The Trickster and the Grand Order

by Kenjichan251

People of power taken down. A false god shot. A fake paradise eradicated. One would think that for Ren Amamiya, leader of the Phantom Thieves, his adventures were over. However, a blood donation would turn his life upside down as he takes an offer from the Chaldea Security Organization - and once more fight for the fate of humanity.

114. Ch 113 - Bake-Kujira, Pt 2

Ch. 113 - Bake-Kujira, Pt. 2

The night sky was a tapestry of stars, glimmering like distant gems. The constellations gleamed brightly, visible even to the naked eye: Orion, Cancer, Scorpio, Sagittarius, and countless others. Tributes and honor from ancient astronomers all the way until the present day, who etched the stories and myths into the heavens above so they would guide the way for humanity in years to come. And brighter than the constellations shone the full moon, silver and resplendent, casting an auspicious glow to the lands below.

"See if you can move those benches a bit closer together there! Yes, that will suffice!"

"Those firepits aren't large enough! We'll never be able to cook our prizes that way while properly displaying them at the same time! Enlarge them!"

"Ah, well done bringing the supplies! Place them over there, if you would. I will see to their distribution once everything else has been sorted."

Below, the Empress of Roses was busy. There was a feast to be organized, and no one was more capable than her of putting one together. The preparations were undoubtedly short notice, but that sort of hurdle would be nothing compared to her capabilities! And it was a feast on behalf of a goddess – and for Diana and her most favored hunter, no less! There would be no skimping on the banquet here, not if they wanted to appease her while simultaneously honoring her Masters and their Servants! No, anything less than extravagant was intolerable!

Holding a clipboard to keep track and refine what was needed, she barked out orders to the simulator to modify the grounds as necessary while also overseeing the Servants and Chaldean staff assisting with the herculean task. Foodstuffs and drinks to complement the hunts were brought, while various trials and games were created and tested to entertain both observer and competitor. It would undoubtedly be a grand affair, as befitting of her.

That said, as she flipped a page and wrote down the stock of what had been brought in from Chaldea's larders, a frown of concern creased her lips. While she normally had no concern about how frivolous she was being, she felt a distinct prickling irritation and even fear as the number of supplies used continued to mount up. This was to be a banquet for a goddess, after all – no expense must be spared. She had thrown them countless times without a qualm.

Yet none of them could stop the feeling of unease.

The clattering of glass interrupted her ruminations. "I have brought as much of the high-quality liquor as I could. The highest ones are locked up, however."

Nero turned around and beamed at Medusa, who was standing behind a cart laden with bottles of alcohol of all sorts. "Excellent!" she proclaimed. "While it is a shame we can't have the best for our tables, it is understandable that Namele- er, Archer would keep them under lock and key. Please, distribute the bottles among the tables. Any spares, bring them back here so everyone may peruse them at our leisure."

The Rider frowned, her displeasure clear to see. "Why are you having me act as a laborer?" she asked, her tone pointed. "There are other, far more important matters I must attend to."

"I'm aware," the emperor replied nonchalantly as she flipped back to the front page of her clipboard. "Which is precisely why I need you here."

Medusa froze for a moment at the explanation. "Explain, Nero," she stated, her tone becoming frostier.

The emperor looked up, her uncharacteristically dispassionate green eyes meeting Medusa's beautiful square ones – then she looked around her and grinned. "Ah, perfect!" she exclaimed as Siegfried came forward with a cart filled with various meats. "How much defrosting do they need?"

The dragonslayer frowned as he looked them over. "Some but not much," he stated, examining them with a critical eye. "They might require more refrigeration if our Masters take much longer."

Nero nodded pensively, jotting something down on her clipboard. "Set them near the firepits," she directed. "I'll send word and have some refrigeration units brought over, just in case. I doubt our Masters will be too long, but little can be done with spoiled meat."

Siegfried nodded and rolled off with his cart. "That's because I can't trust Jing Ke with the liquor," she continued, turning back toward Medusa. "As much as I value her abilities, I'm worried she might be too tempted to sample the vintages. Hence why I asked you, Medusa, to bring and monitor them – with your hearing and sense of smell, she would not be able to approach and try them. Not easily at any rate."

"Is that all?" the Rider asked skeptically, still not budging from her position. "As an emperor, I've no doubt you are well-versed in lying if it is to achieve your goals – especially if the lie is only a half-truth. What is your reason for keeping me here?"

The emperor looked back up with a raised eyebrow. "A rather bold accusation you're throwing at me, Medusa," she noted quietly.

"One with merit," the gorgon shot back.

The two women stared each other down, despite the Rider easily towering over the emperor. "My reason is quite simple then," Nero answered calmly. "I cannot have you offending our guest."

Medusa stiffened slightly at the unexpected answer. "… elaborate," she demanded, quiet yet fierce.

"Diana – or Artemis, as you call her – is the goddess of both the moon and the hunt," the emperor explained as she turned back to the feast arrangements. "She has already granted us an extraordinary amount of clemency by promising to return the Grails and even awarding us one more in return for the successful completion of these hunts – which we are allowed to celebrate and partake in. In that regard, a grand celebration in her honor is a pittance in comparison."

The Rider's face twitched slightly – the only visible sign of her growing irritation. "You still have not explained why you have kept me here working," she pointed out, her tone betraying her fraying temper.

Nero turned back toward her, her normally cheerful expression serious. "I am well aware of your legend, Medusa of the Shapeless Isle," she stated quietly, causing the gorgon to freeze at being addressed fully. "I am aware of the cruelties you have undergone because of the gods' pettiness and for that, you have my deepest sympathy. And given what we have observed here of Diana, your distrust of her isn't unfounded.

Medusa's eyes widened. "Then-" she began.

"That said, you are also underestimating the frivolousness of the gods," the emperor continued sternly. "Recall she holds in her hand the Grails – ones that she shall give to us when the hunts are completed. If we manage to offend her, the best scenario is that she departs and leaves us with nothing. The worst-case scenario is if she uses the Grails' power for herself to restore some measure of her divinity. I need not elaborate what will happen after, I trust."

The warning finally gave Medusa pause. Though she remained unemotive, Nero could see the myriad thoughts flitting behind her peer's eyes as she considered. While her words seemed to have her ruminating over the scenario, Nero readied more arguments in case there were other points that needed to be addressed. Hopefully, they weren't necessary – they were short on time as is.

Finally, after a tense few seconds, the Rider let out a breath: a sound of consternation, frustration… and acceptance. "You have put much thought into dealing with her," she admitted.

Nero nodded, a tight smile stretching her lips. "It is simply a matter of veneration… and humility," she quietly admitted. "Display enough of those and you can buy time to consider your next move." While she never had dealings with the gods, she knew well what it was like dealing with those that had more power over her. Titles meant little if there wasn't something harsher accompanying it. No, she knew what she had to do here – even if it meant bowing her head.

Suddenly she froze in the middle of flipping a page on her clipboard before letting out a quiet breath of frustration. Dealing with those that had more power, titles meaning little… it would seem the memories of her self from the singularity were affecting her more than she had expected. Out of all her experiences, only she had been so humbled that she had no choice but to yield her pride to those that were supposed to be subservient to her – a humility borne out of both desperation and scarcity. She didn't hate it - there was a unique beauty borne from that harshness that only she, the Flower of Olympia, could create - but it was nevertheless distracting.

Tapping her pen against the side of her head in mild frustration, she shoved the thought aside. There was time for further rumination later. "Now, may I ask you to place the liquor among the tables?" she repeated, nodding to the bottles of her cart. "I shall leave it to you which combinations you deem would be best. Or would you prefer another task instead? I recognize this is perhaps too menial a task for you."

Medusa was silent for a moment, then she slowly inclined her head. "No," she declined. "I will take care of it. And as for Artemis… I leave her to you, Nero." With that, she silently rolled the cart toward the indicated tables. Nero quietly watched her leave, privately surprised at how demure the Rider was after she had explained her reasoning – reasoning that even she questioned herself about.

She rubbed her throbbing temples in annoyance. Ever since her Master alleviated her migraines, she had trouble distinguishing whether these headaches came from migraines, stress, or her other self's memories and thoughts constantly intruding on her own. She would have to speak with him whenever he was available to see if it could be sorted out. Until then, a few performances in her personal concert later on would help at least alleviate some of her burden.

"So, I'm guessing I don't need to keep up my job then?"

Nero barely even looked up from her clipboard at the sudden voice beside her. "It won't be necessary, Jing Ke, but thank you," she answered. "Reliable as you may be when it comes to your work, it's better not to risk it."

The Assassin shrugged from her seat on the grass beside the emperor. "As you wish," she accepted casually as she poured a small cup of spirits and offered it up to the emperor, who took it. "You remind me of someone," she mused as she poured another cup for herself.

"Someone from your past?" Nero asked as she downed the cup. The strong, acrid taste was sharp against her tongue and burned as it slid down her throat. She could even feel the vapor leaving out of her nose as she exhaled. "A bit strong for my liking," she commented before clearing her throat to remove the sensation.

Jing Ke chuckled. "Not surprised," she remarked before downing her own cup and savoring the taste. "Reminds me of home, honestly. Though the wines of your empire were delicious, they simply couldn't compare – no offense to your offerings, of course."

"None taken," the emperor easily accepted. She recalled an old saying about how the drinks from one's home often tasted the best. "But you were saying who I reminded you of?"

"Your self back in the singularity," she casually replied, causing Nero to look down at her in surprise. "Normally, you bluster about like you're the emperor of the world around here. Rather fun if a bit grating on occasion. But seeing you get serious and working steadfast toward your goals, to the point you'd bend your usually unbreakable, even foolhardy, confidence? It suits her far more than it suits you."

Nero stared down at her impassively as she wrestled with how she felt. "And you think less of me for it?" she asked quietly.

The Assassin raised an eyebrow. "Should I?" she asked.

The emperor didn't have an answer to that question, instead turning back to her clipboard. "If I may inquire, Jing Ke," she murmured contemplatively. "What was my self like back in the singularity? I wish to hear about it from someone who has fought alongside her, longer than Ren Amamiya has, and familiar with the more unsavory aspects of the empire and war."

Jing Ke was silent, filling another glass and gulping it down. "I can tell you," she answered easily. "If you'll indulge me a question of my own first: Why does it matter? You've made it clear she's not you, and vice versa."

"That is true," Nero agreed. Then her eyes narrowed and she looked up. "Widen that firepit even further," she called out to the simulator. "And move the tables surrounding it away from it – I will not allow any smoke or ash to disrupt the patrons from their feast!" There was a flicker in the distance as the simulator acted to accommodate the emperor's command, opening up the area and providing more spacing overall.

"Huh," the Assassin mused, impressed. "I don't suppose you've already created a drinking area then?"

"Liquor is being arranged at each table," the emperor pointed out. "And there shall also be a separate place for drinks. However, there shall be a limit for each person, if only so there would be enough for everyone."

Jing Ke let out a guffaw at the answer. "True, true!" she agreed enthusiastically. "It would be truly regrettable if we drank an entire feast dry before it can be properly conducted! A shame, but it is understandable."

She poured out another cup and raised it to Nero. "A toast to your wisdom," the Assassin remarked with a good-humored grin before downing it.

Nero couldn't help but smile at the garrulous woman before turning contemplative. "I believe my other self had experienced things I never had," she mused, garnering Jing Ke's attention. "Of having my own empire slowly worn away by the tides of battle, watching as my people turn their backs on me and join my opposition. While such a thing has happened before in my lifetime, it was through intrigue, poison, and my own faults they had occurred. But for her, it was through the cruel crucible of war led by those who were just as brilliant – no, even more resplendent than I am."

She looked back down at her clipboard and flipped the page again, once more staring at the figures and feeling discomfort gnaw at her gut again. "My other self was taught harsh lessons I never had to learn or understand," the emperor finished quietly. "What I wish to consolidate those lessons, and bloom even greater as the Emperor of Roses and the Flower of Olympia."

Jing Ke stared at her for a moment, her expression unreadable, then she let out a chuckle. "Nice to see your pride is still in form, emperor," she remarked, reaching out for Nero's glass. As the emperor passed it over to her, she refilled both cups. "I won't tell it to you now – not when you've a job to do. But after that, I'll tell you everything you want to know on one condition."

Nero smiled in amusement. "And what boon would an assassin ask of an emperor?" she inquired.

The failed assassin matched her smile with a laidback grin of her own. "That you join me for drinks," she stated, raising her glass for emphasis. "It's the kind of story you'd share over some anyway, and I need another drinking partner. What say you, emperor? Do we have an accord?"

The emperor couldn't help but laugh at the audacious yet mundane request. "Drinking with an assassin – it certainly will be quite an experience," she remarked happily. "Very well. We have an accord then!" Reaching over, she clinked glasses with her newfound friend and downed the spirits, holding back a gasp at the sharp flavor once more. "I must warn you though, I have high standards for both drink and stories."

Jing Ke laughed happily. "I shall readily accept that challenge as well," she proclaimed, reaching for Nero's glass once more.

---

Tamamo had seen much in her time. Delving into one's thoughts and dreams wasn't an unfamiliar practice to her. During that time, the minds she saw often followed a common pattern: Wealth, power, domination, and women (or men when it came to some minds). With a few exceptions, they only differed in scale, growing greater the higher someone's station was. Sometimes such thoughts were structured and connected when it came to the more competent ones, and others nothing more than piled like refuse. It became rather trivial to find whatever she wished in such dreams as she knew where to look.

Which made the sight that she beheld all the more fantastical and unbelievable in comparison.

Instead of any thoughts or items she normally expected in a person's mind, two great figures confronted her. The first was a winged humanoid – dressed in purple plate armor adorned with a white and gold tabard, he bore a longsword that gleamed like ice. Its fierce yellow eyes were framed by his short, blonde hair and contrasted sharply with its teal skin tone. Despite the odd coloring of the figure, Tamamo felt a cold chill down her spine at the aura of power emanating from the winged humanoid.

No, wait. She knew what this being was: an angel.

The second being was a tall lizard-like man with red scales with a human face. Small, pointed demon's wings emerged from his back, smaller than the other's wings but somehow no less menacing. In its webbed claws was a trident of silver as it glared down at her, its eyes emphasized by the metallic headband it wore that had two metallic spikes jutting out. Its powerful, lengthy tail waved slowly and deliberately, reminding the miko of a coiled snake, waiting to strike.

No, not a snake or a lizard; this being was a dragon. The realization almost made her break into a cold sweat. She would have to use several tails and all of her power to survive their wrath – if that was even within the realm of possibility. She had no way of knowing if there was any possible way to win here, not in such unfamiliar territory.

"Come on, Uriel, Belial," came a familiar, joking voice. "I know you guys take security seriously, but you're scaring our guest."

Tamamo turned to see Ren easily striding between them with an easy smile. The two beings looked over at him, paused for a moment, then simply nodded in assent before stepping back, raising their weapons in salute and greeting. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "They've been pretty antsy when they heard about an intruder here. Hope they didn't scare you too badly."

The apology caught her off guard but nevertheless, she shook her head. "N-no, of course not," she quickly replied. "I understand such a location requires… security measures." As she spoke, she could only take in her surroundings with increasing awe. The hallway had opened up into what appeared to be a combination of a gallery and a museum. Countless exhibits lined the halls as far as she could see, a large opening in the middle of the floor allowing her to see more levels both above and below, with Roman-style marble railings for safety. There were even elevators in the middle of said opening, connected by levitating platforms of colored, lighted glass steps. Even the greatest of lords she had met never had mental landscapes this organized.

The chamber itself wasn't what she expected either – instead of rectangular corridors as typical of such locations, the walls curved gently around while still allowing for plenty of space for both the exhibits and pathways, with uniform distance from the opening in the middle. The walls she recognized as Chaldea's walls, but they were painted over with zig-zagging streaks of a rather loud red, punctuated by TV screens every so often. And looking closer, she could see it wasn't just exhibits either: Rest areas and lounges were dotted throughout, with even a café right beside the entrance.

What was even more surprising was that they weren't alone – aside from the two guardians, there were dozens of creatures of all descriptions populating the place. A few of them were playing around with the exhibits, a few were strolling or floating about or sitting and relaxing in one of the rest areas. There were even a few playing cards. The Caster had to duck as a trio of fairies darted by her, giggling amongst themselves. Never had Tamamo seen such a chaotic yet structured and detailed mind.

She turned in amazement to Ren, who opened his arms with a broad grin. "Welcome, Tamamo, to the Thieves' Den," he greeted. "I hope it's to your liking – I've done a bit of redecorating around here lately."

The Caster blinked several times at the Master before looking back in wonder at the Den. Finally, she wrenched her composure and cleared her throat. "It is… quite a sight, Master," she admitted. "I must admit, most mental landscapes are not nearly as organized or structured as this. This is incredibly impressive, even by the standards of my time."

Ren grinned. "Glad to hear," he replied. "Before I get started on the guided tour, would you like some coffee? On the house." He nodded over to the café with a knowing grin.

Tamamo hesitated for the moment, then inwardly sighed. This was Ren's territory now. If he truly wished to trap her, then there was very little she could do. "If you are offering, then I gratefully accept," she answered with a small bow. The Phantom Thief nodded. Gesturing with a finger, he led her to the café and opened the door for her to enter. The miko stepped in – and once more, the surroundings caught her off guard.

The cafe was small and rustic, hardly anything as grand as the entire museum and gallery she saw outside. Yet it had a sense of warmth and comfort that the outside seemed to lack. Two empty booths sat on one side while the other was lined with shelves filled with coffee beans, with a kitchen in the far corner. A counter lined with stools separated the customer from said shelves. On the far side was a staircase that led up to the second level, but it was closed off by a thin chain with a small 'Out of Order' sign dangling off it. A rather flimsy barrier, yet Tamamo sensed it was quite unbreakable here.

However, what drew her attention the most was a child. Grey-haired and wearing a grey coat, he was swinging his feet merrily off the side as he sipped at a small shot glass filled with an incandescent liquid. It seemed at an innocuous sight, but something about it set her ill at ease. Was this some other guardian of her Master's mind? At her entrance, the boy looked up in curiosity, and she beheld his eyes: Yellow and glowing.

Though she tried to control her expressions, she could feel the fur on her tails stand. Whatever this boy was, he wasn't normal. Just how many mysteries was Ren Amamiya holding?

Speaking of her Master, he glanced over at the child. "Hey, Jose," he greeted casually with a happy grin. As he stepped behind the counter, a dark green apron suddenly appeared on his person as though it had always been there. "Didn't expect to see you tonight. How are things?"

"Hey, mister!" Jose greeted cheerfully in return. "It's pretty good, though traveling is a bit darker than usual these days. Not as flowers to drink from either. It's kind of sad, but I'm hanging in there. Thanks for keeping the place open for me!"

"You're welcome anytime," the Phantom Thief replied with a kind smile. Then he blinked as if remembering. "Right, you guys haven't met. Tamamo, this is Jose. He's a frequent guest of mine here. Jose, this is Caster Tamamo-no-Mae, one of the Servants I'm working with in Chaldea."

Jose blinked then turned toward her with eyes as round as saucers. "You're Tamamo-no-Mae?" he gasped. "The one known as one of the great calamities of Japan, bewitching emperor and commoner alike, before finally sealed off in the Sessho-seki? Wow! knew you were working with really famous and powerful people, mister, but I never thought I'd get to meet them! It's really nice to meet you, Tamamo-no-Mae!"

Tamamo froze at the little boy rattling off her legend without a hint of either fear or disgust. Rather, the only thing she could discern from his tone was innocent wonder and sheer amazement. Such wide-eyed curiosity… when was the last time she had encountered such a being that treated her with such? Most treated her either with a good deal of apprehension or as a tool to be used – and they would be right to do so. And yet this child…

Suppressing her rather mixed feelings towards the matter, she forced a smile and bowed. "Indeed, I am that humble personage," she acknowledged. "It is an honor to meet you, Jose. A Master as capable as my own undoubtedly attracts powerful guests and allies of his own."

The boy laughed, abashed. "I wouldn't call myself powerful," he brushed off. "I'm just on my own adventure to learn about humanity. It's been a really fascinating journey – the more I learn about humanity, the less I understand them."

The Caster felt a pang in her heart. "Ah, yes, that can happen," she agreed sympathetically. "Your journey must undoubtedly be somewhat frustrating."

Jose blinked in genuine surprise. "Frustrating? Why would it be?" he inquired earnestly. "It means there's more to learn and more to discover, both good and bad. My journey, and my education, is nowhere near over yet. Isn't that a wonderful thing?"

Tamamo's mouth fell open slightly at the boy's honest answer, unable to form a reply of her own. Her thoughts were broken by a chuckle from Ren, who had been leaning on the counter and observing their conversation. "Jose's a pretty unique kid," he remarked. "And I'm more than happy to count him as a friend."

The boy beamed in response. "Thank you, mister!" he exclaimed happily.

The Phantom Thief grinned. "Just telling the truth," he replied simply. "In the meantime, Tamamo, what do you feel like? Got plenty of different blends over here, though I'm pretty sure there's some matcha lying about if you prefer that."

The Caster looked between Ren, then Jose, then the café, and finally sighed in resignation. Trying to keep up with her Master was rapidly appearing to be a fool's errand. "I trust your judgement," she answered wearily, finally sitting at the counter – though a chair away from the boy. She was uncomfortable with the eldritch child, understanding him about as much as she did her own Master.

Meanwhile, Jose continued sipping happily at his drink, savoring each taste. If the boy took any offense to the distance Tamamo made, he made no sign that she could discern whatsoever.

Tamamo turned uneasily back to Ren, who looked pondered over the beans for a moment, then nodded confidently. Grabbing a selection from the shelves, the Master walked over to the machines and began his work, grinding them down and working on the brew with practiced and comfortable ease.

Every once in a while, however, she noticed his eyes flicking towards the door with trepidation, almost as if he was expecting a guest. "Is something the matter, Master?" she asked, wondering both with nervousness and curiosity what would spook him in such a well-protected mind.

Ren paused, then smiled. "I get pranksters that storm by every once in a while," he explained as he waited for coffee to percolate. "They're fun, but I'd rather avoid the cleanup if I can help it."

The Caster raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do... you not have full control of the entities here?" she asked in surprise.

The Phantom Thief's smile wavered for a bit. "'Control' is… not a word I'm fond of when it comes to my personas," he softly answered. "Just as they are me, I am them. Rather, it's more like they're my impulses. While I can restrict them, it's better and more productive to direct them properly instead and let them – and me – do what we do best."

The miko frowned slightly at the somewhat vague answer. Before she could continue with her inquiry, he had placed a cup of dark brew in front of her before setting one for himself. "Here you are," he stated with a smirk. "Let me know what you think."

Frowning slightly, she looked up at her Master in consternation before gently lifting up the cup. It was surprisingly flavorful, with a rich floral aroma tingling her sense of smell as the acidity lit up her tongue. Putting down the cup, the aftertaste was surprisingly sweet. It was certainly a unique brew compared to anything Ren had made before, or even to the teas she was accustomed to. "This is quite remarkable," she noted. "What is this?"

Ren smirked. "Panama Esmeralda Geisha," he answered. "This is a pretty rare bean – it has the highest bidding price in the International Coffee Auction in Panama and has a limited cultivation. It's pricey and hard to find, but the taste is more than worth it, if you ask me."

Tamamo's eyes widened as she looked back down at her cup with much greater appreciation and apprehension. Her Master was undoubtedly aware of rather refined, expensive tastes. There was no doubt he knew how to serve guests properly… but it also meant that he had once more read her like a book, while she was still left struggling for the barest hint of an answer about the enigma known as Ren Amamiya. The brew was as delicious as it was vexing.

Jose, meanwhile, sampled his own cup. "Oooh, this is delicious, mister!" he chirped. "How much do I owe you for this one? From how you put it, this seems pretty expensive!"

The Phantom Thief chuckled. "I'm putting it on your tab again, Jose," he simply replied. "I'm glad you like it."

The boy nodded, fishing a notebook out of his jacket and jotting it down. The Caster watched with interest. It was clear that there was some sort of transactional relationship, though what they exchanged she could only hazard wild guesses. Then she noted as her Master once more glanced briefly at the doorway in expectation before turning away. Whoever these pranksters are, they must be rather troublesome if they made him so wary.

For a moment, the café was silent as all three quietly sipped and savored their brews. Tamamo noticed Ren's eyes occasionally flicking towards the door still, but it became more relaxed and less frequent – probably because whoever he was worried about likely wasn't about to show. Finally, Ren lowered his cup. "So, Tamamo," he began, quickly getting her attention. "You're here to find out something about me. What would you like to know?"

The Caster blinked several times at the forward, blunt question. Just like that? It felt like a trap – such offers were always too good to be true – but as far as she could tell, there was no dishonesty or malicious intent behind his words. Then again, given her Master's sheer mental fortitude and mastery of himself, even those indicators could be false. What was his plan? What did he want? Could she trust literally anything in here?

The pause seemingly notified Ren of her ruminations as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I get that you don't trust me, which is fair enough," he admitted. "I'm probably pretty different than most people you've dealt with. So, I'll make a small promise to you: If you're candid with me about whatever you want, I'll be candid with you about my answers – including if I can't provide them. Will that work for you?"

Tamamo was quiet for a moment as she considered his words. "Why?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"Why are you going out of your way to trust me?" the Caster asked quietly. "You know not what I am seeking – though undoubtedly you could surmise it given enough time and prodding. Nor do you know what I will do with the information you'll provide me. I am currently in your mental landscape, where no matter how structured and detailed your mind is, it is incredibly difficult if not impossible to conceal your thoughts should I decide to take a closer look."

Her golden eyes met his dispassionate grey ones. "Why are you going to such an extent?" she inquired. "What do you gain from this?"

Ren was silent for a moment, then he smirked. "What I want and stand to gain is simple:" he replied calmly. "Your trust. And I can't gain that if I don't extend my own in turn. I make it sound simple and to you it probably isn't, but that's really all it is. No more and no less."

He leaned back against the shelves behind him with an understanding smile. "It's your call, Tamamo. Door's still right there if you wanna head out." The Phantom Thief nodded to the café door for emphasis.

Tamamo was silent. She was acutely aware of the boy staring at her in curiosity as both of them awaited her answer. Her Master did indeed make it sound simple, and yet it was hardly anything simple for her. That concept had been sullied long ago, and even now she only trusted in what she could see, hear, or experienced – and even then, those could still very well fall out from under her.

But… he was giving her the chance, for no greater – or lesser - reason than because he trusted her. It was a foolhardy notion, true, but it was made in earnestness and for their mutual advantage. On every level he was appealing to her, to the point where she found it difficult to muster up any counterarguments.

She could only laugh bitterly to herself. Trust her Master to wield his honesty as deftly as his knife.

Finally, she made her decision. "Very well," she quietly agreed. "If that is the case, I shall be candid with you. I wish to know what you believe in. Your morals, the root of it all, your desires and dreams. I wish to know it all so that I know what I'm supporting and share in it with you. No matter how often I speak with you or observe you, those questions have always confounded me. I hope you will enlighten me in turn."

The Phantom Thief blinked several times, then burst out in a hearty chuckle to her surprise. "Oh, that's what you wanted to know?" he cheerfully replied. "Sure, I can show you all of that. It's a bit of a long story though, so we'll be around for a while. Once you finish your coffee, we'll be on our way."

The Caster's mouth dropped open, her ears twitching in surprise. "Just like that?" she spluttered. "You… you have no qualms about showing such a thing?"

Her Master shrugged with an easy grin. "We had a deal," he stated. "You were candid with me, so I'll be candid with you. Hopefully you'll get your answers – and I'll also be happy to deal with any more questions you might have as they pop up."

Tamamo simply stared at Ren, at a loss for words. This wasn't anywhere close to how she expected this to play out. As she tried to reconcile her thoughts, Ren nodded down at her coffee. "Might wanna finish that before it gets cold," he added with a teasing grin. The Caster blinked and continued sipping at her coffee, barely reining in her impatience so she didn't simply chug it down like an uncouth barbarian. It would be a shame not to enjoy such a spectacular brew.

A few minutes later, everyone's cups were empty. Ren picked them up and deposited them in the sink, where they simply vanished into thin air. "Alright, let's get a move on," he stated. "Jose? You wanna come with?"

Tamamo looked at the child, who considered for a moment before shaking his head. "Maybe next time, mister," he declined. "There's a few more things I wanna try out here before I get going. Thanks for the offer though!"

Ren nodded without demur. "Sounds good," he acknowledged. "In that case, see you when we see you, Jose! As always, put whatever you order on your tab!" Having said his piece, he stepped out from behind the counter – his apron also vanishing as he did so – before walking entirely out of the café.

The Caster glanced at the door before turning back and bowing slightly to Jose. As perturbed as she was by the child, she couldn't forget her manners. "It has been a pleasure to meet you, Jose," she murmured. "I bid you a good evening."

Jose grinned in response and waved. "It was nice to meet you too, Tamamo-no-Mae!" he chirped. "Please, come visit again! I'd love to hear some stories from you when there's a chance!"

The Caster forced a courteous smile. "If it is within my power," she replied. Bowing once more, she exited the café while trying to suppress the shivers down her spine. As fascinating as her Master's mental landscape may be, she currently had no desire to visit again. Being at the whims of her Master in this manner was not an experience she wished to repeat.

Meeting up with Ren, they began walking past the exhibits. As she did, she couldn't help but observe curiously the various creatures that populated her Master's mindscape: A small snowman that happily marched passed her with a hearty 'hee-ho!' A multicolored being adorned in a red robe observing a painting in what appeared to be an exhibit of an art gallery. A white tiger and a shiisa napping in a meadow during the sunset.

Meanwhile, another being floated toward them: A darker-skinned, winged woman with a seductive smile. "That was remarkably done, trickster," she purred despite her lips not moving whatsoever. "It was rather regrettable it was cut short."

"Duty calls, unfortunately," Ren answered with a grin. "But take some credit, that all was a good part your work too."

The woman giggled in response. "Very well, I shall," she purred. "But as you are occupied now, I will not keep you. A good evening to you, trickster."

"Same to you, Lilim," the Phantom Thief replied.

The Caster watched her float away, then looked back at her Master. "May I ask what she speaks of?" she inquired.

Ren paused in consideration, then smirked. "I could answer, but that would very much steer everything off topic," he honestly answered.

Tamamo's eyes narrowed in annoyance at the Phantom Thief's mischievousness. Before she could prod further, however, they stopped in front of one exhibit. Looking over curiously, she saw a far younger Ren sitting at a dining table. The boy's expression was muted and controlled as he kept his head lowered – whether in sadness or shame, she couldn't quite place. Across the table were an adult man and woman. They were sitting down with faces that were both stern yet oddly expressionless. In front of them was a test paper, turned toward Ren, with a large '73' written in red ink in the corner.

"Your childhood?" she guessed quietly.

Ren smiled ruefully and nodded. "Yep," he confirmed. Tamamo watched as her Master walked toward the exhibit – then stepped into it, to her surprise. The Phantom Thief looked back at her and, to her surprise, motioned with a nod to join him. She hesitated for a moment, then stepped into the exhibit as well. As she did so, the entire world suddenly lurched around her, throwing her off balance. Just before she fell over, everything fell still, giving her the opportunity to collect her bearings and observe the situation.

As she looked around, she could only feel astonishment by what she saw. Whereas before it had just been an exhibit, she was now standing in the very same living room it depicted. There was even a cold setting sun, its orange glow filtering through the windows and warded off by the interior lighting. The only indication that she hadn't been transported somewhere else entirely was a large, rectangular portal that led back to her Master's mental landscape.

Turning around, she could see the younger version of her Master seated at the table, his expression despondent yet hollow as he stared down at the table. Across from him were the parents. The father was a stern-looking man with short-cropped hair. From his button-up shirt and slacks, he likely had just returned home. While the mother looked more fashionable, judging by her longer, well-maintained black hair and bracelet on her wrist, her beauty was incredibly cold, akin to a sculpture made carved from rock or ice.

She frowned. This sight wasn't unfamiliar to her in the slightest - which made it even more surreal to see her Master leaning up against the table, staring up at the ceiling with his back to his parents with a neutral expression.

"Explain yourself," the man calmly demanded, his eyes boring into the boy.

The younger Ren gulped, his hands fiddling with the corner of the chair. "Th-the test had q-questions about stuff we d-didn't study," he stammered. "I w-wasn't sure how to-"

"I don't care what you did or didn't do," the woman interrupted sharply. "The point is, we thought we raised you better than this. Whatever the reason, this result is utterly unacceptable."

"My subordinates have asked about you several times. I normally don't mind talking about you, but this?" The man tapped the large, red number for emphasis. "This kind of result will make me a laughingstock."

The boy meekly nodded in understanding as he shrunk further in his chair. Despite how familiar this kind of scene was, Tamamo felt a pang of pity echoing in her chest. She glanced over at her Master, who continued to look up at the ceiling with an impassive expression. If he seemed affected by the memories, he wasn't showing it on his face.

"I believe there's nothing to discuss here," the woman stated curtly. "You have until the next test to bring your results up – a 95 at minimum. Anything less and we will no longer consider you our son, with all that implies."

The younger Ren immediately looked up in abject shock and disbelief. He desperately searched their faces and eyes to see if it was some sort of bluff or lie – and finding none. "You'll… what…?" he breathed, his words barely even audible.

"We have no need for a child who cannot perform up to standard," the man elaborated coldly. "If your results are of no concern to you, then you are of no concern to us. Your welfare will be solely your responsibility afterward if you cannot fulfill your obligations. Are we understood here?"

Tamamo looked back at the boy, whose mouth worked as he tried to form some sort of answer, his shock and despondency finding nothing but the icy indifference of his 'parents'. Finally, he looked back down at the table, his tiny hands curling into fists as tears began streaming from his eyes. "Yes," he whispered.

The woman nodded. Without another word to her son, she stood up. "I have an appointment in about thirty minutes," she announced, looking over at her husband. "Shall I pick up some of those breads on the way home? I think I'll be right on time to receive a fresh batch."

Nodding the man smiled – the first break in expression Tamamo had seen since the memory began. "That sounds good to me," he agreed. "I'll get started on dinner after reviewing a few documents."

Both adults left the table, chatting and making plans, leaving the boy sitting at the table without any further thought. Eventually, the younger Ren slowly stood up, pushed his chair back in, and silently began walking upstairs to his own room. The Caster watched as he slowly looked back pleadingly at his parents – a silent plea that went completely unnoticed. Finally, he looked back down and glumly walked up the stairs.

At that point, the teenaged Ren snapped his fingers. In an instant, everything froze like he had hit the pause button on a movie. "Meet my parents," he stated, getting up from the table and nodding over to them. "They never really cared too much what I did, but they always checked on my grades. While they were mostly calm so long as I got above an 85 or so, anything below usually got me that talk."

He smiled – a bitter expression compared to use his usual carefree or mischievous expressions. "I don't think this was the first time either, come to think of it." he added contemplatively. "All I knew at the time was that they were serious about it."

The Caster blinked several times. "And how often did you bring home such… mediocre results?" she inquired.

The Phantom Thief paused as he dug through his memories. "I think that was my… second one for the school year?" he recalled. "It was for English, funnily enough. I could never really get the proper hang of grammar – too many contradicting rules. Still tried and managed to get some better results by the skin of my teeth though."

Tamamo nodded contemplatively. The boy's upbringing was certainly different than she had imagined. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before – plenty of nobles and aristocrats treated their children in such a manner, including disowning them entirely should they fall even slightly short of expectations. After all, having another child was a trivial matter, whether by natural means or adoption – as was getting rid of one.

No, what surprised her the most was the sheer contrast of circumstances compared to her Master. It was nothing short of astounding.

"Don't believe me?" Ren guessed, observing the Caster's expression with a wry smile.

The miko opened her mouth to deny it, then after a moment's consideration closed it. They had promised to be candid with one another, after all. "I find it difficult to believe such an upbringing would result in a… unique personage as you, Master," she confessed. "Normally, it would result in more, shall we say, hollow individuals." Ones that were extraordinarily easy to manipulate, in her opinion. All it took was a few whispered loving words, an affectionate touch or two, and they became little more than clay to be molded as she saw fit.

The Phantom Thief chuckled. "You're not wrong," he agreed. "I knew they were serious, and it kind of became the foundation of our relationship. They fed and clothed me, even bought me things to keep me entertained and compliant. In return, I improved their reputation as the 'ordinary son.' No less, and definitely no more."

He stepped up to his parents, looking between the two of them dispassionately. "To the outside world, I was just a normal boy with decent grades and regular hobbies," he recounted coolly. "I had a few friends and worked hard in school. Heck, I even tried out for the football team – though the fact I stepped on the ball and fell flat on my face probably tanked my chances for that."

Tamamo couldn't help but giggle at the image despite the melancholy atmosphere. "It is admittedly difficult to imagine you being quite that clumsy, Master," she admitted.

"Hey, I had to learn to be graceful somewhere," he replied, this time giving Tamamo a more relaxed grin. "As long as I didn't stand out too much, it really didn't matter. I did try my best but great results got me a 'good. Continue.' at best, so I stopped trying or giving a damn." Shooting one last look at his parents, he sauntered through the portal and out of the exhibit.

The Caster took one last glance at the entire scene, then followed him out. Unlike before, the sensation of the world spinning was absent. Turning back around, the scene had become what it was before: Nothing more than one exhibit among the countless others in Ren's mindscape.

"Other than that though, for the most part, my life was pretty ordinary," the Phantom Thief elaborated as he began walking again, leaving Tamamo to follow. "But things happen and life can change. It was definitely the beginning of the wildest – at least, at the time – part of my life." He stopped in front of another exhibit, letting the miko stare curiously at the scene depicted – and her eyes widened as she immediately recognized it.

"This was the false arrest you mentioned, was it not?" Tamamo quietly asked.

Ren nodded. "Yep," he quietly confirmed. "Where it really all began." He stepped into the exhibit and smiled over to the miko. Taking that as her cue, the Caster followed after him and frowned slightly at the dizzying sensation as the world around her warped and changed once again.

They were standing at a nondescript street. The sun had set beyond the horizon, plunging the sky above them in a deep shade of azure. The streetlights had come on, bathing the location with stark brightness to combat the encroaching darkness of night. Aside from the distant sound of cars, it was quiet save for the chirping of insects.

Then Tamamo turned around – and blinked several times as she beheld two of her Masters. One was frozen in place, dressed in far more ordinary clothes: a long-sleeved shirt, beige trousers, with a backpack slung over his shoulder. The other one stood beside him, dressed in the white Chaldean uniform and observing his other self closely. Now that she had looked, the Ren of the past looked… younger, yet more tired than his current self. Time had a way of changing people, it seemed – a fact she knew all too well.

"Hm, I definitely didn't look as good back then," he murmured, a hand to his chin. "What did Futaba call Mishima that one time? An NPC? Can't believe that would apply here…"

Ren's odd observations of himself had the Caster blink several times both in confusion and consternation. "Is right now truly the time to consider your appearances, Master?" she asked, a tone of admonishment creeping into her voice.

"I mean, considering this was me only a little more than a year ago, I think you can let this slide," Ren shot back. Nevertheless, he stopped observing his past self as he looked around. "I had just finished hanging out with some pals," he explained, his eyes misting over a bit in recollection. "Things were going alright at that point: My scores were decent enough, with the occasional dip and the 'conversation'. Studied hard, played a bit, even talked about the cute girls at school. I was pretty ordinary back then."

Tamamo raised an eyebrow. "You, ordinary?" she remarked flatly before she could stop herself. "Even after this, that is the part I find the most unbelievable."

The Phantom Thief burst out laughing, "It's true though!" he protested through his chuckles. "Up until this point, I was just some ordinary guy! My only concerns were the math exams coming up next week!"

He finally got his laughter under his control as his smile became melancholy. "But life has a funny way of going about things," he murmured. Without further ado, he snapped his fingers. Suddenly, everything came into motion as the younger Ren began walking down the street, rolling his shoulders. It was an utterly mundane scene, a regular day like any other.

Tamamo was about to question her Master when she heard a commotion – a woman's distressed yelps coupled by a man growling ill-temperedly. Glancing over, it was clear the younger Ren heard it too and picked up his pace, going towards the source of the noise. That was a reaction the Caster hadn't expected; with the upbringing he had, it made sense else if he walked away. It wasn't his affair after all. And yet, despite that…

A low chuckle seized her attention. She turned to her Master, who was fondly watching his younger self run off. "I'm surprised you moved on your own initiative," she remarked quietly.

"So was I," Ren admitted.

They quickly caught up and saw a bald, middle-aged man grabbing a woman by the arm. The past Ren stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder with the intention of pulling him away. Instead, the man spun around and threw an incredibly sloppy punch, one the younger Ren easily stepped away from. Tripping over his own feet, the vagrant fell on his face and hit his head. Now that Tamamo had a closer look, she could see the bright red complexion of the man and wrinkled her nose in disgust: Drunk. Of course he was.

Then she watched it all unfold: The man snarling at how their lives would be ruined at a whim from him and threatening the woman into making a false declaration: That Ren randomly assaulted him and pushed him down.

She watched as officers showed up on the scene due to complaints of a public disturbance. She watched the hollow shock and dismay on Ren's face as the woman provided false testimony and the officers recognized who the bald man was. She watched as the officers hauled the boy into their police cruiser nearby, his face still that of blank, uncomprehending dismay as the woman simply looked away, unable to meet his eyes, while the man watched the arrest play out with a vicious smirk on his face.

During that time, Tamamo's impassive expression had not changed even once.

Finally, as the door slammed on the cruiser, Ren snapped his fingers again to freeze the scene in place. "Meet Masayoshi Shido, the next prime-minister to be," he explained, nodding to the bald man. "Drunkard, womanizer, and all-around asshole extraordinaire. I'll admit, I was really unlucky that the one guy I stopped had that much pull, but I guess that's what happens at times."

He glanced over at Tamamo, his normally mischievous grey eyes now devoid of emotion as he observed her. "What do you think?" he asked out of curiosity.

The Caster for a moment didn't answer, instead turning her gaze toward the man. There didn't seem to be anything remarkable about him, in her opinion. His glazed eyes and smug countenance betrayed both his malevolence and low intelligence. She noted his cheap, ruffled suit that mimicked more costly cuts as well as the tacky yellow sunglasses that lay broken on the ground.

All in all, while she had no liking for him, she found him utterly mundane. During her life, men like Shido were rather commonplace on every level of society, from commoners to nobles. If someone like him was all it took to create people like her Master, then there would undoubtedly be countless Ren Amamiyas running all around the world – a thought that was rather terrifying to even contemplate. How someone so ordinary became the catalyst that created her Master ultimately eluded her.

"Not impressed?" Ren asked with a wry grin as he observed the miko's expression.

Tamamo flinched slightly at being seen through easily, then sighed. She had debated at least slightly dressing up her opinion, but at this point it would be unproductive. "I'm afraid not," she confessed. "Men like Shido you can find anywhere, both in my time and yours. He is rather unpleasant but ultimately rather ordinary. If he truly was the reason that you became so… remarkable, Master, then logically there would be many others like you as well, no? As it stands, that is my only, rather nonsensical, conclusion."

The Phantom Thief burst out laughing at her bluntness. "You hit the nail right on the head," he agreed. "Honestly, you're not wrong – guys like him are a dime a dozen. The kind of guys who step on other people's heads and shove them down if it means they can get ahead in life, ethics or compassion be damned. Ones who wouldn't hesitate to condemn some damn brat who tried to do the right thing and twist the arm of his victim to do so, then continue with their lives without so much as a second thought."

His grin widened as he looked back at Tamamo. "And that's exactly the problem," he concluded.

The Caster blinked several times. "Well… yes," she replied slowly. "But that is simply how society is, is it not? There is little one can do about it, unless human nature is changed entirely to ignore their ambition or greed – a task that is about as futile as catching a moon reflected in a still lake. Even you cannot change that, Master, as competent and able as you are."

To her surprise, Ren smiled enigmatically. "Come on," he called over as he walked towards the portal back to his mindscape. "There's a few more exhibits I want to show you." The Caster's eyes widened. While this could still be some sort of fabricated narrative her Master had crafted, she couldn't help but be intrigued still, wondering where it would all lead up. Without any demur or argument, she followed after him as they stepped out of the exhibit and continued walking.

Walking down the aisle some distance (with Tamamo dispassionately staring back at a group of angels that floated by with glares at her), it wasn't long before they came to another exhibit. This one was distinctly different from the others. While the last two had a modern setting, this place looked like a stone dungeon of a castle. Ren was there, pinned to the wall by what appeared to be an inhumanly large knight while another knight sent a second boy – about Ren's age, with spikey blonde hair – sprawling. Overseeing the scene was a middle-aged man with curly hair, clothed in a pompous crown and kingly cloak, underwear… and nothing else.

"This is… a rather different locale," the Caster remarked, unable to find the words to properly convey the sheer contrast she beheld.

Her Master grinned. "This is what happens when you make a left turn when you should've taken a right," he joked a bit before walking toward the exhibit. This time, Tamamo didn't hesitate and simply entered the exhibit alongside Ren. The world lurched once more and-

The dungeon was more… cloying than she expected. The entire place was lit up by some sort of faint pink aura, a tint that made it rather nauseating to witness. Her ears twitched as she heard the gurgling of some sort of stream nearby – as well as distant tortured screams of young men from elsewhere in the dungeon. This entire place disgusted her, but she withheld her opinion for now. This wasn't what she was here for.

Turning to look, she could see Ren's younger self being pinned to the wall by two knights. Yet again he looked different: A black school uniform complete with plaid pants (she idly wondered what Nero would say about such fashion), he looked considerably thinner and paler as well. It was clear the stress from the arrest had not done wonders for his health. What was notable was that he wore glasses now, which softened his normally sharp eyes considerably. She wondered if the effect was deliberate.

Meanwhile, her actual Master was leaning up against the bars of the cell, observing everything impassively. She had to admit, it was impressive how he seemed to accept all these traumatic events without, as far as she could tell, either diminishing or overplaying their effects. Most anyone else would've done so. It was a trait that most Servants didn't have – and she was no exception. She would admit that much, at least.

"What's the matter? Are you simply going to watch? Are you forsaking him to save yourself?"

A deep, familiar voice echoed throughout the cell, startling the Caster. Looking around, it was clear that nobody could hear it except her – and, judging by the younger Ren's shocked reaction, him as well. Then a moment later, she recognized the voice and her eyes widened. It took a good amount of effort to remain quiet. Looking toward her Master, she saw the smile curl his lips as he stared hard at his younger self. So, this was-

"Death awaits him if you do nothing. Was your previous decision a mistake then?"

"It wasn't," both past and current Ren hissed out without hesitation as the former's hands tightened into fists. Tamamo's eyes flicked back and forth between the two before turning back to his past self. She knew a momentous occasion like this needed her full attention if she wanted to understand her Master.

"Very well," the voice declared. "I have heeded your resolve."

Suddenly, the past Ren began writhing and groaning in agony. "Vow to me," it demanded. "I am thou, thou art I. Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice! Call upon my name – and release thy rage!"

The fur on the Caster's tails stood on end. Sparing a quick glance at her Master, she saw him whispering the very same words the voice spoke as his grin widened in what could only be described as fervent madness. "Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own," the voice commanded with a power beyond that of fate. "Though thou be chained to Hell itself!"

"Execute him!" the middle-aged man playing at being a monarch had barked out the order with all the severity and dignity of a yapping dog. Nevertheless, the knights, large and imposing, silently carried out the order. They approached the blonde boy and raised their blades, the sharp cold steel glinting in the horrid lighting. Tamamo frowned slightly in disgust but otherwise held her tongue, simply watching the scene unfold-

"That's enough!"

The voice of the past Ren rang out through the dungeon room, catching the pathetic monarch and his knights off guard. The former turned around and sneered at the young man while the other knight released the blonde boy. "What was that…?" he snarled disdainfully. "You desire to be killed that much? Fine." Receiving a nod from the man, the knight that had been pinning Ren struck the young man with its shield, knocking off his glasses.

As the knight raised its sword to finish the job, there was a gust of wind that suddenly erupted from the past Ren. The miko raised her arm to shield her face like the others. When the gust passed, she saw something had appeared on the young man's face: An elegant, white mask. He grasped at it in surprise, then began pulling but it was fastened tight to his face. Nevertheless, he kept pulling and pulling-

Then finally, with a scream of agony, he ripped the mask off his face, tearing away at the flesh underneath it as blood fountained into the air. Then he looked up, a grin borne of madness adorning his face as his entire body was consumed by eldritch blue flames. Dark laughter echoed as the knights, the monarch, and the blonde boy stared and backed away in terror.

Then the flames lifted off of the past Ren, who was now adorned in a new outfit: A black long coat and trousers, with a black vest, punctuated by startlingly red gloves. The eldritch flames coalesced and solidified themselves into a red winged figure with the hat, a being Tamamo immediately recognized: The boy's guardian that had greeted her outside her mindscape. Then her Master's past self raised his hands, the guardian unfurled its wings, and the resulting blast of power sent the knights crashing against the wall as the pathetic monarch fled with his tail between his legs.

Then there was a snap and everything paused once more. "And that was the beginning of… well, not everything, but a lot," her Master finished, getting up from where he was and casually sauntering over. "Hope you're not finding this too dull, Tamamo."

At the teasing remark, the Caster regained her senses. "It is… impressive, I must say, Master," she admitted. "Your other, meek appearance did not suit you whatsoever. This is what I expected from you. That said…"

Ren noticed her hesitation and glanced over with a raised eyebrow. "Something the matter?" he asked.

Her tails swished erratically behind her as her thoughts raced. She stared at the younger Ren Amamiya, now dressed like a gentleman thief while bearing a mad grin on his face, with this blazing guardian right behind him, ready to face their enemies no matter who they may be.

This figure, this being, was something she was all too familiar with: That inner darkness within the unconscious minds of all living beings, from beasts to mortals to gods. The fragments of the cosmic mother, the great essence buried in the depths of the world's immaterial sea of souls.

Long had she struggled with the parts of herself these fragments embodied, doing her utmost to suppress it so that she could be better than the being she used to be. And yet, Ren was able to harness it – no, that term fell miserably short. He was able to wield it, bearing it like a mask and controlling it. And most of all, it encouraged him to be better, to embrace those dark impulses and use them for the sake of his own justice.

Her golden gaze bore harder into the cognitive replica of her Master's guardian. Such a thing was unheard of in her lifetime. Or rather, it was borderline inconceivable. Was this like when she was Amaterasu and she split herself into nine fragments…? No, even that wouldn't do for a comparison. There was nothing like it that she knew of. Had mortals really changed that much and she simply hadn't known? Or was Ren Amamiya simply, once more, an exception as he had demonstrated countless times already?

She gulped subtly, a lump sliding past her dry throat. Just what precisely was her Master?

"How…" she rasped before clearing her throat, blushing slightly in embarrassment. She hadn't meant to be so caught off guard by the recollection. "How did it feel when you first unlocked that power? I must admit, it looked rather… unpleasant."

Ren was pensive as he stared at his former self, a very stark contrast to the mad, exhilarated grin. "It was," he admitted. "First you get the headache, like your brain suddenly grew claws and it's trying to tear out of your skull. I'm not gonna lie, it hurts. A lot."

He chuckled ruefully in recollection. "All my friends had to go through that too and I'd argue it's the worst part of the process," he elaborated. "You can still hear and understand your shadow speaking to you during that time, though – which is just as well since they take their time with it."

Tamamo thought back to when she saw her Master's younger self writhing in pain despite the guards doing nothing besides pinning him down and nodded. That certainly would explain his reaction.

"After the headache is done, your mask appears on your face," he elaborated. "The representation of everything you hide behind to avoid showing your true self – and you have to take it off. You know that it's gonna hurt, almost excruciating, but once you've made that step, you just know with every part of your being – you can't keep wearing it. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much you'll bleed, it needs to come off. So you'll keep pulling at the mask. You'll pull and pull and finally, you tear it right off."

The Caster nodded faintly. Hiding behind a mask, either literally or metaphorically, was something she was all too familiar with – which only terrified Tamamo even more. This wasn't something that should be possible, especially with someone's darker self. If she wore such a mask, she doubted she would ever be able to rip it off on her own terms.

They were silent for a moment as Tamamo ruminated. "And what of your guardian?" she gently asked. "How did you feel about him?

"Like a huge load had been taking off my shoulders." Ren's smile broadened. "He's my other self, and being able to focus that into someone as powerful and versatile as Arsene is always handy." Smiling fondly, he looked up at Arsene, frozen in place with his wings unfurled.

The Caster nodded slowly. That answered one question, at least – but frustratingly, several more had popped up in its place. More answers were yet needed.

"…Between this and your arrest, some time must have passed, yes?" she began. "I must ask, was there perhaps anything positive between then and this moment? You said you had no regrets for your valiant action – there must have been some sympathy or support for it." For something like this, even one word of praise would justify that answer. It would be delusional, but she would at least understand that.

Instead, the Phantom Thief gave a bitter smile and shook his head, to the Caster's surprise. "Nope," he bluntly answered. "Pretty much anyone that knew me – friends, family friends, teachers, and tutors, even people I regularly saw at the store – either cut ties with me, acted like I didn't exist, or just pretended they didn't know me as soon as news got out. As for my folks, aside from telling me they're kicking me to Tokyo, they didn't even bother so much as looking at me afterward. Guess that shattered whatever image they had conjured up of me to others and made them look like clowns."

He finished with a small, hollow chuckle as he ran a hand through his hair. Meanwhile, Tamamo's mouth opened slightly in shock and confusion. "There's… there's nothing?" she asked again. "Nobody believed you had done the right thing and instead universally condemned you? Then… then how do you not regret it? How were you able to answer your guardian without hesitation?"

The Master looked over with a raised eyebrow, but Tamamo hadn't finished. "All your chivalry and kindness has done was deprive you of what comforts and social standing you had," she continued. "And even then, you had not accomplished anything! For all you know, after you were arrested, that man could simply have had his way with that woman anyway, now blackmailed into compliance. In the end, you only succeeded in making your life miserable. So why…?"

Her voice petered out as Ren stared at her, his sharp grey eyes impassive and unreadable. Believing she had shown too much of her hand this time, she opened her mouth to apologize.

Only for the Phantom Thief to tilt his head in consideration, then smiled wistfully. Instead of immediately answering, he stepped toward the cell door, which opened without a touch. Curious, Tamamo followed. They stopped right outside, where the cell opened up into an entire section of a dungeon. The cells were mercifully empty – it was clear Ren and his friend had been the only prisoners at least in this section. In the middle, the stone floor plunged to a small stream below. Ramshackle bridges dotted it up and down, connecting both sides of the stream as various cages of all shapes hung, suspected in the darkness above.

"… You're right," Ren agreed. "I could've walked away. It wasn't my business to begin with and I had a lot on my plate. I could've just ignored everything, kept my head down, and kept playing the good boy and dutiful son that my parents wanted. All I had to do was just turn around." Then his smile widened. "But before I did that, I realized something."

Tamamo blinked owlishly. "And what would that be?" she inquired.

Her Master looked over and she saw the manic grin that spread on his face. "That I hated it," he stated bluntly. "I hated being just the 'good boy' who's just a trophy to his parents. I hated what Shido was doing. And most of all, I would hate whatever version of myself I would be if I knowingly just ignored all of this so I can stay safe and not cause a fuss."

His smile wavered as he looked back down at the blonde boy, who was staring up at his cognitive self and Arsene in pure terror. "Especially if it would've cost me the people I came to genuinely care for," he murmured.

The Caster stared at Ren. "But… in that time, you didn't succeed," she pointed out quietly. "You only came to harm. You still do not regret it?"

Ren grinned and shook his head. "Not then, not now, and not ever," he confirmed without hesitation. "If it gets me in a lot of trouble, then so be it. Call it my own selfishness and idiocy, sure, but better that than being someone who won't do the right thing when the situation desperately needs it. It doesn't matter if it accomplishes nothing, or if the only result is pain or even death. I won't stand being someone who doesn't fight back against injustice, no matter what."

Tamamo's eyes widened as her mouth fell open slightly in shock. Comprehending and reconciling what she saw with what her Master declared was difficult. She heard of such ideals before, but only as lip service or childish dreams at most. Everyone sought and even spilled blood for their own gain, no more and certainly no less. And yet here was Ren, willing to sacrifice everything… simply for such a childish ideal?

"… If that truly is the case, Master," she whispered. "Then you are undoubtedly an absolute fool. One who is willingly blind to the cruelty and apathy of the world. All you will achieve is your self-satisfaction, no more and no less – and you would drag others into it too. You are charming enough for that. You have experienced it firsthand and have learned nothing. No, you have instead reinforced your own selfish beliefs."

The Phantom Thief waited until she finished her tirade as he stared down at her, expressionless. "… But?" he asked, sensing a continuation.

The Caster took a breath. "But… I believe there is something I'm still missing," she stated. "You may act foolish, but it is clear you are no idiot. Nor are you so selfish as to drag others along with you to a road filled with nothing but damnation. So I ask you again, Master – what is your ultimate desire and goal? You say it is for self-satisfaction and while I do not doubt that is the case, there must be more to it than something so base or simple."

A smirk creased Ren's face before he stepped out of the exhibit and silently beckoned. Tamamo narrowed her eyes slightly and followed him. This time, instead of going past any more exhibits, they stepped onto the glass platforms in the opening instead. Despite having no rails or safety measures, they both walked with ease as though they were on solid ground. Reaching the elevator, it began ascending once they entered, the various floors and exhibits zooming by.

The Caster could only observe with no small amount of curiosity simply the breadth of the location and the varied experiences her Master had gone through. Though she had promised herself she wouldn't come back, she couldn't help but wish she could explore this mindscape more thoroughly. Noticing they were slowing down, she turned around in question to find they were near the top.

"We're here," Ren announced.

They stepped out and were greeted by an enormous exhibit before them. Standing on its own platform was a gigantic golden chalice that dwarfed both her and her Master. It was of an unorthodox design – there seemed to be metallic braces encompassing the chalice, bound together by machinery, while it was surrounded by golden wing and feather designs. Even though it was a still object, it nevertheless radiated a certain majesty and power.

To Tamamo, it gave off a similar feeling as that winged humanoid – Uriel – that accosted her at the entrance. But this being felt far more restrictive, to the point of suffocating.

It took the Caster a moment to find her voice. "… to clarify, Master," she finally spoke. "You told us you had not participated in a Grail War, correct?"

Ren smiled humorlessly and shook his head. "I didn't," he confirmed. "But you're technically correct – we were fighting against a Holy Grail. One made to grant the wishes of the public."

Before the miko could inquire further, he snapped his fingers again. The world exploded into white as she felt that lurching feeling again. As the light lifted, she found herself standing in a circular area. The walls were lined with jail cells, all glowing with a red light and shrouding the prisoners within. In an instant, she realized with shock where she was: A panopticon prison. In the center of it all stood the same gigantic golden cup. This time, a pair of golden gauntlets, their hands almost unnaturally open, flanked it on either side as a number of golden chains flowed from the walls and connected to the base of the Grail, the lengths utterly slack yet still undeniable in their grip.

In contrast, facing the Grail were a group of teenagers, all rather garishly dressed and wielding various weapons – and at the front was her Master, dressed in the black coat and white mask that she had seen him in the last exhibit. They looked so small in comparison to what they faced, the defiance they showed was unmistakable.

"Meet the Holy Grail – or as he calls himself, Yaldabaoth," Ren replied. The Caster turned to see her Master staring at the golden chalice, his disdain and defiance clear on his expression. "The self-proclaimed god of control. As you can see, he took the form of the Holy Grail to grant the wishes of the people – or what he believed they wished for, anyway."

"… And what did they wish for?" she asked, her voice faint, unable to tear her eyes away from the artifact before her. This being, this Holy Grail, felt… familiar. Far too familiar. Gods were meant to fulfill prayers and wishes, after all. Just as she had done so, lifetimes ago.

The Phantom Thief frowned slightly. "They wished for someone to rule over them," he answered, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. "For someone they could fob all responsibility to. Someone to think and decide for them. They wanted to be liberated from choosing, from living their own lives, from thinking and believing – in themselves and in others. To them, a prison would be their paradise."

The Caster blinked in confusion a few times, then her eyes widened. "Then this is-" she began, staring at the cells around her.

Ren nodded in confirmation. "This was their paradise," he confirmed, unable to keep the disgust from his voice. "They were safe. And because they were safe, they were happy. To that end, the Grail created a 'game' I was unknowingly made to participate in: To see if the people wanted security or change."

He smiled humorlessly. "But as always, gods always have to make sure they win – including by rigging the entire game," the Phantom Thief remarked. "He twisted public opinion, doing everything he could to negate our results, even forced someone like Shido to still be elected after confessing everything in public – all so he could be right. To that end, we defied and fought with everything we had."

Then his smile widened. "Though he didn't make that easy," he added.

Suddenly, everything began quaking around them. Her Master observed events impassively as the walls and floor fell away, both to the teenagers' and the miko's surprise. As they parted, the evening sun shone through and revealed the vast expanse both above and below them. They were in the skies now, where no shadow or darkness could reach them. This was clearly the enemy's territory.

The wings that decorated the Grail suddenly outstretched, bursting open through the machinery and revealing the 'head' of that geometric nightmare she had seen before. With an ominous, machine-like humming through the air, the being ascended, far larger and far greater than the exhibit had displayed. It utterly dwarfed both them and the other teenagers to insignificance.

Tamamo's eyes widened in both wonder and terror. "Heavens…" she gasped.

Her Master snapped his fingers again and suddenly, everything came to life. The teenagers sprang into action, fighting against the divine being. Using their own guardians, they blasted the godlike being with magics similar to Ren's own while Yaldabaoth countered with his own abilities, cast from those items it held in its spindly arms. To her surprise, she recognized many of the guardians – or rather, personas - by impressions if not appearance: From the legendary Monkey King to the Greek Titan of Forethought. She even noticed her other Master, Morgana, with the Roman God of Messengers at his side.

And then she blanched at the blue-skinned sword-wielding Persona. He may have a different appearance, but she recognized the form of the God of Storms Susano'o almost immediately. The god was apparently wielded by a slight raven-haired young man dressed in loose black clothing and wearing a white mask reminiscent of a fox, complete with a tail. It wasn't as fluffy as hers, not even close, but she felt a small kinship regardless. He also wielded a katana as well, the blade flashing out elegantly and glinting coldly in the fading sunlight. The only thing that clashed with his rather traditional garb was the assault rifle he whipped out at times, firing at the being in bursts.

"That's one of my friends, Yusuke," Ren commented with a warm smile, noticing where Tamamo's gaze had wandered. "A man who's given himself heart and soul over to his art and companions. He's pretty traditional, though he can be pretty unorthodox and eccentric." His smile widened. "He tends to go by the moniker of 'Fox' during our missions," he added wryly.

Tamamo's ears twitched at the information. "Fox?" she echoed, now watching the boy fight with renewed interest as cast ice magics, freezing over several parts of the false god. He called himself one of her own and even bore a flattering resemblance, yet the fact he bore a persona she had some familiarity with brought no small number of mixed feelings, to put it mildly.

She shoved aside her personal feelings. Susano'o didn't matter to her, nor was this the time to get distracted. Tearing her eyes away from the boy – Yusuke or Fox as he was called – she found Ren also fighting. Unlike his companions, he switched between different beings with dizzying speed, casting a wide array of abilities as he bombarded their foe with magic, blade, and bullet alike.

As they battled, however, her ears twitched as they caught another sound, faint but growing louder. Cheers and roars from the cityscape below. She turned to Ren in question, but her Master simply flashed her an enigmatic smile before turning back to watch the battle play out. At first it sounded like a few raucous fans, but more gradually joined in until it became an overwhelming wave of sound.

It was as if she beheld a theatre or stage play of the greatest proportions. The audience roared as each blow was evaded and cheered with each successful hit as light, flames, ice, steel, and other magics danced in a filigree of splendor. They cried out as Yaldabaoth pulled out more implements and tools and roared as the Thieves, struck by the sins from the false god, occasionally turned on one another or simply were incapacitated. Each time one of them was knocked down, those below gasped in horror – and their cheers redoubled when through magic or through grit, they stood up once again and kept fighting.

Despite everything she had witnessed, despite the sheer power and enmity she could sense from the godlike being, she couldn't help but feel even the slightest sliver of hope and desire blossom in her heart. Like the audience, she couldn't help but cheer for them in her mind. Their sheer grit, to seize their victory from this angelic abomination and strike it down. An impossible battle, perhaps, but is challenging the impossible not what heroes are meant to do? And indeed, it seemed like the Thieves were making headway into their battle. Victory was within their reach.

Then there was a vicious, powerful pulse of dark light – and all of them were all blown off their feet, badly wounded. Then they were blasted again. And again. The audience cried out in terror and were silenced as the Thieves were nearly defeated with all the ease of a person swatting a fly.

"… You are losing," Tamamo commented faintly, watching as the God of Control fired upon them all. In the end, she knew this would be the outcome. If this being was what the people wanted, with their combined cognition and resulting mystery that came from their belief, then it was the inevitable conclusion. She knew all too well what it was like to make so many people one's foes, no matter what one wished or wanted.

She bit the bottom of her lip as she remembered the armies upon armies that marched out to subdue her. By then, she wanted nothing more than to be left in peace. But fate had not been kind to her before, nor had it been kind to her then. In the end, she could only wash blood with more blood just to protect herself, until she truly became the monster they all feared. That was her inviolable conclusion, just as her Master's fight was here.

"Yaldabaoth had a point," Ren admitted to her surprise. "The will of the people is a powerful thing, one that even we had a hard time defying. If things played out how he wanted, then we'd have lost here, disposed of, and everyone would be bound in their comfortable prisons of control until the end of time."

Tamamo looked over at her Master – and to her surprise, found him smiling wryly again. "But I like to think people can change," he remarked. "And a lot of the time, it starts small." Turning around, he strolled to the edge of the platform, leaving the confused Caster to follow.

The two looked out over the city landscape, so tiny and distant below them. Silence reigned after seeing the Phantom Thieves so viciously destroyed despite their best efforts. Then a single voice rose into the air. At first, there was naught more but that one amongst the emptiness, soon to be suppressed like a candle in a windstorm.

Then before long, another voice joined that single call, shouting to the skies. Then a third, and a fourth. Soon, even more began raising their voices in turn. Before long, there was a unanimous, raucous din that roared to the very heavens themselves. Her ears twitched as she listened to them all in surprise and awe.

The people were cheering: Cheering for her Master and her companions. They were cheering for the Phantom Thieves.

A sudden pulse of power from behind caught her attention. Whirling around, she saw her Master's Persona – Arsene – appear once again. The past Ren reached forward and grasped the ever-present chains that floated around the being and with a mighty pull, shattered them. The red-coated being roared as the cerulean flames blazed forth in an inferno – and they disappeared, leaving behind only blue sparks. That seemed to be the end of it, yet the Caster could only feel a cold sweat of anticipation and trepidation down her back.

Then the skies darkened as distant thunder rumbled.

Turning again in trepidation, Tamamo beheld as a being, infinitely greater and vaster than even the false god, descended. A being of pure, unmitigated darkness, silent yet liberating to the greatest degree possible. Dressed in what could only be considered a lord's attire, it wore a helmet with golden horns and dim, crimson eyes. It was matched by great pauldrons that ended in claws, and on its back were six great pairs of black wings, starting off feathered before tapering off into demonic hide. Above its head was a circling halo, lined with demonic wings.

The being's very presence caused her to inadvertently take a step back both in awe and terror before turning her wide eyes to her Master. This was what dwelled inside Ren Amamiya?!

"Pillage them," commanded the past Ren. "Satanael!"

"What I ultimately want, Tamamo," her Master began, seizing the Caster's attention as he began walking towards his past self. "Is simple and complicated. What I want is freedom. And not just for myself."

Both him and the past Ren raised their hands. In the latter's case, motes of light – the wishes and wills of the public – gathered into his hand, transforming and solidifying into a gun. Something the current Ren did by pantomiming a finger gun. "I want that freedom for everyone," he declared. "The freedom to choose for themselves, to think for themselves. To choose what and who they want to be responsible for, and the freedom to bear the consequences of their decisions for good and bad."

Lifting their respective guns, they pointed it at Yaldabaoth – and Tamamo watched with sheer awe, terror, and some distant spark of hope as Satanael raised his own gigantic rifle in turn, training the barrel right at the god of control's head. "And to the tyrants who wish to deny people that freedom, that choice over their own lives and destiny?" he continued. "I only have one thing to bid them."

"Begone."

The demon lord fired, the bullet pierced the god's head, and all that was left was a sound like the shattering of glass and bells.

The Phantom Thief turned around and smiled as Yaldabaoth fell behind him, dissipating into nothing. "That is what I want, Tamamo," he finished. "I want that freedom for everyone – for good and for bad."

Tamamo's mouth dropped as she listened to the words of her Master. Freedom? That was what he wanted, not just himself but for everyone? She knew what giving absolute freedom meant – she knew it all too well, in fact. It wasn't a gift, but a curse. One that would turn gods into monsters and men into beasts. It was the pinnacle of idiocy and foolishness, one that she would decry until her throat ran raw and she could no longer speak.

But as she watched the God of Control fall behind him, she considered more carefully. He had never said absolute freedom. He said freedom of choice, freedom of responsibility, and the freedom of consequence. To choose what burdens one would bear, as he said, for good and for ill. It was what he wanted for everyone, a world where everyone wasn't beholden to another, greater power – be it their superior or to their society as a whole. A world where people could decide their freedom and all that it entailed. As the idea sank in, the miko only had one conclusion.

"… you are mad," Tamamo whispered. "Completely and utterly mad. What you are asking for is no paradise or utopia – nor can I even denounce it as an instigator for bedlam and insanity. It is a complete impossibility you dream of. Even if you had a thousand Grails over a thousand lifetimes, you will never even come close to achieving such a dream. Gods, humans, beasts: they do not – cannot – work in that way. To believe even for an instant otherwise is the pinnacle of foolishness. Ren Amamiya, you surely cannot be such a fool. Are you?"

Ren chuckled. "If you think it's complete insanity or idiocy, I can't blame you," he agreed easily. "But I don't care. It's what I'm chasing, for myself and for everyone else. That's who I choose to be, with that very freedom I desire for you, me, and everyone else."

The Caster froze. "… for me?" she echoed faintly.

The Phantom Thief nodded, turning to Tamamo with an earnest smile. "For you too, Tamamo-no-Mae," he confirmed. "That freedom to choose who you ultimately want to be, independent of anyone else, and to accept the consequences that come with it. That's what I fought so hard for and will continue to fight for. No less."

He turned and smiled as Morgana began glowing. "I've already taken the first step towards that, after all," he pointed out cheekily as a bright light flashed, blinding the miko.

When it faded, they were back in the museum again, standing in front of the Grail. "Anything else you wanted to know, Tamamo?" he asked.

The Caster stared at Ren with wide eyes. Countless thoughts, questions, and recriminations ran through her mind, but there was no throughline she could pick out. None that immediately existed without some heavy pondering, anyway. She had absolutely no doubt her Master was mad – no, beyond mad. He held an utter delusion, a fantasy beyond a fantasy, one that was impossible to attain no matter what he did!

And yet, the image of the demon lord blasting a hole through that angelic abomination was seared into her eyes. The cheers of the people still rang in her ears. And above all, the words of her Master. That freedom he was aiming for, no matter how impossible or futile. Could she believe, perhaps even for an instant…?

"I have… no further questions," Tamamo admitted demurely. "There is much I have to consider after all you have shown and told me. How I can best serve you as a Servant, with you as my Master."

A tired smile spread across the miko's lips. "I believe you have been told you are a truly troublesome Master, Ren Amamiya," she remarked. "Permit me to echo that sentiment. You are as troublesome as you are remarkable."

Ren couldn't help but laugh in amusement. "Yeah, I get that a lot," he easily agreed with a grin. "But if you're that impertinent, I take it you don't have a problem anymore with me as your Master?"

The Caster hid her mouth behind her sleeve while shooting the Phantom Thief a mischievous look. "If you believe that was impertinence then you are more inexperienced than I expected," she shot back as she hid a smirk. "At the very least, you will require someone to keep you from floating off into the clouds as you pursue your madness. Whether all of us are enough for the task, even I can't say."

The Phantom Thief grinned. "Well, I look forward to what you have in mind, then," he replied. In his heart, he felt a new arcana forming – a Reversed Priestess this time. Well, he hadn't expected that, but given Loki was a Reverse Fool, it was clear Servants were different beings altogether. He had to hide his excitement. He couldn't wait to see what these bonds would bring.

"Tonight has been rather fruitful, so with your permission, I shall take my leave," Tamamo announced with a small bow.

"Granted," Ren replied with a smile. "Rest well, Tamamo. We've a busy day tomorrow."

"Indeed, we do," the Caster agreed. "Good evening to you as well." With that, she turned around and vanished as she withdrew her presence from the Thieves' Den and Ren's mindscape, leaving him alone in the den once more.

Ren breathed a small sigh of relief as his body relaxed. It had been a difficult balancing act – bringing Tamamo into the Thieves' Den had been a considerable risk. Convincing her wasn't beyond the cards – he had done so with Sae back in the interrogation room when he had only two hours to work with. Compared to that time, when he didn't have the Den and its myriad resources at his disposal, this was practically cakewalk in comparison. No, he knew he would be able to convince her.

The risk was with those who dwelled within the Den. He was certain the contract with Draco had no loophole that she could show herself, but there was no guarantee of it. Inviting Tamamo had been a gambit to test the boundaries of the contract and see her reactions. Throughout the night, he had been keeping a wary eye out for her presence, ready to push her into the furthest reaches of her mind if need be. Instead, she had been completely absent. He hadn't noticed even the faintest flicker of her presence during Tamamo's time here.

While the gambit had been a success to his relief, it wasn't something he wanted to try again. The less opportunities for Draco to show herself, the better. In the meantime, he had done what he set out to do. It was time to get what rest he could. Relaxing the hold on his mind, the Thieves' Den melted away into the void of slumber. Darkness took him, and he knew no more.

---

The morning came far sooner than Ren would've liked. Pale sunlight filtered in through the screen windows, illuminating the hut in a cool glow. It was still comfortably warm inside thanks to the burning talisman and the newly rebuilt house, enough that he was fine with snuggling into his sleeping bag further and dozing back off. It wasn't the most luxurious of conditions, sure, but he could sleep anywhere without too much of an issue if it was comfy enough.

He still remembered getting harangued for dozing off on top of the library bookshelves that one time. It wasn't his fault it was a nice, quiet location where he wouldn't be disturbed.

Still, he knew he had no choice. With a small sigh, he unzipped the bag from within and sat up with a yawn, blinking his eyes blearily to try and clear sleepiness from them. He wondered if he could at least make some coffee. Sure, it would be the instant stuff but it was better than nothing. He'd just choke it down while appreciating what small flavors it still retained, as well as either jerky or some packed MRIs for breakfast.

Ren chuckled to himself. Sojiro would either be complaining about the lackluster coffee or laughing at how spoiled his appetites had become – though it was definitely the old man's fault it became spoiled in the first place.

As he stretched and rolled his shoulders, he casually turned – and saw Tamamo there on her knees, her eyes closed as if in sleep. Suddenly, memories of last night trickled through. Right, she did visit the Thieves' Den the night before – or rather, she tried to intrude on it and instead was simply shown in by him. It had been a rather interesting evening and conversation they had, going over his past experiences. Ones he hadn't shared with anyone else yet, not even Mash. It had been refreshing.

Still, to think the Caster had the temerity to try and barge into his mental space like that – one of the few areas that he indisputably called his own. She hadn't suffered any worse consequences than a bit of a scare, but that couldn't be enough, could it? There needed to be some further retribution and recompense for such an act, one that emphasized how it wouldn't be tolerated. It seemed like a fair response: She had knowingly done something she knew he wouldn't approve of, after all. This was the natural conclusion.

His bleary eyes traveled up and down, taking the miko in. The Caster was a great beauty, as befitting of her myth. Her tails and ears looked incredibly soft, enough that he wanted to run his hands through their luxurious fur. She must take great pains maintaining and brushing them. The faint scent of autumn leaves reached his nose, something he hadn't noticed before. Was that a perfume or a natural scent from her? It was enticing either way.

His eyes traveled up to her bodice, where her pale, unblemished skin gleamed in both the sunlight and the fire, gracefully curving down. How tempting would it be to run his hands over them? He wondered how she would take it if he simply pushed her down? Her below him and him ready to seize her as he wished? The more he imagined it, the more his desires burned. The idea sounded… pleasurable, to put it mildly. Why not indulge a bit? It was just desserts for Tamamo's crimes, after all. Slowly lifting his hand, he reached toward Tamamo and hooked his finger over her top-

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and he yanked his hand away as he scrambled back. He stared in horror at Tamamo, who seemed to still be asleep, looked back down at his hand, then closed his eyes tightly. What the hell was that? Desires were all fine and well, but that… that wasn't him. He would never allow himself to indulge in something that disgusting. He wasn't Kamoshida, and he would sooner slice off his own arm than ever allow himself to drop to that level.

Then his mind quickly put the pieces together. The emphasis on lust and temptation, clouding his morals and what he truly desired for himself and for others. He could only think of one being that could influence him in such a manner.

"Draco."

A soft giggle caught his attention. "My, so close, so close~ It's a shame, really – you would have had a most delightful time."

Whirling around. Ren glared at the figure of Draco, who sat on a nearby chair in a corner. A gentle, sardonic smile curled her lips as she rested her chin on a hand. "What are you playing at, Draco?" he snapped.

The Beast Candidate's smile widened. "Why, nothing but the natural course of events," she responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "She intruded into your own mindscape with the intention of gleaning your secrets – without your permission I might add – and she thinks to get away with it? I believed the naughty fox was in need of some discipline. Consider it a small service from one who shares this space with the owner."

A chill ran down the Phantom Thief's spine as realization sank in. "You were aware and watching the whole time," he stated.

Draco giggled. "I never left," she confirmed. "By the rules of the contract, I'm not allowed to interfere with you and yours – not unless I am directly mentioned or inferred. And thus, I have kept to it: I had not shown myself then to Tamamo-no-Mae. I simply observed from afar, making sure she had not noticed me. I had not bothered to hide myself from you, but I'll admit it was amusing watching you try to find me the whole night."

"Still, I will admit my… annoyance," she continued. Standing up, the light shone through the semi-transparent red gossamer garb she wore, clearly illuminating her curvaceous body underneath as she stepped forward. "Playing with fire is no new act for you, Trickster, but this prank of yours… well, I can't leave such a challenge unanswered, now can I? I'm not nearly as demure as your other personas, after all."

Crouching down, she traced a claw underneath Tamamo's chin. "So, I thought I'd… encourage a few temptations you might have," she purred. "After all, this fox here had tried to invade your mind and thought to leave without any punishment. She of all people would understand that should not be the case – nor do I think she'd mind if she was punished. Foxes like her are rather… lascivious creatures, after all. All they require is a little push."

"She receives the punishment she rightly deserves, and both of you can indulge yourselves in each other to your hearts' content," she finished with an amused, malevolent grin. "You can even include the others if you so wish – all they require is just a few choice words and a push as well. A rather efficient solution to your problem, wouldn't you agree?"

Ren glared at Draco. "And it's also something I'm not interested in the slightest," he snapped. "You're going to have to try a little harder than that if you want me to fall for such things – and you're still not gonna win." He forced a grin at Draco – one similar to the one he bore when he first summoned Arsene. "I'll make sure of that."

"So you say," Draco simply replied, her smile not diminishing in the slightest. Ren huffed as he turned away and moved toward the entrance. A small walk before breakfast should clear his head from this entire affair.

"Why did you stop?"

Ren froze and turned to see Tamamo eyeing him curiously. "If you wished to claim or punish me," she murmured. "It would've been my just desserts for intruding into your mind in such a manner. I would not have minded, both as your Servant and as a woman. Is there something about my figure you find dissatisfying?"

The Phantom Thief froze as he heard an amused chuckle from the back of his mind. Rallying his composure, he smiled as he shook his head. "I don't treat anybody like that," he declined softly. "Especially not my Servants. You're not tools to me, but allies and friends. Exacting 'punishment' that way… isn't something I want to do. Just don't do it again, and I'll consider it square for now."

Tamamo stared at him for a moment, then lowered her head in acceptance. "A shame," she murmured under her breath, though the Master was still able to hear her. "Then as recompense, perhaps I can at least make you breakfast?" she suggested. "I might be able to make something a bit more palatable than what field rations you have brought."

Ren blinked a few times, then gave a genuine smile. "That would actually be great, Tamamo," he accepted. "I'm going for a small walk to clear my head a bit, then I'll take you up on that. Will that work?"

The Caster nodded. "Of course, Master," she replied with a small smile. "I look forward to your return."

The Phantom Thief nodded and finally stepped out into the morning light. He took a deep breath, the scent of salt and brine filling his nose and lungs, and exhaled, feeling a bit of the tension leaving him. He turned toward the docks – and found Draco leaning against the house with a wry smile on her face.

"Did I not say?" she stated simply.

"Not another word," Ren growled as he stomped by her. The sound of the Beast Candidate's laughs filled his mind as he walked toward the docks, where most likely Loki would be waiting with their schematics and blueprints.

They had a very long day ahead of them.