Chapter Text
“Ren. Listen to me,” she pleads, “If you love me, you have to let me go.”
He speaks up morosely from behind her back, arms circled around her torso, preventing her escape.
“You know I can’t do that, Futaba.”
She would turn to face him directly and properly give him a piece of her mind, but her current imprisonment makes that a little difficult. She settles for loudly voicing her displeasure, instead.
“Why not?!”
His reply is sympathetic, but firm.
“You told me that we’re coming to Nakano to ‘stuff ourselves full of noodles.’ And you said, in no uncertain terms, that if you get distracted by the displays in the other shops, I’m obligated to stop you through ‘whatever means necessary.’”
She lets out an indignant grumble, longingly eyeing the pricey Featherman figures through the glass, the shiny plastic taunting her from within the confines of its packaging.
… Admittedly, she did tell Ren all that stuff – she’s saving up for new PC parts, so she has to hold back on other purchases for a while, but still…
“And besides,” he interrupts her train of thought, “Don’t you already have these figures in your room?”
She sighs dramatically, throwing her hands down and reluctantly surrendering, before he finally releases her from her captivity.
“Yeah, I do… This set is just a newer version with smoother joints. Makes it easier to move them around and switch parts and stuff.”
He considers her words for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in thought.
“… Haven’t you just kept yours in the same poses ever since you got them, though?”
“Um… W-well…”
Okay, he has a point. The same day they were delivered, she had painstakingly perfected their poses and put them on display, then never moved them again. After all, why would she need to? They’re set up exactly as she likes them.
But what if she changes her mind and decides to shake things up, some day? It would be nice to know that she has the option.
Well, technically, she already has that option, even with her old figures…
“Oh, yeah,” he continues, “There was also that one time Yusuke messed with them, when we first hung out in your room. It upset you so much that you cursed him with permanent association to fried tofu.”
The memory elicits a snort of laughter out of her. She still thinks that nickname was absurdly clever – perhaps one of her best works.
“That was mostly because it took me forever to set them up just right, and then he messed them all up and went all Frankenstein on them,” she shivers at the memory of her precious children, brutally hacked to pieces and reassembled in a horrifying mismatch of body parts. “… Inari really has no sense of aesthetic.”
“I’m pretty sure he’d have an aneurysm if he heard you say that.”
“I’m pretty sure I almost had one when I saw what he did to—”
Suddenly, she’s cut off by a loud growl emanating from her stomach. And, as if reacting to the reminder of their original objective, Ren’s stomach follows suit with a mighty growl of its own.
With another exaggerated, defeated sigh, she reluctantly tears herself away from the displays and tugs weakly at his sleeve.
“Let’s just go, already… I can’t bear to stay here any longer.”
…
The fried noodles are warm and delicious, at least, and serve to fill up the void in her stomach… and in her heart.
---
“Futaba. Please.” His knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping the strap of his bag, standing tall in front of her. The grave, dead-set look on his face is plainly in her view. “If you love me, you have to let me go.”
“I can’t do it, Ren. I can’t lose you again,” she holds his gaze defiantly, enduring firmly as the final, solitary obstacle between him and Leblanc’s exit. “Not like this…”
“Why…?” His eyes are saddened, unbelieving. “How could you betray my final wishes, at a time like this?”
Sojiro is watching them amusedly from behind the counter, looking incredibly confused by, but also wholly unsurprised with, their antics. He’s probably just thankful that there are no customers around right now to witness their little quarrel.
Personally, though, Futaba thinks their little quarrel has gone on long enough.
“I’m not betraying your wishes,” she stamps her foot down angrily, “I’m following them! You told me to do this, you…”
Her mind suddenly draws a blank, and then, for whatever reason, draws a snack instead. “… you unsalted pretzel!”
For a moment, the weird insult renders him completely speechless, shocking him more than any other vulgar remark she could’ve thrown his way. Even she doesn’t know where it came from, to be honest – she sort of just panicked and let it slip, but now that she thinks about it… it was kinda brutal.
What a shame it would be, to live life as a sad, flavourless pastry…
And he must agree, because it takes him a full second to regain his bearings… and to stop himself from bursting out in laughter.
“I…” He clears his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He’s clearly trying to feign ignorance, but she sees the flash of guilt that passes his features. He knows exactly what she’s talking about.
“Hmm… I believe your exact words were,” she deepens her voice as far as it’ll go, and uses her fingers to mime a second pair of glasses over her own, “‘Futaba, if I ever say I’m going to take the Big Bang Challenge again, I need you to stop me. No matter the cost.’”
“… Ah,” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes diverted to one side. “Did I really say that?”
He did, indeed, say that, hunched over in Leblanc’s bathroom, hurling up a burger thrice the size of his head. It had happened on two separate occasions – and those are only the ones she was there to witness.
She manages to convey this entire sentiment with a single, very unimpressed look. Still through her finger-glasses, of course.
“… Point taken.”
He at least has enough decency to look somewhat ashamed… but apparently, not enough to throw in the towel.
“But c’mon, Futaba. I’ve grown since then! I’m a changed man, now…” He clenches his fists with determination. “I can do this.”
He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than her, but isn’t quite succeeding at either task.
She also doesn’t really understand how watching rented DVDs and playing videogames makes him a ‘changed man,’ but he swears by their effectiveness. As if they somehow passively raise his stats, or something.
“… And besides,” he continues, “Ryuji found some free coupons, and we have to make use of them by tomorrow, or they’ll expire. I agreed to help him out – I can’t just violate the Bro Code like that!”
She realizes that the coupons (and the sanctity of the Bro Code) are probably the actual reason he’s so insistent on this, even after he knows what happened last time. And of course, they have to make the most of the opportunity, so they have no choice but to order the largest burgers they possibly can…
Oh well. If Ren regrets it later, it’ll be fun to rub it in his face.
“… Welp. I tried,” she shrugs, electing to simply watch the chaos unfold. “You have to take me with you, though! I’ve gotta see the look on Ryuji’s face when they come out with that monster.”
He grins, pumping a victorious fist. “Alright, it’s a deal!”
…
To Ren’s credit, he actually does manage to keep the colossal burger down this time, even after returning home. Ryuji, on the other hand, shortly after finishing an impressive two-thirds of his own meal, is not so lucky.
Similarly unlucky is the now-defiled trash can outside the restaurant, its only crime being its convenient proximity to the entrance. RIP in peace, sweet prince, RIP in peace.
… Unfortunate casualty aside, the look on Ryuji’s face was, indeed, priceless… as were the handful of fries she sneakily stole from Ren’s takeout bag, when he wasn’t looking.