn't press the issue.

"Mhm!" Morgana added from inside his bag.

"I'll fight for you too," she said. And Akechi froze. "If you'll let me." Kasumi scooted closer, just a little bit. "If anything happ-happens, while you're here. If anyone makes you feel uns-unsafe. Then I'd get you out." Starshine gleaming across her irises. "I promise."

"You can't promise that," he replied, almost wilting back. "You shouldn't promise that. You have her to worry about now, I'm not–"

"If you tell me that you're not imp-important to me," she interrupted, her tone stern. "Then I'm going to kick your ass. I'm going to take care of Sumire, and I'm going to help the Phantom Thieves, and I'm not going to leave you behind. And you can't convince me otherw-otherwise."

Akechi blinked. And then a laugh bubbled out of him. As involuntary as ever, but this one seemed...softer, almost. More genuine. More of what a laugh should be. "Of course. You've always been a dreamer, haven't you? Even after everything the world has put you through, you're still that girl who believes in happy endings." His head drooped slightly, as if he inexplicably lacked the energy to keep himself up. "Remarkable, isn't it? The ace detective, boy genius," snickering as if the title amused him, "and his only real friend is the farthest thing from a realist."

"Akechi," she said, the world's softest scold, almost a whine.

"I mean that as a compliment," Akechi continued. "I could never be like you, Kasumi." His voice dropped, to almost a whisper. "But there are few worse things I could think of than being like me."

Kasumi frowned. "I can," she said. A sigh, a silence, a hesitation. Ren had a feeling he knew what she wanted to say. And maybe she couldn't say it, but he could.

"I don't know if you saw Futaba's Palace," he began, both Akechi and Kasumi seeming to tense in unison. "But you know what it means to have one, right? You know what it implies about your cognitive state." Ren braced his next sentence behind a long breath. "I'm not saying your situation is worse than hers, or the other way around. It's not a fair comparison either way. But Futaba was the only Palace Ruler I've ever heard of who knew their cognition was distorted. And even knowing stuff about the Metaverse, and even as smart as she is – and she is smart, she's fucking brilliant – she couldn't pull herself out of that state."

"And I could," Akechi finished. He glanced away with a frustrated exhalation. "Because I have a Persona." He threw an arm up in an exaggerated half-body shrug, and Ren tried not to flinch at how the motion put his bloody sleeve on gaudy display. "I suppose your sister is simply a better person than I am. After all, she never started murdering–"

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Ren snapped. "I'm not trying to prove that you could have done anything different. Maybe you could, but you didn't know what you were getting yourself into." He pursed his lips. "I'm trying to prove that you can do something different now."

Kasumi nodded slowly, brow furrowed, a little hum in the back of her throat like something had just clicked for her. "Akechi. Do you want to work for Shido?"

The Prince flinched. "No," he said, almost a laugh behind the word. "Of course I don't. You should know...I mean, that is to say, I loathe that man." He crossed his arms, but the motion almost seemed more like a shuddering embrace, like he was cradling himself. "He is an abomination of a human being. The living embodiment of scum. He killed my mother and left me to die. I only wish for his life to continue as long as it takes for me to snuff it."

Another nod, another hum. "Do you want to be a Det-Detective Prince?"

"I..." Akechi hesitated. Blinked twice. "I admit, there are...benefits, to that title." He spoke slower now, more careful. Eyes flitting back and forth as if he were trying to piece together Kasumi's logic before she revealed it. "Being a celebrity places my mother's name on the tongues of her detractors. It means I am...protected." A little shudder. Or, maybe not even, Ren easily could have imagined it. "Though of course, that protection is useless to me, conditional as it is on my obedience."

A smirk twitched at his lips. "Whether I kill Shido or expose his crimes, whether I die or live as a result, that title and its benefits will be stricken from me the moment I step out of line. The mental shutdowns will be exposed, pinned on me, and I will be..." Another giggle, cutting off his words. "Dethroned. But no, I don't care for the gaudiness of royalty. Nor..." He snapped the quickest of glances towards Ren. "Nor working alongside the police. What little sense of justice I have left would not stand for such a thing were it not a means to an end."

Kasumi took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "My parents thought they were doing the right thing." Akechi's own breathing stalled. Ren felt his chest tighten. "It wasn't right. They abandoned Sumire. They lied to everyone. They made me think my sist-sister didn't exist. They hurt me, and they hurt one of my favor-favorite people in the whole world."

A tense, almost wry smile. "But they thought they were protecting me. They thought she was going to rec-recover. So they didn't care if they saw me hurting. They wouldn't listen, not until Ren and Futaba and Morgana helped me change their hearts." Her eyes were gleaming with what might have been tears. "That's why I know you can change. Because you don't want to stay the same. Because you know it's wrong. And because you wouldn't have come with Ren unless you want-wanted to do something different. To be someone different." She swallowed hard, and reached out an unsteady hand. Not all the way, just waiting there, palm up. An invitation.

Akechi stared at her. Then down at her hand. He didn't move. He didn't speak. Not for what felt like minutes. "You'll be supporting Sumire, yes?" he asked, finally. "How will that affect your relationship with the Thieves?"

Kasumi frowned, lowering her hand. "I talked it out with them. I'm gonna keep helping when I can, but I'm an hon-honorary Thief right now. So I won't be there all the time."

"I see." Akechi's voice nearly cracked, and he cleared his throat. "So if I were to...hypothetically..." He shook his head. "No, never mind."

Ren blinked. Holy shit. Holy shit. And a huge grin spread across his face. "Were you just about to ask about joining the Thieves?"

"No," Akechi said, far too quickly.

"That's what it sounded like to me," Morgana added, and Ren could hear the little mischievous smirk in his voice.

And Kasumi burst out laughing, hiding her giggles behind one hand. "If you did," she said, clearly trying to stifle her own mirth. "Then you wouldn't be alone. I'd be there as much as I could be, I prom-promise."

"You shouldn't promise that," Akechi said, and then blinked at his own response and let out a sharp sigh. "Regardless of the specificity of my...cooperation, you should prioritize Sumire. She needs you far more than I do."

"It's not about need," Kasumi replied. "You're my best friend. Even if you never needed me again, I'd still wanna be around you." She shifted off the bed, standing up and stretching.

"You're heading out?" Ren asked.

She nodded. "I could probably just stay here and talk with you both for hours," almost giggling out the words, "but I've got a big day tomorrow. There's school, and pract-practice, and then Ann invited me and Futaba to go shopping and do karaoke with her."

Ren chuckled. "Sounds like a blast."

"Yes," Akechi replied, his voice distinct and false. "I wouldn't dare keep you."

Kasumi gave the detective a long, odd look. "I love you," she said, and tilted her head slightly. "You know that, right?"

Akechi didn't answer.

Kasumi sighed, giving a far more forced smile. "I'll come see you later this week. I should have some time this Saturday. I hope that's not too long a w-wait." And she turned towards the door.

"Kasumi." An almost desperate voice that sounded so unlike Akechi's. The boy seemed to wince at his own words. "I...I need to..." He let out a frustrated, shuddering breath.

She turned back immediately, crouching down slightly next to the bed. "I'm here. If you need me–"

He shook his head. "It's not..." Another breath, another pause, like an engine stalling at nothing. Akechi shifted, uncrossing his arms, and placed his right hand over the detective badge pinned to his suit. He fiddled with the emblem, like he was just looking for something to do with his hands. And then, he pulled back the fabric. Not a cut, or a break. A pocket.

And he slipped his fingers inside, extracting a small...pocket knife. It was black, the blade retracted, but Ren knew it immediately. And the sight sent an unparalleled frigidity through him. "A sharp weapon hidden behind a shiny emblem." Akechi's voice wavered on every syllable. "It was always a little too on-the-nose for my tastes." And he held the knife out, still clutched tight in his fingers. Like he couldn't let himself give it up.

Kasumi stared down at his hand for the longest time. And then she carefully reached out, and pulled back his fingers. And took the knife. And let her hand rest in his. "If you need anything," she said, her voice steady and calm and her eyes brimming with tears. "I'll be here. Even if it was just me, I'd be by your side." She sniffed once, beaming at him. "You mean the world to me. You and Sumire are the most important people in my life. You really are. And I'm not leav-leaving you, just like I'd never leave her."

"Promise?" he asked, his voice quiet, and nearly empty.

"I promise," she whispered back.


10/12 – Wednesday
After School
Maruki's Office

Maruki gave a little chuckle and an awkward scratch at the back of his neck as he took his seat on the couch across from Ren. "You look like you've had a pretty rough morning," he said, his tone chipper but concerned.

Ren sighed, forcing a meek smile. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Rough couple of days, actually. I guess this week has been… a lot." A little chuckle bubbled out of him. Understatement of the century.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the therapist said with a firm nod. "I understand, though. Sometimes things pile up, or stuff pops up we just haven't accounted for…" A pause as he popped the plastic straw through his juice box. "What kind of 'a lot' are we talking about, exactly? Maybe we can work through it."

Ren nodded. He doubted it, but it didn't hurt to try. Maruki didn't always provide an answer, but he could get Ren's thinking on the right track. And right now, he needed every open track available. "Well, it's a friend of mine. I guess…we've got a complicated relationship, but…they're going through a hard time. Like, really hard." A sigh, and his hand reached up to twist a lock of hair around his finger. "And I guess it's just…I don't know how to help. I wish I could, but it still feels like we're really distant. Like there's nothing I can do to close the gap."

The therapist nodded along, stopping to idly wipe away at a few drops of spilled juice on the coffee table between them. "I understand," he said once Ren was finished. "You're right, that's quite challenging." He paused, humming a single note in thought. "Well, first I'd say that you can't do much of anything if you're not taking care of yourself first." Ren tried to push that thought away. Maruki wasn't wrong, exactly, but Ren could hardly spare the time to take a self-care day in the midst of everything. He owed it to Kasumi, to Futaba, to Haru, to everyone to get them closure. And he figured he at least owed it to Akechi to try and help.

"I know," Ren mumbled. "I'm doing my best to step away when I can't handle it. Pacing myself, y'know." It was a weak excuse, but with any luck it would be enough to get the man off his back and back on-topic to potential solutions. The things Ren really needed right now.

"That's good," Maruki said with another nod. He fiddled with the straw of his juice box, seeming to think for a moment. "It's tough to help someone who doesn't want help. Sometimes you just can't. It's hard to accept, but you can't force someone to take your assistance."

"They want help," Ren fired back, almost on instinct. It was a second later he realized his own outburst, something a little surprising, even to him. "They just…don't know how to ask for it, I think. I think they've got a bad history with trust."

Maruki nodded. "Care to elaborate? Only as much as you're comfortable with, of course. You don't have to spill the details."

Ren nodded, his hand shuddering a bit. The warm lump in his bag next to him pushed closer against his leg, purring softly, and he held the cat in place with one arm. "They've been taken advantage of. Manipulated by people they should be able to trust. And I think, even if they want to trust again, that's gonna be hard. They're not only paranoid, but like…rightfully paranoid, you know? They've got a reason to be."

Maruki nodded along, crossing one leg over the other as he began to speak. "I'm starting to see what you mean. That certainly is a challenge. And I think…" he paused, sighing. "It's hard, Ren. I think it's admirable to just try,"

Ren tried and failed to force a smile. "Thanks." But that wasn't enough. Trying wasn't good enough, and he knew it.

The therapist continued, thankfully. "It's a matter of patience. Being open and honest and letting them know you're here even when it's rough. I wouldn't sacrifice your own mental health talking to a brick wall, and I would walk away when you feel you need to. But keep offering. Just be there. Stop by, hit them up, just…be around. And they'll come to you when they're ready. When they feel like they can trust you."

It always came down to patience. Taking your time. The one thing Ren didn't have in abundant supply. The only thing that was desperately slipping through his fingers day after day. He couldn't buy a solution with the millions of yen in his attic, he couldn't engineer it with the gifts from his future self, couldn't brute force it with a Persona, couldn't overwhelm it with the Thieves' numbers. He just had to wait. And that was the worst of all. He hugged Morgana closer.

"Okay," Ren muttered, almost a whisper. "Can I ask about something else now?"

Maruki nodded. "Of course. Feel free."

Hesitation. Ren's right hand found his left wrist. "Do you have… any tips to help people kick a self-harm habit?" He winced, preparing for a look of judgment, of shock and horror from the man across the table, but Maruki simply gave a measured nod.

"Sure," he said. "It's more of a tailored type of thing, though. Do you have any specific reasons in mind? Something that causes the self-harm, a motivation."

Ren sighed. He didn't know for sure, but he could probably guess. He didn't like digging into himself for the answer as much as he didn't like assuming, but…if this would help, it was worth it. "Guilt, I think. When you're feeling so much emotional turmoil that doesn't manifest, that doesn't show, I guess you wanna just…feel it. Make it more real. Make it material, visceral, right there. That way it's undeniable. No one…" his breath caught in his throat. "No one can look at you and say you aren't bleeding."

Silence for a moment, a horrible and unbearable silence as the therapist took that all in, and then he gave another nod. "I see," he said plainly. "I think I understand." A gentle little smile as he looked at Ren again. "I've got two ideas in mind. To satisfy that compulsion for pain you mentioned, a common trick is…" and he paused, leaning over to pull open the minifridge on the table between them, still stocked to the brim with juice cartons. He retrieved a small chip of ice from the edge, holding it out in the palm of his hand. "Ice stings a lot like a cut does, if you hold it against your skin for a short time. It can recreate the feeling a little more safely while you wean off the habit." And he let the chip of ice drop onto the table. "Not for too long, though. You don't wanna get uh…freezer burn?" He scratched his chin. "What's it called again…?"

Ren nodded, taking mental note of the method. "I understand, I think." He wasn't sure exactly how he was going to convey this information to Akechi, or if the boy would even want to do anything with it, but…it couldn't hurt. "What's the other method?"

"Right." Maruki took a pen from his clipboard and spun it idly between his fingers, but it wasn't long before it slipped out of his grasp and rolled under the couch. "Uh…" he gave a little chuckle, and continued. "Well, assuming that as you said, there's a visual element…" Another pause, a breath. "Some people do like to see a visual manifestation of emotional pain. I think that's fairly understandable. It might help to…" And he stopped, squirming in place as he dug through the pockets of his long white coat in a small frenzy, finally digging out a red dry erase marker whose cap was mysteriously absent. "Use something like this." He held out his palm again, drawing a small, faded red line across his skin. "It might capture…the same visual effect, for a while."

Ren nodded, and there was something of a sickness in the pit of his stomach at the memory of Akechi's signature jacket covered in deep red stains. The reality of it. His hand on his left wrist. How long? How severely, and how privately? How many wounds had he been hiding for so many years, for his whole life? He was just a kid, probably still just in middle school when it all started, and he was pushing himself halfway to death.

And how different had it been for Ren?

His bag rustled. "Are you okay, Ren?" Morgana's soft, reassuring voice. Ren wasn't alone. He wasn't alone, and he wasn't going to let Akechi be alone either, no matter how hard he tried. Kasumi wouldn't let him be alone, and Ren wouldn't either.

"Everything alright?" Maruki's eyes, concerned and patient. His voice was steady and assuring. It was safe.

"Yeah," Ren muttered, his voice almost gasping for air with each syllable forced out. "I think…it might help. Thanks, doc." He stood from the couch, grateful to find his legs steady enough to carry his weight. "Oh, and…" he reached up, twisting a lock of hair between his fingers. "When you're spinning your pen like that, it's uh…all about keeping up the momentum."

"Keeping up momentum," Maruki said with a big smile and enthusiastic nod. "I like that."


Infinitely grateful for Jane today, she not only churned out her always lovely chapter notes in record time but also wrote the entirety of the Maruki scene in the span of two and a half hours. She's an absolute legend and I couldn't ask for a better co-author.

I'd also like to throw a shoutout to Rabbittanksparkling's own trans-focused rewrite fic, Shine On. I don't believe it's on this site quite yet, but it's well worth the read regardless.