CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains descriptions of physical abuse, alcoholism, self harm, suicide and implied sexual assault of a minor. While not graphic, this content still may be difficult or upsetting to read, so please take breaks or skip sections as needed. Stay safe.


10/30 – Sunday
Afternoon
Cafe Leblanc

Sojiro reclined as far as his stool behind the counter allowed him. "Niijima, huh?" He and Ren were currently alone in the cafe, though they weren't the only ones in the building. Makoto, Akechi, Futaba and Morgana were all upstairs, working on setting up the hot plate and getting things organized.

Ren nodded, adjusting in one of the booths. "Yeah. It was Makoto's idea, if you're worried about that." It felt a little bit scandalous to talk about her when she wasn't there, but Makoto had already given the go-ahead on telling Sojiro. Or, well, she'd stared at him until he'd stopped stammering, and then she shrugged. Which...was as close to a confirmation as he could expect, given the tension rolling off of her.

"I wasn't," Sojiro said. "But that's good to know." He plucked a wooden stirring stick from a jar on the coffee bean shelf, and bit down on the end, chewing it as he thought. Ren blinked. Huh. Maybe...something to curb a smoking habit? The man sometimes smelled of nicotine, but Ren had never actually seen him with a cigarette. "So, if I'm remembering right, that means Sae is hiding from something?" Sojiro sighed around the stick. "Any idea what?"

"Not yet," Ren said. "It's..." He pursed his lips. "Actually, kind of. Bits and pieces. I know something happened between her and Makoto." A golden monument to a pair of shattered glasses. "And for whatever reason, the core of her Palace is her dad's police notebook."

Sojiro raised an eyebrow. "Her father's-" he began to reply, before he abruptly gagged on the stirring stick. "Damnit." He pulled it from his mouth and glared at the inanimate object for a moment before returning his attention to Ren. "Did I tell you about how I met her? I feel like I have, but...never can be too sure, at my age."

Ren resisted the urge to ask the man if memory loss usually set in at 45. "I don't think so."

"Right." Sojiro's gaze wandered up towards the ceiling. "Oh. Right, yeah, makes sense that I didn't." He smiled in an odd, wry way. "Considering it was Wakaba who introduced me."

Wakaba. That did explain why Sae knew about Futaba, but...hm. Sojiro wouldn't have told him because he–

Ren resisted the urge to smack himself in the face. Sojiro was right in front of him, and he trusted the man. There was no point prying into the answers to questions he would gladly answer if asked. "Is it a sore spot?"

Sojiro's face curled in an odd way, like a wince meant more for ambivalence than revulsion. "It's...well..." He sighed out a little laugh. "I wasn't comfortable telling you and Futaba about that until this last Thursday." Thursday. Omelet breakfast. And...

It clicked. Wakaba met Sae because of Futaba's dad. Which meant: "she got a restraining order?"

"Bingo," Sojiro sighed. "It took her a while to. We'd talked about it for a while, mostly for Futaba's sake, but...well, Wakaba always had her own reasons for things." He chuckled. "She'd just shake her head, tell me it was all in due time. She'd get to it when she got to it. Wouldn't say anything more. I don't know if that was more patience or stubbornness."

Sojiro spun the stirring stick between his fingers. Turning it over and over and over. "This was...geez, only four years ago? Feels like longer." He chuckled. "Niijima was a pretty new lawyer then. She wasn't a prosecutor just yet, but well on her way to being one. Just passed the bar the year before."

He rolled his neck, gaze distant. "I went to visit Wakaba that day, and there was this...twenty-something on her couch, all stuffy and strict business, listening to her ramble about cognitive dissonance with this..." He waved a hand in front of his face. "Completely empty. Followed the conversation like a champ though, just...didn't react one bit. It was surreal."

"That sounds like it," Ren said with a smile. He didn't know Sae well enough to say that behavior scanned, but from what he knew about her sibling? He could completely imagine Makoto doing something like that.

"Wakaba didn't introduce me until ten minutes after I got there," Sojiro said, chuckling through the words. "But it was pretty much just the her and Sae show the whole way through." His smile was odd, as melancholic as it was soft. "Wakaba always had the strangest way with people. She'd talk for three hours and somehow you still ended up opening up to her halfway through it."

He lifted the stirring stick, closed one eye to aim, and tossed it towards the trash can. It bounced off the rim. Sojiro sighed and stood, crossing over, picking it up and placing it into the receptacle. "But I don't suppose her taste in sushi would help you in her...castle thing."

"Palace," Ren said with a smile, waiting for Sojiro to stop grumbling at the correction before he continued. "I don't think so, no. Mostly anything you know about Makoto or their dad."

"Not much," Sojiro said, rubbing his goatee. "She didn't talk about their father, beyond the basic details. He used to be a cop, died in a car crash a few years back. I know she only had good things to say about Makoto, but that was all..." He scrunched up his face. "Accomplishments. Nothing actually about her, if that makes sense."

Ren nodded. "Yeah." The code in the Palace. Another tally on that particular mystery.

A little woeful smile. "We talked about her bringing Makoto sometime to meet Futaba, or babysitting her sometime. They were both in middle school, only a couple years apart. But...it never ended up working out. Sae was always too busy. And then..." Sojiro gestured at nothing. "Wakaba passed. Sae was...she was helpful, through that. Made sure all the adoption paperwork was in order, things like that."

A long pause. "I don't know that I ever saw her grieve. We weren't the closest, but Sae was always..." He sighed. "Like she was running. Maybe from her dad, maybe something more. She never wanted to talk about the past. Only the future."

"That makes sense," Ren said, letting his idle thoughts slip past his lips. A horrible sort of sense. "Makoto's like that too."

"They're siblings," Sojiro snorted. "Of course she is."

Before Ren could even formulate another word, the bell above the door rang. And out of the corner of his eye, a familiar flash of red hair. "Hi Ren!" Kasumi chirped. And right behind her...Sumire, who waved over her sister's shoulder.

"Hey," he said, breaking into a huge grin. "Glad you could make it."

Ren scooted out of his booth, making it to standing just as Kasumi made it to him. Without a word, and before he had a chance to react, she grabbed him in a tight hug. He couldn't even hug back, she'd managed to pin his arms to his sides.

"Uh, so, Sojiro," a barely stifled laugh bubbling out between every syllable. "This is Sumire Yoshizawa. Kasumi's sister." He gestured to the girl with his head, narrowly avoiding bonking his skull against Kasumi's.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Sojiro," Sumire said, standing in place a foot in front of the door. "Your son and daughter have been very good to my sister. I am grateful for that. You should be proud of them."

Ren couldn't think to do anything but blink across the cafe at her, as Sojiro responded with a deep and genuine laugh. "Of course I am," he said, voice hearty, beaming at the girl. "For that, and a whole lot more."

Oh. Cool. Big smiles from that. Kasumi let go of him to face Sojiro, and he almost collapsed on the spot. "I'm sorry I didn't ask earl-earlier," she said, bowing her head slightly. "But would you be alr-alright with keeping Sumire company? I would inv-invite her to the hot pot, but..." She trailed off oddly. Ah. Right.

"Phantoms business," Sumire cut in. Kasumi went stock still, her face paling. Ren's breath abruptly caught in his throat, sending him into a mild coughing fit. "Bless you," she said before turning back to Sojiro. "I'm not a Thief. And it would be overwhelming with all the people up there. I'd rather be down here, where it's quiet."

"Sumire, I don't, Boss, er, Mister Soj-Sojiro doesn't, he–" Kasumi stuttered, before Sojiro cut her off with a deep and honest laugh.

"Kasumi, it's alright, take a breath," he said, raising his hands in a 'settle down' sort of motion. She did, sucking in a sharp inhalation and holding it, letting out a much softer exhale. "Ren and Futaba told me about them being Phantom Thieves. You don't need to worry, no one's in trouble."

"Oh," Sumire said, glancing towards her sister, pursing her lips. "I'm sorry. I'd assumed that was the case. I didn't mean to scare you."

Kasumi forced a smile, shaking her head. "It's alr-alr-alr..." She interrupted herself with another breath, frowning slightly.

"No harm, no foul?" Ren suggested, and Kasumi nodded vigorously.

"None!" she chirped.

"And to answer your question," Sojiro continued, "it would be my genuine pleasure." He smiled at Sumire. "I wouldn't normally do this without Futaba, but since she's going to be stuffing herself on hot pot upstairs, it shouldn't be an issue. How would you like to help me make some curry?"

Sumire paused, tilting her head, considering that. "Four servings at least," she said. "Dinner for you, me and Kasumi; she won't be eating the hot pot. And leftovers for Futaba so she doesn't feel left out."

Sojiro blinked at her. "Miss Yoshizawa," he said, breaking into another wide and genuine smile. "I like the way you think."


Ann arrived last, and she ascended the stairs with the world's biggest grin. "Kasumi," she said, the moment she was within sight of the girl. "Your sister is such a sweetheart, oh my gosh."

Kasumi beamed back with her entire face. "She is," she said, almost a joyous whisper.

"Sumire has a wonderful way with people," Akechi agreed. He was seated slightly outside of the loose circle that had formed around the hot pot, up on the couch. The only one of the attended Thieves who hadn't served himself, his bowl still resting on the side table next to him. He took a small sip of coffee. "She's...frighteningly charming, I suppose."

Ann took a few steps towards Makoto, and then paused. Lips pursed. And she scooted past her, past Haru and then plopped down between Ren and Ryuji.

"Hey–" Ryuji said, and then stifled his own protest. Probably catching the odd, lingering tension dancing across Ann's expression. "Uh. Never mind. Here." He handed her the last bowl.

Makoto stared into the bubbling broth as Ann served herself. No one else said a word. Haru on her right, Yusuke on her left, both giving her as much space as they reasonably could without distorting the circle. Despite the relative proximity they all shared, Makoto still looked distinctly on her own. Alone among friends.

"Before we begin," she said, her voice catching oddly. She paused to clear her throat. "I'd like to give carte blanche for any of you to leave during this." Ren blinked at her, catching more than a few confused and concerned glances out of his periphery. "I trust each and every one of you with my past. Even if I am...scared, I do trust you. I intend to make good on that trust."

"We trust you too," Morgana said, perking up from Ren's lap. "Don't forget that."

Makoto smiled ever so slightly, but it faded. Legs crossed, hands on her knees. A nearly untouched bowl in front of her. "Beyond the fact that most of the Thieves have dealt with...the sort of parental abuse I'll be touching on," she buffered the rest of her sentence behind a hard swallow, "many of you also have...very damaging experiences with the police."

Ah. Ren rubbed his left arm, massaging the safe side of his wrist, his scar pressed against his leg. He almost flinched as Ann's shoulder bumped against his, catching a concerned glance from her out of the corner of his eye. He threw her a bit of a smile, hoping she'd catch the implication. He was fine. Nothing to worry about.

"If I hold myself back, then this would be...pointless," Makoto continued. "I can't give myself that sort of out. So...I need you all to...do what you have to, to make sure this doesn't..." She gestured at nothing. "I just need you to know that shying away from this story, or deciding not to listen, won't offend me. That's all."

Ren opened his mouth, a reassurance forming on his tongue, a promise that they'd stay despite that. And it froze there. He closed his mouth. Makoto wasn't asking for that sort of promise. This wasn't a condition, or some sort of test. It just genuinely felt...kind. A warm embrace to make the bad news go down easier.

He ran his hands idly across Morgana's fur, the cat's thrumming purrs radiating into his legs. "Gotcha. Thanks, we'll all keep that in mind." A silent, pointed glance across the Thieves. He could see the seeds of similar worry wither in Yusuke, Ann, Ryuji and Kasumi's eyes as they caught his drift. No further protest. "The floor's yours, Makoto."

She didn't react at all to that. Not for a long few seconds. "It's blurry," Makoto said, finally. "What I do remember. It's almost all...indistinct. Bits and pieces." She closed her eyes, frowning, like chasing a memory. "Sae left the house after she graduated high school, that was a month before my seventh birthday. And I was eleven when our father died. Each one was...like the end of an epoch, almost. Before Sae left. The years when she was gone. And the years after our father passed."

A deep breath, pausing for thought. Makoto opened her eyes. "We're technically half-sisters. Sae's mother left long before I was born, and mine died soon after. I think that might have been the source of my father's favoritism. That, or..." She pursed her lips. An ugly truth, unsaid. Lingering in the space between words. "I was the golden child. Her Shadow was right about that." Makoto took her bowl and scooted it to the side, then pulled her legs in towards her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. "When he'd come home, drunk, he would...Sae took the brunt of it. She'd protect me. Rile him up, argue and yell, and I'd just sit in the corner of my room, and cover my ears, and wait. And...well, it worked. But I wasn't exempt."

A hiss of a wince from Ryuji. "Yeah. Fuckers like that just love listening to their own damn selves."

Makoto's distant gaze was cold, and devoid of emotion. An awful sort of empty. "Sae still wanted his approval. We both did. She wanted...to work alongside him. That was why she went to law school, that was why she studied as hard as she did. Every waking moment."

"I underst-understand that," Kasumi said, almost a whisper. "It's...never-ending."

A shudder traced through Makoto; maybe an attempt at a nod. "When Sae left, it got...worse. My father still blamed everything on her. He'd concoct these crazy stories, these...bullshit reasons why she was a monster, an ungrateful child, all of that. And I played along. I had to. It was either that, or..." Makoto swallowed. "I lost four years. I can remember my fifth birthday so vividly, but I can barely remember anything about those years. I didn't journal, I didn't talk with anyone. I was just...dead. Inside and out."

Makoto let the silence linger. Morgana purred steadily. Ryuji tilted his bowl back and took a long, impossibly quiet sip of broth. Futaba leaned forward and spooned herself another serving, her expression tense; Kasumi leaned into her as soon as the girl returned to her seat, her frown a silent promise. Yusuke looked both serene and distinctly mournful. Akechi simply frowned, fingers tapping away at his leg, like the whole story was distantly distressing. Haru was just barely out of reach, a caring sort of patience, like she would cross the distance and embrace her friend as soon as permission was given. And Ann just sat and stared, both hands holding her bowl like it was the only remnant of warmth in a frigid world, her blue eyes so infinitely soft and shining with indistinct tears.

"He was probably drunk when he died," Makoto said, finally. A little ounce of well-earned spite leaked into her tone. "Not that anyone cared to check. It was a horrible tragedy, because of course it was. A cop died."

Ren couldn't help the little, microscoping scoff of a laugh that drifted out of him. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Of course."

A bitter sigh drifted out of her. "I went into Sae's custody. I don't know if that was her decision, or just because none of my mother's family cared enough to come for me. Either way..." She pursed her lips. "That police notebook was one of the things Sae got from him. I'd seen him using it, day after day, but after he died? I only ever saw it at his funeral. One of his... friends handed it over to her. And then it vanished. I still don't know what she did with it. Or what was inside."

The notebook. Sae's Treasure. Whatever it was, whatever it contained, it had festered in her subconscious. Something like that...it couldn't be pretty.

Makoto breathed in and out, strained. Something finally cracking in that stone veneer. "She raised me on her own. All through law school. She...Sae changed her name, then. Part of her transition." Transition. Ren blinked. Oh. That was news. "She used to go by her mom's last name. She always did. And then...after he died? She finally called herself Niijima. He never would have signed off on that. Maybe that was why. Or...maybe it was her way of honoring him."

Yusuke frowned. "Did she ever explain that to you?"

Her expression curdled momentarily, and then drained into something almost sick. "No. Either way...it was good between us, for a little while. Sae was stressed, always busy, but she was still so kind. We fought sometimes, but we always made up." Makoto's eyes glazed over. "That didn't last." A shuddering breath escaped her. "She was twenty-three when she passed the bar. Young, two years past the minimum age. I think she was on pace for bare minimum, before taking me in. I was thirteen. And that year, after she graduated, I finally...tried to talk to her about our father."

She closed her eyes again. This time, chasing away tears. Ren could see them blooming at the corners of her eyelids. "I'd been putting the pieces together. I finally had friends, finally started to talk to people, a little bit. Slowly realized that what happened to us wasn't...normal. That most kids my age had never been hit by their fathers. Had never been threatened. Had never been..." She let go of her knees with one arm, and reached up to massage her collarbone. The implication sent a stiff jolt down Ren's spine.

"You wanted her to list-listen?" Kasumi asked, so soft and so very kind.

"I wanted guidance," Makoto said. "I wanted her to...I don't know. Anything. To tell me I wasn't crazy. That it wasn't normal. That she was hurting the same way I was." A laugh that sounded more like a sob. "She was deeper in denial than I was. It wasn't just that Sae thought our father was a fucking saint, she didn't want to ask if he could have been anything less. And when I wouldn't stop asking..." Her voice trailed off. Strained and horrible. "We got in a fight. A big one. That was..." She ran a hand lightly across her face. "I didn't wear contacts back then. And I don't even...she didn't hit me, didn't even touch me, but she was yelling and got in my face, and I just..." A shudder eclipsing her voice. "I panicked. Tried to run out the front door. She had to hold me down so I didn't...jump down our apartment stairs. That was how my glasses broke; the monument in her Palace, that's what that was. The moment she decided...that I was dead to her."

"Makoto," Ann whispered, her voice breaking.

A horrible, strained laugh. "Sae didn't didn't change her mind. She just kept looking for reasons to discredit me. From that day onward, for weeks , everything I did was...another reason why I'd invented our father's abuse. I was an attention seeker. Waste of space. A burden. I was troubled and violent and confused, my head wasn't in the right place. She'd...she never would have said anything like that before. But it..." Another giggle, choking on a sob. "As long as you continue insisting on this idiotic fantasy, Makoto, then you're not worth everything I've done for you." She opened her eyes, saline flowing freely down her cheeks. "I can still hear it so vividly."

"Fuck," Ryuji muttered, his voice a near growl. "That's...fuck, what the fuck is wrong with her? I mean, I know that she's..." He trailed off, meeting a pointed glance from Haru.

Makoto wiped at her face, sniffling, that awful strained smile wavering with every shudder, every breath. "I know. And I still want to save her. I still...yes, I want her to hear me. I want her to admit that I was abused, that we were both abused. But...fuck, I just want her to be okay. Because this..." She placed a hand over her heart, grabbing tight onto her shirt, like the garment was constricting her breath. "Trying to run from this almost killed me. And I can't lose her. Sae...she's given up on herself, but I won't give up on her. I know that sounds crazy. After all she's done, after...all she's said. I just want to forgive her." She raised her gaze towards the Thieves, something horrid and hopeful and terrified in her expression. "I'm not being tricked. Sae's not manipulating me. She's...she's a victim too."

Oh. Oh fuck. Ren stared at her, stared at his teammate, as logic slid cleanly into place. Madarame and Okumura; both of them family to a Thief, both abusive pieces of shit. And Yusuke and Haru had wanted, at first, to save them, before they had opened their eyes to exactly how horrible they were. And it was the Thieves who had encouraged them to do so, had pushed them to consider their lives outside of their abusers' influence. And even though there was no doubt a hundred reasons why Makoto had kept all this from them until now, at least one of them was now becoming clear.

She didn't want them to take Sae away from her. To ruin a good thing. To make her hate her sister. Makoto was begging them to spare her innocence .

Ren tensed his fingers, forcing himself to focus. To find the right words. To soothe that fear, somehow . To help his teammate, his friend , through this.

But Haru moved before his brain could catch up. She scooted across the attic floor, right up to Makoto, who tensed like a cornered animal. "Makie," she said, both kind and firm. "Hands?" And held out her own, palms up. Patient, and safe. The same way Ann had done for her in that barbeque restaurant earlier that month.

Makoto stared down at the offered touch. And she slowly, carefully, adjusted herself, reached out and took Haru's hands. The gesture was somewhat meek, but Haru's own assuredness made up for that fact.

"Look at me," Haru said. "I'm here. You know me, Makie." Ren could see the edge of her smile, and it was as radiant as sunset. "You can trust me. I promise you can."

Makoto just nodded; for all intents and purposes stricken dumb. Not a single sound escaped her.

"And," addressing the room with a quick glance over her shoulder, "any of you can correct me if you wish to. But I think I speak for all of us when I say this." Haru turned back towards Makoto, the latter shying away slightly from the former's undivided focus, though neither let go. "Makoto Niijima. I am not going to let you die. Nor am I going to let you suffer. Not while I can prevent either. There is very little I would not do to ensure that."

Another twinge of softness, like a drizzle of honey to ease the unyielding sentiment of her words. "But I won't stop you from choosing your own path. I'll probably get in your way a little, make sure you know if you're being a big dummy." She giggled, a laugh awkwardly echoed by the nearby Ryuji. "But if you tell me that you want to fight this battle alone, even if I think it's a bad idea, I won't stop you. None of the Thieves are ever going to stop you."

"Damn right," Futaba said. Quiet, but crisp. Clear.

"Maybe you should," Makoto said, breathing out the words more than speaking them, her frail voice a distant breeze. "Maybe...maybe I'm an idiot." Her eyes were welling with tears again, and she screwed them shut. "Maybe you should..."

Ren's breath caught on a furious spark, warming and crackling in his throat. Fuck being silent. "Are you asking for our opinion?" he said. His voice almost cracked; he didn't realize how long it had been since he last spoke. "Or are you just asking to take that choice away from you?"

Makoto's breath caught and she raised her shoulders to her ears, curling in on herself, still holding Haru's hands. "The...latter," she said. Like prying the words from a vice.

Akechi snorted from the couch, a sound which made Ren flinch slightly, that drew the eyes of the room towards him. "Got something to say, pretty boy?" Futaba snapped, her brow furrowed. Kasumi next to her pursed her lips, but said nothing.

"Always," Akechi said. He didn't even look at Futaba. His gaze was solely on Makoto. "And especially now. Because I'm fairly confident I see where this conversation is going." He threw a glance towards Ren. "You're going to refuse to take that autonomy from her, from your friend, even if she is begging you for it. Because you refuse to be unkind, refuse to cause harm, even to cauterize a gaping wound." He half-spat out the words, odd and idle vitriol swimming around his tone. Something...not quite right. He wasn't angry. He sounded desperate. Why did he sound so fucking desperate?

"Yeah," Ren said. He couldn't even work up the bitterness to give him a hard time for it. "Pretty much word for word. Thanks." A little spiteful note. Just a little.

A smirk, and then Akechi looked back to Makoto. "And even as I will play the part of a Thief," he continued. "I have no obligation to abide by such refusal." The mask of a smirk was unending. Where did it end? Where did Akechi begin? "And I will do as my justice demands. I would not defy my nature. If you are asking for someone else to choose your destiny for you, then by all means, allow me."

"Akechi." Ann's low growl, sending a shudder across Ren's knuckles. Her blue eyes flaring with fury and pain. She didn't have a chance to finish her threat.

"I will be the exception of all your soft and foolish friends." Akechi's near-red eyes were almost gleaming. Was that triumph? Or something deeper? "I will do the right thing." Allowing a pause the span of a long breath. As if Akechi enjoying the pull of gravity. Savoring the seconds before he jumped. Before he dragged them both off the side. "Shut up about saving your sister. She's a decade your senior, a grown adult who should be responsible for her actions - and you're an idiot to mope about how pained and victimized she is."

Akechi interrupted himself with a quick and bitter laugh; Ren's fingers curled tight against his legs, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping. Akechi wasn't wrong. He was being an insufferable prick, but he wasn't wrong. That was the worst part by a mile.

"So once her Palace falls," Akechi continued, almost scoffing out the words. Ren froze. "Leave her to sort out her own goddamn mess." He shrugged with half his body, a little laugh escaping him. "And if she never apologizes for her asinine treatment, then stop dragging your fucking feet waiting for it."

Silence.

Ren could see the gears turning behind Ann and Futaba's eyes. Makoto slowly raised her head, blinking, a perplexed expression on her face. Haru glanced slowly and steadily between her and Akechi, and Ren couldn't parse the feelings behind that steady gaze. Kasumi's eyes were locked on her friend, and her smile was wobbly and bright as anything.

Yusuke cleared his throat. "For the sake of...clarity. You are recommending that Makoto, and the Thieves, continue infiltrating Sae's Palace, yes?"

Akechi rolled his eyes, a little involuntary giggle slipping out of him. "Naturally. Our dear teammate was asking for someone to decide her path forward. But, of course, she's already on a path." Pointed and sharp, his words clearly directed towards Makoto. "And it would be far more cowardice than stupidity for her to refuse to follow through on the commitments she has already made now, wouldn't it?" Smirking towards the target of his goading.

Makoto took a long, deep breath in. Scrunching up her eyes, and then relaxing her face. Something in her now...steady, that was so recently unmoored. "It would be," she said. Still quiet, but less so. Another breath. "I'll keep my promises. Every single one of them."

Her eyes flicked towards Ann, who tensed at the gaze. Fear? Pride? Longing? Ren couldn't tell. Maybe all at once. "I'll make my sister change her heart. And after that..." Makoto pursed her lips. "After that, it's up to her. I won't wait for her any longer." She rolled her shoulders back. Spine straight. Breath unyielding. "Sae is important to me. I won't take that back. But I can't let this, let her...define my life." A tiny, almost imperceptible smile danced across her lips. But it was there. "I'll keep moving forward, no matter what she decides. That's my path."

"Fuck yes it is!" Ryuji said, throwing a jolt into the lingering tension. "Fuck, god, fucking..." He gestured frantically at nothing, grinning the whole time. " Stop being so fucking cool!

Makoto stared at him. One second. Two. And then she burst out laughing. Giggling and snorting and smiling with her eyes, holding tight onto Haru's hands, leaning into that simple embrace. It was a tack driven carefully into the tension of the room, slowly letting it out with the silliest, saddest wheeze. Every ounce of worry drained from Ren's chest. Breaths he hadn't realized he had been holding. Anxiety that had disguised itself beneath his heartbeat. All of it...gone.

Haru let go, Makoto's hands falling to her sides with an abrupt gravity, like a puppet with the strings cut. Without a word, she scooted to the side, her pointed gaze traveling all the way around the circle...to Ann, whose expression conveyed something like twelve emotions at the same time. Makoto's eyes locked on her too.

Ann carefully put her bowl to the side. She stood. Makoto just watched as the girl walked around the circle - Haru moving farther out of the way to make room - and sat down next to her. Not a word. But when Ann reached over and took one of Makoto's hands in hers, fingers interlocking, it was more than enough. Makoto leaned over, nestling her head against Ann's shoulder. Lips moving, something too quiet for the rest of them to hear, even in the quiet room. And whatever it was, Ann's careful, wobbly smile was all the brighter for it.

And, besides for Morgana's purring and the bubbling of broth, the room once again descended into a steady silence. It was...kinder. Ren could roll his shoulders back, breathe the aromatic air without struggling to find the oxygen buried within some pervasive tension. He could find comfort once more in the proximity of his partners, in the lovely company filling the space.

Out of that silence came a light, almost anxious voice. Kasumi, rocking gently back and forth in her seat. "Um, um… can I… ask som-something?"

Ren nodded. "Of course. You're one of us, you can ask anything you want." He gave a calm smile, pushing back the distant fears of the worst-case scenario.

Kasumi's eyes fell on Akechi. Okay. Not completely assuaging those worst-case fears.

"I was thi-thinking," she started. "It's like… the hot pot, right? Everyone is sup-supposed to share their stories." She smiled, equal parts afraid and hopeful. "But uh. They um. Haven't yet." Glancing down at her feet.

Ah. They… as in…? Ren shook his head. No, nevermind. She was right. It had just sort of slipped his mind with all the chaos since Akechi's joining, and… the general personality the prince put forth most of the time, especially around the Thieves.

"Uh, yeah! Totally, if uh. If he wants to. Akechi?" Ren smiled nervously, not entirely able to fixate his gaze on the boy seeming to stir his nearly-empty coffee cup in endless circles.

Kasumi jolted upright from her seat. "Right! Uh! No pr-pressure!"

The boy nodded, uncharacteristically silent for awhile, just… stirring. A little smile slowly grew across his face, one Ren couldn't determine the nature of. Amused? Uncomfortable? He was sure Akechi would make his feelings known, he'd never hesitated on that so far, but his silence drove a spike of anxiety into Ren regardless.

"So," he finally said, his voice almost… trembling? "Let me ensure I have the concept correct here. Each of you goes around in a circle like the world's most depressing improv troupe and dumps your respective lifetimes of trauma onto the table. You all pat each other on the back, and then go home, assuming you now know each other." His face curled up with some sort of vague irritation. "Is that more or less accurate?"

"I don't really like the way you put it," Ann said, tone firm, but not yet angry. "You're acting like it's stupid. But it actually helps us get closer together." She clicked her fingers against the floor's hard surface. "And last I checked, you're pretty desperately in need of some friends."

A little chuckle out of the detective. Okay, that was new. Count that alongside the many other tallies for Ann impressing Ren. "Fair enough," Akechi said, that distinct lilt of pleasant fakeness to his tone. "But I still think it's a stupid fucking idea." Just a little bit of venom in those blatantly venomous words. Ren just… couldn't get a handle on him.

"You don't have to participate," Ren finally cut in, gathering the courage to hopefully put the issue to bed. A little bit of spite would hopefully help. "It's not like you're making an effort to be like the rest of us anyway, right?" Words he regretted almost as soon as he said them, wincing into the touch of his boyfriend.

"Yeah, man," Ryuji affirmed. "Let's just eat in peace, okay? Let's drop it." His gentle, diplomatic tone a little surprising for Ren, especially for someone mocking the Thieves and their traditions. Still, he was infinitely grateful for his boyfriend's ability to take over for him while his mind consumed itself in the typical anxious spiral.

And then there was once again silence, for awhile. Just the clacking of plates and forks and the stirring of that stir spoon in a half-empty cup of coffee.

And then Akechi finally piped up again.

"You want to know my past," he said, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. Still stirring the contents of that cup. "Fine. Why not? It'll be fun ." His body seemed to shake, almost impossible to notice at first. "Oh, where do I begin? Well, beloved politician Masayoshi Shido kept a mistress who he left hung out to dry after she gave birth to me, holed up in a tiny apartment without enough food to eat. And then my mother died." He shrugged, simple as anything. "Hardly a surprise. I could see her fucking ribcage whenever it wasn't covered up. She was frail. Sickly. I was practically waiting for her to croak." He shook his head, erratic chuckling at the words.

"Akechi," Ren began, but he was steamrolled as the prince continued.

"The orphanages quickly realized I was a bastard child. An easy target. The kind you can kick and punch and steal from and lock in the closet and the worst you'll get is a finger wag from some exasperated worker who doesn't want to discipline you." Still stirring that cup. More and more fervently. His eyes fixated on it, refusing to leave, refusing to look at anything else. "Don't waste any tears, though. I was a boy after all. And boys tend to play rough. So it's hardly a problem. A couple scrapes and blisters and a broken bone or two." A giggle, almost devolving into laughter as he shook his head, regaining some amount of control. "When I cried too much or made a fuss or, heaven forbid, had a panic attack in the night, the adults charged with my care would sometimes lay their hands on me as well." A smile, as warm as the ones on TV. "That was just how it was."

"That wasn't right," Ann started to mumble, but she too seemed swept away by the side of the boy's ranting.

Akechi just shook his head, staring into that cup at some kind of distant memory. "When I was ten," he started. "I attempted suicide for the first time." A quick breath. Shaky. Erratic. "When I was fifteen, I took my first life. When I was sixteen, I got my own apartment. When I was seventeen, I attempted suicide for the second time." A laugh after that, louder than the others. Enough to cause Ren to recoil, just a bit. "No one was there to stop me that time. Yet, somehow, I still failed."

"You shouldn't have…" Ryuji began, shaking his head. "No, I mean, like. You didn't. It was… all that shit was messed up. It's not… your fault."

Akechi seemed to smile at that, but Ren couldn't tell if he was happy or angry or amused. He just kept stirring. "I didn't get my escape," he said quietly. "All I gained from those attempts was…" his hand tightened around the stir, and it slipped from his grasp, sliding back into the cup with a loud clatter. "Let's say… a bizarre fixation with blood."

Ren's mind instantly shot back to that room in the SRU headquarters. Tan sleeves soaked in dark red. He tried to peel himself away from the memory.

Akechi took another quick breath, erratic and filled with the starts of cut-off laughter. It had been an eery thing, at first, but it almost broke Ren's heart the more he heard it. Like faint cries for help. Or maybe that was just in his head.

"In accordance with Shido's employment," he continued. "I began a very public career. Every day, I ditch my studies at school to shake hands with the most vile sorts of human trash; exactly the kind of people you are all working yourselves to death to bring down. If any of you were in my shoes, I doubt you'd be able to stomach their presence without jumping into the Metaverse to hunt down their Shadows." He smiled, wider this time. "They don't respect me. Just like my old caretakers, they see me as a convenient opportunity, a product." He gripped the spoon in his coffee cup, white-knuckling the metal handle. "My appearance is finely curated to meet their expectations, you know. They need to be able to put my pictures in magazine spreads for women much older than me to gawk at."

Haru shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I know the feeling," she muttered softly. "Of… keeping up public appearances."

That was enough to get his eyes to leave his cup. Dropping the spoon with a clatter, a quick and almost deadly motion as his eyes seemed to glow with a reddish flame, starring daggers into the girl. "Oh, do you? Then you must know what a relief it is. You must know how you can never complain, because really, it's all quite charming, right? It's a compliment to be told you're a very handsome young man, and older women look at you with adult eyes. It's very encouraging, right?"

"Akechi," Ren said again, firm and louder this time. He wasn't going to stand by and let the prince lash out at his loved ones, emotional breakdown or not. Haru sent a gentle smile his way, a soft and sympathetic glance. A silent way to say "it's alright." At least, he hoped so.

Akechi shook his head, letting go of the spoon and allowing it to slip effortlessly back into the cup. "Yes, it's very nice to be lusted after," he continued, staring down helplessly at his cup. Arms by his sides. "I've known that feeling since long before I became a celebrity. A woman who once took care of me was very insistent that I was quite mature for my age."

Oh no. Ren's mind immediately followed the implication, and… before he could piece together any semblance of a response, Akechi had already shoved his chair away from the table in a single, sudden movement.

"It's fine," he said. "It's fine." His eyes which had been so fixated on that spoon in his cup seemed to dwell for a moment on the knife by his plate, before he shook his head again. "I had to teach myself to kill innocent people and somehow not think about what that meant. To top all of that off, I've now joined with a group of individuals who make their business in psychologically manipulating others however they see fit, stealing their very agency out from under them, and I'm baffled that even among a crowd like that I am the biggest villain of the batch, and even more baffled that I could desire your respect. Shall I continue? Or is that sufficient?" Even with the prince hiding his face, Ren could see the gleam of tears streaking across his cheeks. "Should we simply eat now?"

There was silence throughout the table. And before anyone had even the slightest idea of what to say, he had turned, starting to leave.

Ren wasn't sure what to do. To go after him, to stay, to say something. Luckily for him, in this case, he didn't have to. In an instant, Kasumi was up and out of her chair, gently gripping her best friend's arm, touching him in a way Ren was all but certain he'd only allow her to do.

"Pl-please don't le-leave," she muttered softly. "For me." And there was silence for another while, just the quiet sounds of both of them crying. "Just… try and rel-relax now. You're safe. Nobody's go-going to be angry with you for saying that. You were just upset. I kn-know how it can feel. And it was brave. Really really brave."

He took a step back, closer to her. And in another second they were in an embrace. "S-sorry," Kasumi mumbled.

"Don't you dare," Akechi responded.

Ren was quiet, his internal gears stalling and grinding against each other before he could even submit the paperwork to start forming a proper sentence. But somehow, he got the words out. "I know it seems like nobody understands what you're going through," he said. "But trust me. All of us here have seen some shit. You know that. We can all relate in some small part to what you've been through. That doesn't mean we can help. But we can at least try. We can at least be there."

Haru nodded, beaming at him. "Well said," she said gently. "I believe we all know on some level what you're facing. It'll be hard, it always is. I know it was hard for me. But you'll make it." She giggled. "Or maybe you won't, but we hope you'll try anyway."

Ren almost had to double-take, but he was sure that was a genuine smile on Akechi's face now. "Well I'll be damned," the prince began. "One of you Thieves does have a sense of humor."

Akechi and Kasumi both turned to face the table, hand in hand. His hand a tight grip around hers, but Ren knew she was more than strong enough to reciprocate if she needed. "It's a nice thought," Akechi said, his smile vanishing as suddenly as it emerged. "But being related to is not what I want."

"Then what do you want?" Ren asked, gently brushing his hand along Morgana's fur.

"Sympathy is a curse," Akechi said with a shrug. "I've been given plenty of it. Toothless, robotic, rehearsed phrases of sympathy." Silence for awhile, as he seemed to consider Ren's question. "You don't have to accept me and you don't have to like me," he said. "But for once in my damn life I'd like to be seen for my earnest self." A faint smile. "Some small recognition that something genuine does exist behind all the masks. That somebody can see it."

Ren nodded. "We see you," he said. "As you. Not as the Detective Prince. Not as Shido's lapdog. We see our teammate."

Akechi smiled, something still somewhat unsatisfied in it, but seemingly not enough to object. "I am afraid," he said, almost too quiet to hear. "I don't want to be back with Shido. I'm honestly a little tired of lying," a bright and cheery fake smile, "despite it being all I know." He shook his head, quickly dropping the performance. "You can be assured that I won't slip up," he said. "I am very good at what I do. I just don't want to do it."

Ren nodded. "I understand," he said quietly, before his brain slapped itself in the face. "Or, well. I guess you'd prefer I say I don't? But, either way, I get what you mean. I'm sorry. You won't have to bury your true self forever, I promise."

"If I may," Haru said, raising her hand in a gentle, almost dainty motion to redirect their attention to her. A practiced trick, like a corporate investor at a stock meeting. "You said that you don't like changing hearts. If that's the case, what exactly was your plan for Shido?"

And Akechi smiled, a half-smirk and half-apologetic thing. "I'm sure you already know. I want to kill him." Laughter erupting, a gentle sobbing echoing through the sound. "More than anything, I want to kill him. He'd be the first victim of mine who truly deserves what he got."


The hot pot didn't last much longer. The soup had been starting to run low before Akechi had bared his heart, and afterwards, even the hot plate seemed to have lost its appetite - spluttering out roughly ten minutes later. And since 'cold pot' didn't have as nice of a ring to it, the Thieves finished off their portions and transported the rest downstairs to be divided into leftovers - Ann and Makoto staying behind to talk in the otherwise empty attic. And as soon as the rest of them made their way down the stairs, Sumire immediately hijacked the silence and left no room for mopery or indecision.

She was pushy in exactly the way they needed, apparently. And, after showing off a few slight-of-hand tricks he'd picked up over the last year, Ren stepped out of the limelight to a polite round of impressed applause; at which point Yusuke and Morgana took up center stage, the latter guiding the former through deeply amateur magic that Futaba insisted on attempting to subvert by yelling out the trick from the other side of the cafe. It was cramped, loud, and wonderful.

And Akechi wasn't anywhere to be seen. He definitely wasn't still upstairs, though it was hilarious to consider the detective stoically sipping coffee alone in a room with two infatuated crushes currently in the midst of navigating the complexities of their...relationship? Whatever the fuck Ann and Makoto were, at this point. Which means there was only one other place the Prince could reasonably be.

Ren slipped out through Leblanc's entrance, letting the sounds of excited mirth deafen behind the door. Sure enough, there was Akechi, across the way, inside the closed laundromat. Sitting in the dark, on a bench with his briefcase next to him, staring off towards the far wall.

"Hey." Ren crossed the sidewalk, slipped inside the laundromat and looked around for somewhere to sit. There wasn't another bench anywhere nearby. Rather than plop down on the concrete, he hopped up on one of the front-loaders. It creaked, but did not crumple - even full of soup, Ren was still pretty fucking light. "Are you hanging in there?"

"If I wasn't," Akechi replied, words sharp and tone empty, "do you think I would still be here? " He gestured to his immediate surroundings.

"Fair point," Ren said. Breath in, breath out. "Thank you for opening up to everyone back there. You didn't have to, and I appreciate it." He leaned back, palms against the top of the machine, tracing his gaze across the ceiling. "And I'm sorry for saying you aren't acting like one of us, or like...implying you don't belong here. It's...messy. All of this. And sometimes you're kind of a dick, but even then, you're still..." An ally? A friend? "You're still a Thief. I'm still glad you're here."

Akechi let those words linger for a long, long time. "The more I learn about you and your little entourage," he said, finally. "The less I seem to understand." A second-long sigh left him. "You're all the first people that I've told, naturally. But I've granted myself a few remarks over the years. Snide hints, here and there. Hiding behind a dark sense of humor, or my busybody nature; or, more recently, 'confidential cases' that might not actually exist. And, frankly, I thought I'd run the gamut of reactions. Disgust, amusement, horror, mockery; oh, and let's not forget about pity. I've received enough of that to last a dozen lifetimes."

Ren glanced down to find Akechi's gaze on him. Steady. Curious, maybe. "And yet," Akechi continued. "I have never once been thanked for such a thing. For turning noses, ruining appetites. For...rocking the boat."

Ren looked away. He waited until the words were fizzing on the tip of his tongue, until he was sure they were the right ones, before he spoke again. "Maybe they should have. Thanked you, I mean." He shrugged. "I'm a weirdo, I get that. We pretty much all are around here." He forced himself to meet the boy's eyes. "That doesn't make us wrong."

A smile. A laugh. "No," Akechi said. "It most certainly does not."


I want to give an enormous shoutout to Jane for writing the Akechi section of the hot pot scene, from "Out of that silence came a light, almost anxious voice." until the next line break. The scene was originally her and Jae's idea, and I felt that she was naturally the best person to see it realized. Also want to say a huge thank you to Jae for beta reading this chapter, and providing consistent love and support over this last month. It's been a really difficult time for me, and they and Jane have been absolutely wonderful.