—Chapter 13—Monday, May 9th, Late—

Jiro picked Ren's phone up off the floor of their dorm and held it to his ear. "Makoto? You still there?"

"Oh my god, Jiro, what the hell is happening!? I heard sirens!" Makoto was on the other end, frantic.

Jiro struggled to find the words. "Tetsuo's… Tetsuo's dead, Makoto. I can see his body in the alley, just outside the window. They're standing over him now."

Makoto was speechless. For a long while, Jiro held the phone, listening to Makoto's silence with one ear while he took in the sounds of commotion inside and outside his dormitory with the other. He started to worry he'd lost her. "Makoto?"

"I'm here," she said at last. "Tetsuo's… dead." From the way she said it, Jiro couldn't tell if it was a statement or a question. It sounded like she was trying out the words on her tongue, to see if they were real. To make sure that combination of words could actually exist.

"Yeah, Mako. He is." Jiro looked at Ren, passed out, face down in the bean bag chair. He looked at the lights flashing through his windows and painting his walls. He looked at his own stupid face in the mirror above the sink. He looked helpless. "What should I do?" he asked.

"Where is Ren?" asked Makoto.

Jiro looked back at Ren and nudged him with his foot. He was breathing, but didn't respond. "After he looked out the window and saw the body, he… he passed out. The bean bag chair in front of the window broke his fall, but he is out." He repeated his request for information: "What should I do?"

Makoto was silent for a moment. "Don't do anything yet," she said. "Just hang tight for now."

"I don't call the cops?" he asked.

"Jiro," Makoto said firmly. "Do you think Ren killed Tetsuo?"

"Well, I mean…"

"Do you think Ren killed Tetsuo?" she repeated, more strenuously.

"No! I mean, I don't think he killed him on purpose, but what the fuck else could have happened? They were just out there fighting, and now one of them is dead. How does that happen?"

"If you call the cops, he's done for. Do you understand that? They will take him away, and they will lock him up. If they think he killed all those other people, he'll be executed. Are you following what I'm saying to you? If you don't think he's the serial killer everyone is looking for, then you don't call the cops."

Jiro was silent. He stared at his unconscious friend, grappling with himself over what to do.

"Do you hear me, Jiro?" she asked, rousting him from his inner turmoil.

"I… I hear you," he said. "I won't call the cops. But then what do I do?"

"The cops are going to be crawling around there for a while," she said. "Lay low until morning, then, the two of you get to my house as quickly as you can. Pack a bag for him, because he's not going to be staying with you for a while."

"And you're sure you're not gonna be harboring a killer?"

"I am absolutely, one hundred percent positive. There is an explanation here. We just have to find it."

"We can't just let the cops find it?" he asked nervously. "I'm a little worried that I'm gonna be an accomplice if I keep quiet."

"You are saving his life by keeping quiet."

Jiro's pulse was racing. He had information pertaining to a dead body, and he was being told that if he gave up what he knew about it, his friend's life was at stake.

"Jiro."

He almost dropped the phone at the sound of his own name. "Okay," he said finally, relenting. "I'll pack a bag. I hope you're right about this. I like the guy, but jeez, I've only known him a month… I've known you for like, two weeks… You're just asking for a helluva lotta trust, that's all."

"I know I am. Thank you. I promise you won't regret it. Pack the bag, then try to get some sleep, if you can. Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day."

—Tuesday, May 10th, Morning—

As the light of dawn began to creep through the translucence of his eyelids, Ren stirred. His cheek was stuck to the plastic cover of the bean bag chair, and his glasses pressed painfully into the side of his face. Gradually, he found the strength in his arms to push himself up from this uncomfortable position, and took in the view of his room from this unfamiliar angle.

He'd had a strange dream. He'd been in the Metaverse, in Mementos, and Morgana was there. "Humans sure have some distorted desires," he said. "Am I really human? Do I want to be human?" He and Morgana had been running around, lost in Mementos, trying to find the source of the distortion, but every time they found a portal to take them to it, on the other side were just more endlessly spiraling subway rails. The farther they explored, the more they'd lost track of where the entrance was.

Distortion… Ren's head was foggy.

He studied his room. Standing upright next to the door was a suitcase—his suitcase. Ren shifted in his seat, prompting a plasticky groaning noise to emanate from the bean bag chair that had been thoroughly compressed over the course of the night. It was loud enough to penetrate the sleeping brain of his roommate, who shifted under his covers. Ren looked up at him.

After just a beat or two, Jiro popped up in bed, like a cartoon version of a jack-in-the-box going off. Jiro was wide-eyed, and he turned his head and locked eyes with Ren, who still looked dazed.

"We gotta go!" cried Jiro, crawling quickly out of bed and toward the ladder of his bunk. He used maybe two rungs of the ladder before jumping down the rest of the way and grabbing his coat. He was still in his clothes from yesterday.

"Come on, get up! We've gotta get you the hell out of here! Let's go!"

Ren started to move, but he still had a deer-the-headlights expression on his face. "What happened?"

Jiro stopped suddenly, fixing him with an incredulous stare. "Are you fucking kidding me? You don't have amnesia, do you? Just fucking move, I'll tell you on the way!"

Ren got up slowly and looked around. He was already fully dressed, with a coat, shoes, everything. He looked around for a hint of what he should do with himself.

"Here's your phone, dumbass!" shouted Jiro, ripping it from its cord and cramming the charger into the front pocket of Ren's satchel. He looked out each of the windows, making sure things were clear. "Alright, now fucking come!" he commanded, grabbing Ren by the sleeve of his jacket and jerking him toward the door.

Jiro slung Ren's satchel over his shoulder and opened the door. After taking a moment to scan the hallway, he reached behind him to grab Ren's suitcase with one hand and to pull Ren along with the other. He whispered frantically, "Move, you idiot, move!"

Ren shuffled his feet and stumbled into the hall. The bit of movement seemed to stir something in him, and he could feel his body again—he hadn't realized how numb he'd felt until he'd gotten the sensation shaken off. Jiro pushed him forward and he headed for the elevator.

It was only three floors, but it was by far the longest elevator ride of Jiro's life. When the doors finally opened, Jiro had to stop himself from running out into the lobby. Given all the shit he was carrying, he supposed he could probably have pretended he was late for a flight, but he thought it better to draw less attention to himself, so he slowed up a bit. Ren was at least keeping up.

They were up before the R.A., so there was no one to watch them leave, but Jiro didn't actually know what time it was. "Hey, what time is it?" he asked Ren. Jiro didn't want to have to find his phone.

Walking briskly behind Jiro, Ren lifted his arm and looked at his watch. "Six twenty," he answered.

"Okay, well, it's good that we're up early, but it means we have to walk. Move your feet, soldier. And take your fucking suitcase, I'm not your goddamn caddy!" he added, pausing to shove Ren's awkward suitcase at him. "Couldn't have sprung for something with wheels, huh? I hope you're regretting your life choices."

From the sidewalk outside, Jiro glanced left, toward the east alley next to their dorm. Police barricades had been set up at both ends of the dark alley. The sight triggered Ren's memories to come flooding back to him.

"Oh fuck," he said, faltering just a bit. "Oh shit…"

"Hey, don't freak out now," said Jiro. "Yeah, some shit happened, and I gather it's finally hitting you, but just keep it together, will you? We're heading to Makoto's place. She's got a plan or something, so it's gonna be alright. Just keep moving your feet and don't stop 'til we get there. Got it?"

"Uh huh," Ren grunted in acknowledgment, then picked up his pace.

The two walked for quite a while without speaking, and gradually, more and more of the sun lit their way. Jiro didn't actually know where Makoto lived, he just knew it was a few blocks from Naomi, so he guided them in that general direction until he knew they must be getting close.

Once he figured that they were near enough, Jiro finally spoke. "Okay, where does she live?"

"Couple blocks further," said Ren, between breaths. They'd been on the move for a while, and were beginning to get winded from all the hurried walking.

"Couple of blocks, okay, we can do this," said Jiro, trying to psych himself up a bit.

Soon, Ren pointed down a side street, and the two changed trajectory. A few houses in, Ren had them cross the street toward a small house with a fenced-in front courtyard.

"That her place?" asked Jiro. Ren nodded.

Stepping through the entry into the courtyard, Jiro walked right up to the front door and rapped on it a few times. They had to wait longer than Jiro wanted to, and he started bouncing awkwardly in place. "Shoulda texted her to say we were coming… Where's her bedroom? Can we knock on the window?"

Jiro's worries became obsolete as the door swung suddenly inward. Makoto stood there in her pajamas, wrapped in a bathrobe, and looked at the two of them for just a second before ushering them both inside.

"Well done, get in here," she said, shutting the door behind them. "How are you?" she asked no one in particular.

"Oh, I'm fucking great," replied Jiro sarcastically. "This dude has PTSD or something, so by comparison, I'm fucking golden."

Makoto looked at Ren. He was filthy, sweaty, and his hair was a mess. She ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He let his suitcase drop to the floor and hugged her back. "I didn't kill him…" he cried. "I swear to God I didn't kill him…"

"I know you didn't," she said, rubbing his back. "We'll figure out what happened. It's going to be okay."

Jiro flopped onto her couch and slipped Ren's satchel over his head, setting it next to him. He watched the couple sway in their embrace, but after a few seconds, he couldn't watch anymore. "This is sweet, and I feel for you guys, really I do, but I'm feeling really goddamn antsy, so if you could just break apart and help me understand what the plan is, I'd be mighty grateful."

Makoto kissed Ren on the cheek and released him from her hug. She pulled him over to the dining table and set him down in a chair. "I'll make some coffee," she said.

"Sounds good," said Jiro, even though he was pretty sure she wasn't talking to him. He got up from the couch so he could sit at the table with Ren, and at least be within eyeshot of Makoto. From his new seat, he could see the whole kitchen.

He pointed: "Is that the pantry?" Ren looked at him, barely turning his head. "Nice job man, looks good as new. Way to get in there."

Ren returned his gaze to in front of him, staring off into space.

"So, was it spacious in there? Or is it a tight fit, squeezing everything in? Come on, you can tell me."

Makoto looked over at the two men at her table, narrowing her eyes at them. "Are you speaking in code?" she asked. "Is the pantry supposed to be a metaphor for my vagina? Jesus, what's wrong with you two?"

Jiro and Ren looked at one another one more time, and ever so slightly, each of them began to crack, just a little, a smile playing at the corners of their mouths. Soon, the two men both burst into laughter. Ren dropped his head on the table, his shoulders quaking from the pent up emotion that was finally coming out. He wept.

With the coffee maker busy percolating away, Makoto took a seat at the table with them, watching. "Feeling better, guys?" she asked, but they were still laughing too hard to answer.

In the middle of the table was a remote to the small TV set up in the corner of her dining area. Makoto grabbed it, turning it to the local news channel and muting it. At the moment, they were covering commute traffic.

Soon, the two men had recovered their wits, and were sitting upright once again. Ren took a breath, and looked Makoto in the eyes. Placing his hand over the top of hers, he conveyed just with that one look everything she would've wanted to hear in that moment.

"So," she said, taking his hand and squeezing it. "Can you tell me what happened after Tetsuo jumped out at you?"

Ren swallowed, sitting up a little straighter. "Yeah, I think I can," he said. "He told me he was going to kill me. I forget exactly what he said, but it was something like 'I'm going to stab you so it'll look to everyone like the serial killer got you'. Then he said some very… unsavory things about what he was going to do to you after I was dead, since he would be the big supportive nice guy in my absence."

"What a prince," said Jiro.

"Yeah," said Ren. "He stabbed at me, and swiped at me with his knife. I was able to dodge everything, but I couldn't easily get within striking distance—he's a big guy. Or… he was…" Makoto squeezed his hand again. "Anyway, I thought if I could disarm him that maybe that would be it, so I backed up into the wall and taunted him. He fell for it, and when he stabbed at me, I ducked, so he ended up hitting the wall and dropping the knife. I grabbed it and threw it into the dumpster in the alley, but he was so out of his mind, he didn't back down. He would've beaten me to death if I'd let him get ahold of me."

"So how did you stop him without killing him?" asked Jiro. "I mean, assuming you didn't kill him…" he added, somewhat sheepishly.

"I did what I did to you when we were training, except I actually put some force behind it," he said. "With the butt of my knife, I punched him in the solar plexus—knocked the wind out of him."

"Is that it?" asked Jiro, after a moment.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. He knelt on the ground, heaving, I put my knife away, told him to stay the hell away from you, and left. I went inside, stopped in the bathroom, then went to our room and called you," he said, looking at Makoto.

"God dammit, I can't believe that you just carry a knife, like, all the time… Fuck," Jiro sighed. "Anyway, is there any chance that a blow to the solar plexus could kill someone?" he asked.

Ren shrugged. "I didn't think so…"

Jiro pulled out his phone. "Okay Google, can a punch to the solar plexus kill you?" His phone chirped, loading the search results. "Let's see," he said, scanning the answers. "According to 'Joe Knapp, Martial Arts and Biomechanics' something-something, 'Yes, it can absolutely be fatal'… from ," he said, looking up from his phone.

Ren and Makoto exchanged incredulous glances. "Keep reading," said Makoto.

"Okay… 'Making it a consistently fatal strike is another matter and not optimal if you're looking for a death touch'… 'death touch'… What the fuck…" he commented, editorializing as he scanned further into the post. "'…Primary recorded cause of death… "agitation of the heart"' what the fuck… 'Other most common possibility… lung puncture' yadda yadda…

"'More likely than death'," he read, increasing in volume, "'you'll cause your opponent's nervous system to freak out via response of nerves bundled in the celiac plexus'… yadda yadda what the fuck… Ah! 'Not fatal but not pleasant and known for ending conflicts by causing a momentary shortness of breath or "getting the wind knocked out".'" He put his phone down. "Well… How do you like that."

"Not fatal," said Makoto, sitting back in her chair. "And not likely to kill you quickly if it is fatal."

"Our neighbors were yelling about it having been the work of the serial killer, which would make you think he must have been stabbed… You weren't—accidently—holding your knife blade-end-up, were you?"

Ren cocked his head at him incredulously. "Seriously?" The coffee maker made a noise, and Makoto got up from the table. "No, I'm sure how I was holding my knife. I'm not an idiot."

Jiro held his hands up defensively. "Never said you were an idiot, just, you know… stress… It can make people do weird things, that's all I'm saying."

"I'm confident that didn't happen," said Ren, matter-of-factly.

"Jiro, how do you take your coffee?" asked Makoto, pulling some mugs down from the cabinet.

"Lots of milk, lots of sugar, please," he answered.

Makoto returned to the table with Jiro's mug and a tray holding small containers of cream and sugar. She set both items down in front of Jiro and returned to the kitchen to fetch a spoon and the other two mugs. Returning to the table, she handed Ren his coffee and tossed the spoon at Jiro. The two men thanked her.

Ren took a sip, letting it wash over his palate. Makoto watched him carefully. He didn't say anything.

"See? I messed it up, didn't I?" she asked, needling him.

"No! It's totally fine. Much better than Starbucks," he said, taking another sip.

"You two are weird," said Jiro, just as his phone was meowing.

"Says the man with the kitty phone," teased Ren.

"Oh, fuck!" cried Jiro, looking at his phone. "Is it eight already? God dammit! I was supposed to meet Naomi for breakfast! FuuuuuuHuhuhuHuuuuuuck…" he drawled, putting his head down. "God dammit god dammit god dammit god dammit…" he repeated, banging his head on the table with every hard 'D'.

Makoto and Ren looked at him. This was cute, but it was such a minor problem.

"Guys, can I tell her what happened? Please? I'm sure she would forgive me if she knew what was happening…"

The three exchanged glances. "What do you think?" Ren asked Makoto.

Makoto sighed. "Shit. I don't know. To tell you the truth, it was just two days ago that I got the riot act from Emiko about you. When she found out that you and I had gotten together, she started to doubt whether or not you would've made up the story about Tetsuo to get me to dump him."

Ren's jaw dropped. "She did…?" he asked, disappointed.

"Yeah, she was suspicious that it was you who had held onto the drugged beer. Then there's your uncanny proficiency with knives…"

"Oof, that sucks," said Jiro. "I mean, I guess they knew Tetsuo longer, but come on… He was such a dick." His phone meowed again, and he looked panicky. "Guys, come on, I've gotta reply. Can I tell her what's up, or what? I can't ghost her—she's the best thing that's ever happened to me!"

"Let me text her," said Makoto, getting up to grab her phone from her bedroom.

While she was out, Ren glanced up at the TV in the corner. The 'Breaking News' banner was scrolling across the screen. Steeling himself, he reached for the remote and unmuted the TV.

"—been another victim in connection with The Midnight Blade…"

"Uh oh," said Jiro. "He's got a nickname now. This is officially sensationalized…"

Makoto stepped back into the kitchen, phone in hand, but her eyes were on the TV.

"We now go live to Capital Assistant Police Chief Itsuki Rintaro:

"Good morning. Last night, shortly before midnight, there was another stabbing in the same profile as four previous killings to plague the Academy district. This most recent crime occurred in the east alley adjacent to the northwest boys' dorm, on the campus of the Academy of Justice and Policing. The victim suffered stab wounds to his abdomen. We are not releasing the victim's name at this time, but we can confirm his enrollment at the Academy. Though he is not listed among the residents at the dormitory, we suspect he may be connected to someone who lives there. We are asking anyone with information to contact Capital Police and ask for Detective Hotaru Naabe, who is leading the investigation.

"This is the fifth such incident in just over a month, and it comes only two days after the last victim. This monster needs to be stopped. The safety of all of Tochigi depends on his swift capture. We are working with the Academy to obtain video surveillance footage from the alley from last night, and we have recovered a knife from the scene. We hope to obtain a fingerprint sample that will assist us in identifying the culprit. Again, if you have any information that will assist us in the capture of this assailant, please contact Capital Police. Our hearts go out to all the families…" The Assistant Chief set his jaw and paused for just a moment, appearing to compose himself before continuing further "…the families and friends of those whose lives have been impacted by these evil acts. I will now take any questions that you may have."

Jiro's phone chimed, but this wasn't a meow. He looked down at his phone again. "God dammit," he said, reading the screen.

Jiro, r u ok?

"It's our neighbor, asking me if I'm okay… That can't be good…"

Another ping: the cops are all over the place
u heard about the murder, rite?
they're grilling everybody, and i think they esp wanna talk to u cuz u have window to the alley
they left there card under the door

"Shit, son of a bitch, god dammit… They're looking for us. Doesn't sound like they think we're suspects, but they wanna talk to us because we're on that side of the building…"

"Hey, yeah… How come you didn't hear anything?" asked Makoto. "Was it a quiet fight?" she asked, turning to Ren.

"Uh, I don't know… There wasn't a ton of banging around or anything, just the occasional cry or loud curse. I don't know how well the sound would've carried through the windows…"

"Dude, I wouldn't have heard shit anyway," said Jiro, waving his hand dismissively. "I was playing Tetris. I had the sound cranked up, because everyone knows you can't play Tetris without an adequately spazzed out soundtrack. Because that's how you zen." His phone meowed, and he was instantly freaking out again. "Ahh! You said you'd text her! What are you gonna say? Please fix it! Fix it fix it fix it fix it fix it!" he cried.

"Okay, hang on," she said.

Jiro's with me
He didn't mean to stand you up
There's stuff happening…

Oh no! :'(
Is everthing ok?

Can you come over?

I'm on campus
We were suposed to have breakfast before heading of to class
It'd take me a wile to get backthere

I think you should skip class

? ? ? srsly? ?
I skipped yesterday lol
For ren's test

I know, but this is important

Dude ur scarring me

"Jesus, we gotta teach this girl about autocorrect," mumbled Ren, looking over Makoto's shoulder and taking a sip of his coffee.

"She knows how to spell," said Jiro. "She just doesn't give a shit—she has a rebel's heart!" he exclaimed, holding both his fists up defiantly. Ren and Makoto exchanged glances.

Makoto fired off another text:
I know, sorry
I'll explain everything when you get here

K c u soon byeee ❤️

"Okay," said Makoto, "I think it's important that we get ahead of the media blitz. You said you tossed Tetsuo's knife into the dumpster, and they said they recovered a knife at the scene that they're dusting for prints. They may very well get your prints, and we know they're on file from your previous arrest. We need to convince our friends that you're innocent before they start seeing wanted posters all over campus."

"God dammit," said Ren, taking another sip of his coffee. "I can't fucking believe this is happening."

"I know," she said. "But we'll lock it down, don't worry. You should shower and change. We want you looking nice for company."