Chapter Text

“This was a very important detail to leave out of your retellings Joker.”

The Monabus is a bit cramped with Rōnin taking up far too much space thanks to her augments, but that’s not what Rōnin’s talking about as the group make their exit. No, and neither is she talking about the fact that the Courthouse has utterly collapsed behind her, the monument to the sin of Self-Loathing collapsing with its beating heart ripped out of it. She’s talking about the massive haul of loot from the battlefield. All that yen, and the strangely tainted items of a courthouse that emanate an urge to expose your own sins, fashioned from casino chips and stationary. Even divided between them all, it had to number a million and a half each accounting for Joker’s share of half of the money pool for gear procurement. According to Prometheus’s calculations and Oracle’s firm assurance of his 95% accuracy.

“I just made a year’s bonus. A. A year's bonus. In one day.” Rōnin can't believe it. She'd wanted some of the share, rightly so since she put in a lot of hard work but…this much money? In one day? What has she been doing with her life!? 

“Easy. Greed isn't a good look on anyone, least of all you.” Yoritomo’s questioning tone belies the glint of avarice in Rōnin’s eyes, or what he believes to be avarice. But the renewed fighter has already tempered the aspect of wanting all of the spoils of war, and the flash in the pan thought of going alone. She didn’t get in this group for the money. She got in it because her form of Justice involved breaking the chains of guilt and remorse clasped around her wrists and throat, casting aside her shame and even her pride for a second.

And it had already paid her back in mass dividends. If the wages of sin were financial safety in exchange for her soul, then she expected her path to atone to pay little in exchange for her soul back. Yet, looking at her share, she can have both?

“I know, I shouldn’t be greedy. But…how many therapy sessions could this pay for? How many fun outings with Mako Mako? I’ve not had the chance to really treat her and I to something other than a half-life of relative comfort. And now, I could do that!” Her conflict is somewhat complex, not greed per se, but starting to realize what the freedoms of this new position have granted her. Growing pains for a new Thief. 

“Well…a movie night once or twice couldn’t hurt. I get to pick first, right?”

“...You are me though.”

Yoritomo’s face may be masked by cold iron to protect it, but the sheer… sass from his rebuttal is unmistakable. “And?”

The fact that she is even considering humouring her other self like this is insanity. “...Fine! One. It better be good though.”

Yet his excitement is infectious. “Yes!”

Strictly speaking all of this should be impossible. So should a cognitive world wherein she’s able to throw a solid marble table twice her size with but a flex of her wiry muscles, very much a juxtaposition between how lean she is and how capable of brutality she has become. The power of harnessed anger in the palm of her hand, embracing who she is and rejecting what the world thinks of her as pointless. She can live, not just…survive. 

“What would you have in mind, Sis?” Queen inquires with a tilt of her head, scribbling down the readings Prometheus is giving on Yoritomo in a more translatable format than his primordial language that speaks in concepts rather than in syllables. 

Shaking her head from side to side quickly, Rōnin gets out of her introspective mood for a second. “...Excuse me, I was thinking about something. What did I miss?” 

“Oh, nothing! I just heard you mutter that you could do things now? What’s on your mind?”

Rōnin’s processing time is about a second, but her time to react is just as quick. Somewhat bashfully, she responds under what feels like the cloak of serenity. “I was thinking about what I could do with my share. Save it, probably. I must have said it out loud.”

But Queen won’t have that. Not at all. “Unacceptable. I hear there's a nice sushi restaurant in Kichijoji, we'll go there with my share.”

Rōnin's surprise at the suddenness of Queen’s offer is tempered with reason. “It's a lot of money to be spending without any recorded source of income. If. And only if! We go, it's coming from my share.”

Noir decides to butt in on the conversation, sitting back down from her place as explosive sentry with an oof and the round in her grenade launcher unloaded. “Rōnin, if you're worried about people investigating our sudden financial gains, don't be. That's my line of expertise.”

“Oh God,” Sae thinks to herself, “How did they not get caught sooner.”

What Rōnin says however, is much less inflammatory, despite the barely hidden edge in her voice. “I trust you’re not doing anything immoral with our gains, Noir?”

Noir’s shocked gasp is obviously played up for her own amusement, given the somewhat excited glint in her eye upon getting the chance to explain her money laundering scheme. “Who me? No, ma belle-sœur! I simply dangle the money as unmarked executive bonuses for the corrupt members of Okumura Foods, then confront them with the evidence of their malfeasance at the next board meeting, which I have held weekly. Either they quietly resign...or I let their peers tear them apart. Either way, their bonus vanishes into thin air, while their exorbitant salaries are redistributed as funds for the bottom line of our employees. It does mean our big hauls take a week to process, but we must all pay prices for financial safety. Weeds do grow something fierce in fertile soil.”

The cloaked lawyer/brawler can’t help but balk at the sheer simplicity of the plan. Weaponize pride and greed, utilize the cutthroat nature of capitalism to cut down further investigation? It's crude. But given how there was a large controversy over a car insurance company heavily punishing its sales managers for not meeting exorbitant sale benchmarks, along with the previous practices of Okumura Foods wringing out every last drop of life from its employees in an iron grip? Crude it may be, but Sae’s read the reports while in what she thought was normal, but now she understands was a horrible haze.

Ever since Kunikaze died, Okumura Foods has only risen in popularity. And while their profit margins have remained stable, that is a hell of an accomplishment given the sweeping reforms given from the highest office. Sae thought at the time it would have had to have been someone close to Kunikaze, maybe Takakura, managing the business while Haru grieves and lives a normal life.

Rōnin is not so easily fooled. Noir had chosen a method of grieving pertinent to her agency, what she fought against her father to reacquire. She chose to take her life, and her birthright back, the only inheritance that her father could give her even with his life splattered all over it. And with how casually the young potential CEO speaks of her plans, like she's been preparing all of her life for her moment to shine? There is only one conclusion to be made, one place where all the evidence leads.

“She is the driving arm behind Okumura Foods, the half-cloaked in shadow force behind its resurgence in the face of tragedy. Its unseen guiding star, the gardener who plucks the weeds from the crop.” And Takakura is her hand, deeply trusted. Her Confidant, perhaps? 

“When was the last time you had the time to have a nice night out with Queen, Rōnin?”

Noir's question is horrible even with how kindly it’s worded. Not for its content, but for how revealing the answer is of how long the two of them suffered. By fate. And then, by her. A celebration for passing the bar exam. Makoto smiled so brightly when she heard the news, her big sis, a prosecutor at the age of twenty-two! Back then, all was still in tumult with their father’s death, but it seemed like things would be alright. But the cracks were starting to show even then, when Sae looked at her Mako Mako and couldn’t feel the simple joy of her accomplishment, but instead felt that Makoto had better be grateful.     

Rōnin though? She could. With absolution washing the self-inflicted burdens of her sins from her back, one by one? She could find that time where Envy and Self-Loathing once robbed those hours from her. Steal them back. 

“...Not for three years. Not enough time in the day, as exhausting as work was. But once this haul is processed? What about…next Monday, Queen?”

Queen’s smile and nod in response while finishing up her notes on Prometheus’s analysis is soft and genuine, but her voice has something sly in it. The very image of a comedian about to present their punchline, or a detective finding the somehow still smoking gun in what was thought to be a cold case. Here comes the setup…

“I don’t think we’ll have to wait that long. Right Joker?”

And then Joker provides the payoff.

“No this is a small haul, relatively speaking. Long as you don’t do anything excessive like, buy a motorcycle, you’re good.”

“…Clearly I must have misheard,” Rōnin thinks. Or rather, she prays she misheard. But those prayers are clearly either unheard, or heard by a cruel god. Because here comes Noir’s confirmation.

“Mhm! Having to file away that sixty million paycheck was an ordeal, thank you very much Joker! ”

In between Sae’s buffering thought process and Yoritomo’s shocked look beneath his iron visage, Joker retorts with what he intends to be a rationalizing statement.

“We needed the money! If this falls through, our backup plans need that funding! And you offered, Noir!”

And it may work for Noir, through the fond look she gives her axe while sharpening its peerless edge,

“Yes, but finding a set of executives/managers that were that mired in corruption that they'd take such egregious bait? Troublesome.”

But it won't work for Sae, incredulous at the team's ambition, but also the amount of forethought required. It’s not quite a shout she responds in, but damned close in disbelief.

“Sixty million yen!? How. How did you not get spotted sooner. How did I not spot such a massive influx of income appearing from thin air! Was I really so blind?”

Noir's always had it planned out. From start to finish, somewhat wistfully, Noir gives her secret to evading the old Sae’s grasp.

“It was the one gift my father gave me when his greed won out. It's all classified as company business, and my purge of Shido’s tendrils did also cut out the SIU’s moles in his inheritance to me. Some offense meant.”

“None taken, the SIU were more than happy to take everything from anyone they could, but sixty million yen!? How. How!”

“Well, a few rounding errors here and there, and about half my cut going to the poor accountants who run our internal audits as bonuses along with their pay rises finally exceeding the country standard? Loyalty is easily nurtured with a little care. Like strawberries!”

Rōnin’s disbelief at Noir’s machinations, not far removed from any corporate villain yet distinctly done through a compassionate lens, has to go on pause when Queen moves to her side with her notes done. 

“Two things. I’ve done all my studying and homework for the next few weeks, so I’m free pretty much any evening you can find the time sis. Second, Prometheus just finished analysing what your Persona can do. Would you like the briefing now, or-”

“Now please. I’d like to get the idea that somehow Noir has weaponized corporate greed as a force for good out of my head. And your apparently massive safety plans for if things go wrong?”

“Oh those were my idea! Initially we had them on offshore accounts with Or-”

“Please Queen.”

“Right. So, as you’ve seen, our Personae can do a lot of attacks that are often classified under specific elements, fire, ice and so on so forth. I can give you a more detailed briefing on what they do and how they feel to use/get hit by, but in your case, they’re not important for understanding Yoritomo.”

The glossing over of what seems like such an important detail can only mean one thing in Rōnin’s eyes.

“Because I don’t deal in elements?”

The spark of pride and recognition in Queen’s eyes? Priceless. Like gold. 

“Yes! Both in regards to dealing, and to receiving. No resistances or weaknesses. If anything it's…startlingly fair? A Persona is the heart's strength made manifest… Actually, this makes a lot of sense. Rōnin, what was your vow to Yoritomo?”

That's something that Rōnin needs a bit of time to explain, though her tone does not waver. Conviction is behind it, a reforged will.

“He was the shard of me that I sealed away to become a prosecutor. What I considered naïve, but I should have protected it instead of cutting it out. I asked him for the strength to keep my sacrosanct vows. Those being to protect those I hold dear, and to bring Justice for those I have wronged. And he added one more, that we would shine despite the guilt marring our shared heart. It. It felt right. Denying Janus, defying the Court. Embracing my darker parts, taking back the strength to fight for the Justice I once believed in so vehemently. No part of me clamored about the odds, the need to keep winning. I only wanted to make things right.”

“And we will, Sister-in-arms. Will against will. Blade against blade, fist against fist. No more dirty tricks. You've always deserved better than having to rig cruel games in your favour.”

Queen's nod towards Yoritomo’s continuation is understanding, both in the honesty of the vow and its inherent self-compassion, but the look on her face speaks of something clicking into place. A deduction. Or perhaps, a new way of thinking, one that Queen throws out.

“I think your vows have manifested into Yoritomo’s skills. There’s a single focus in your skillset Rōnin. Violence. You’ve got no utility, no debuffs, you just deal damage. Like Yoritomo said, your strength of heart pitted against the enemies. And given what we're tracking, that's something you can easily handle. So much damage and nothing else.”

And Rōnin can pick her line of thinking from there easily. “That…would make sense. No trickery, no deceit, just the honest practice of me beating the enemy until either their will breaks or their body does. Or well. As honest as that can be.”

“It might not be the only thing you're beating to death. Do you remember when you cast Benkei’s Doom, Rōnin?”

A thousand more Shadows could have been on that battlefield and it wouldn't have changed anything. All. Would. Perish. She had vowed to do so. 

And so, it happened.

“Yes. Yoritomo asked me for a blood price to do what I asked him to do. Was this unusual?”

And now it's Fox’s time to weigh in, Queen not exactly having the words at the moment to explain what she’s thinking in a scientifically accurate sense. Not just yet.

But Fox knows well what it means to pay a blood price.

“Not entirely. When I, and others, ask for physical destruction in these commands? We do have to pay prices in vitality, often in the form of headaches or dizziness. But what you did is distinctly different. Like a fresh splash of crimson on a dried bloodstain. Such superposition…”

That's enough to lead into Queen’s point, after Fox leaves off, clearly imagining such a scene, and what it would look like.

“Which I didn't understand until I looked at Yoritomo’s Trait. Each Persona has one, and it acts as a defining characteristic, if that makes sense? Yours is just. More damage for more price paid. Here, I'll give you what Prometheus asked me to write. The format is the best way we’ve found to transcribe his data.”

Queen hands over the Buchimaru notepad eagerly, and Sae accepts it with all the reverence of a holy text before parsing its knowledge.

Rōnin/Yoritomo: Level 70.

Strength: 70.

Magic: 0.

Endurance: 80.

Agility: 50.

Luck: 40.

Persona Trait: Blood Pact. Health costs for damage skills cost double, and can down Rōnin. Damage skills have extra damage and critical strike chance based on health spent.

As always, Rōnin's quick on the uptake, handing back the notebook to Queen in about a few seconds of scanning and association.

“So, I'm guessing that my Persona usage beforehand was fuelled by adrenaline, and my casting of Benkei’s Doom finally tapped me out?”

Queen's nod gives her all she needs to know, but the continuation can't exactly hurt.

“Yes. And-”

The Monabus interrupts her with a yowl through the speakers. Something about that cat really gets on Rōnin’s nerves, even as they're close to the exit to do recon.

“We’ve got cognitions, twelve o’clock! And one of them has the Treasure!”

Immediately the team springs into action mode, guns held in hands. Joker has his hand on the bus door, but clearly he's waiting for Oracle's count.

And that count is worrying.

“There’s four cognitions. Wait. No, three. Two?”

“I need a clear reading Oracle.”

“I'm trying, it's just, they're either somehow cloaking themselves, or-”

The abrupt stop of the vehicle promptly stops Oracle from speaking. So too, does the call from a single cognition. The only reading Oracle has on her sensors, right in front of the exit point. Makoto’s voice. Grizzled and scarred. The cognition of Queen. And the six cognitions kneeling beside her, who have a hole where their hearts should be, hands proffering up some indescribable thing to the cognitive clone. With the armoured refraction of Queen’s hand glowing with a fading light, she addresses the van.

“Rōnin! We have a settlement to discuss!”

Mona's not in the mood to negotiate, and his engine revs up. Unfazed, the Cognition approaches, still shouting over the Monabus’s hiss.

“The Court’s Treasure. I have it. You are owed it.”

That catches the team’s attention immediately. Joker turns his head back to Rōnin with a question on his lips-

Only to see Rōnin already at the door, with a determined look in her eye and her Shadow arm steady, looking back at Joker with another question in her glance.

Both questions act as answers for the other. The same thing on both of their minds. So all Joker has to say is this.

“You need help, just signal.”

And Rōnin’s dismissal, though self-assured, is truly out of respect for the young man who she is more than willing to call ringleader for the time being.

“Pfft. If.”

Rōnin opens the door to the Court's outermost point, stepping out with all the confidence she's rightly earned for what happened on this fated night. An aspiring Thief. A brutal killer. An apt pupil.

What more could she become, with her heart her own again?

The Cognition awaits. Rōnin casts aside her mask, and now the Cognition has to deal with both a very bloodthirsty Thief…and the Persona who just called down the wrath of an army. A terrifying pair of foes to fight. 

A shame for them both, that she doesn't plan to fight them.

Rōnin starts the negotiation process with no small amount of wariness in her voice.

“I came. Do you plan to fight me?”

The sigh from the Cognition is not pained, but weary. So very weary. 

“No. I plan to give you your Treasure.”

That brings Rōnin some pause. Yes, this Cognition was helpful. But to give the core of a Palace? More importantly, the core of a Palace that has shifted and mutated into something far more terrible than simple Envy? What drives the Shadow? 

“...What’s the catch?”

The Cognition too, goes for her mask. Yoritomo puts his hand on his spear, ready to cut through the Cognitive Queen if needs be, but Rōnin hasn't given him the command yet. Not just yet. Steeling herself to see the skinned again face of her beloved sister, Rōnin does not falter when the mask pops off like a cork from a champagne bottle-

Only to reveal that the Cognition's face has changed. This version of Queen, of her little sister, has skin again. No longer the grotesque flayed testament to her sins. Still scarred, yes. But there's a nobility to her bearing, in the way her red eyes look at this new version of Sae like she's something far different than what she came in as. If the previous version of the Cognition was a foot-soldier, this one is a field general. A weary one. She hasn't slept for weeks.

“You’ll have to take it. From my heart.”

...There's the catch. If the Palace is to collapse. Rōnin has to do the same thing that Sae did. She has to bloody her hands with her sister's life. It may not be the real Queen. Or the real Makoto. But it'd stain her hands all the same. A miniscule part of her is genuinely considering the sacrifice. A Cognition's death, for the success of the team? Something that exists as just a reflection of a person’s perception? As a prosecutor…it'd be a deal she'd take any day of the week. 

As a Thief? Knowing that’s her sister? 

Unacceptable.

And Rōnin won't do it.

“No.”

It is the guilty who she will rip limb from limb. And the Cognition has only given her the truth. Harsh. But just. Exactly like what her mom used to give her, or her sensei in the Aikido classes the two attended. Keep your form tight, your focus sharp, and nothing will get past your guard. A valuable lesson for the martial art…but also for her life.

The Cognition's tired look is almost pleading. So exhausted. She extends her hand to what Janus called the Defendant, the one with a fading light that Rōnin can't mistake for anything else than Treasure. Incomplete Treasure. Missing one last piece.

“Please. There's only one way you can get your Treasure out of this hell. And it's from the Cognitive Jury's hearts. I've handled the rest. They offered their hearts to me, as I delivered them the rest they wanted. Just…make it quick. Please, Sae. Free me from my watch. From this tortured existence. Live your life, now that it’s yours again.”

Yet. The wording is important from this Cognitive Queen. Rōnin’s Shadow Arm softly rests on her shoulder. The Cognition seems to sag with its position, as if accepting her demise. She thinks that Rōnin’s given in. Is going to give the soldier that patrolled the Court and kept the reconstruction efforts on schedule, carried out the orders of Janus, the peace she's earned for the years of dutiful service to a sadistic master.

And in a sense, she's right.

“Cognition of Queen. Otherwise known as Makoto Niijima.”

But rest does not entail death.

“As the acting Judge of this vile Court by trial of combat.”

It involves the relinquishment of duties.

“I dismiss you from your position as Juror.”

And what duties does the Cognition have left, if the Court is to perish?

“This institution of a false set of laws is hereby dissolved.”

…The Cognition suddenly feels lightheaded. Woozy. And the light seems to truly fade away from her hand, leaving a Buchimaru doll that Rōnin knows. It's the one that Makoto was holding when…when Naito died. Sae bought it for her the day before. It's dusty, and tear tracks cut through the lines of age and being tucked into a forgotten corner. 

Yet, for a Treasure…it doesn’t gleam with any sort of desirous beauty. It’s just a doll now. Freed from the burden of being the origin of Self-Loathing…because the Self-Loathing has been ripped out from it. Absolved. And the Cognition of her little sister is fading into the background, body becoming dust on the wind. Rest without execution. Peace.

Don’t forget me. Rōnin hears the Cognition's last wish in her head, Makoto’s voice soft and truly believing in the woman she is now. And Rōnin's response is so full of gratitude for the fresh start the once thought damned lawyer has gotten, tore from the grasp of her supposed executioner.

“I won’t.”

As the Monabus picks her up while the ground of the entire Palace starts to collapse, Rōnin spots a statue just in front of where the Courthouse once stood.

Or rather, she spots a snapshot of what she really views Justice as now.

Her and Queen, both in the middle of what she now understands as Showtime, back to back with their guns pointed at some unspoken threat.

With the distinct sensation of transferring from one reality to another, the Thieves know they're back in the real world, the one they know as home as much as they know the Palaces as their duty. Queen checks her Metanav app, and the phone gives the death knell on that vile Court.

“The destination has been deleted.”

Sighs of relief are given throughout the entirety of the group, with Skull and Joker high-fiving the moment they get the chance. Including their latest member. Who, suddenly, feels faint without the outfit gifted to her as her armour against the lies of the world. She doesn’t so much collapse, as fall onto the couch she was once balled up in. Makoto too, takes a seat on said couch.

But the difference is night and day between last night and this evening. Especially when there’s so much simple but unabashed joy in Sae’s small smile. Even the apartment seems brighter despite the detective’s boards, as if cleansed of some dark taint. And in a sense, it has!

And so has Sae, physically exhausted as she is. The kind of enjoyable exertion feeling that comes from a job well done or a good workout, rather than the awful bone-tired exhaustion than she was suffering from earlier. Yet blaming Janus for everything isn't truly what speaks to her heart. The verdict is right, but the sentence was a clear mistake.

Somewhat tiredly, but still so much lighter than before, Sae gives the information she promised. 

“Futaba? You'll find the documents I was talking about next to the picture of you. Tied to your digital identities. Both Medjed and Alibaba.”

Futaba’s a little more skittish than she is as Oracle, but there's clearly some bleed between the two given how relentlessly she starts searching. And Sae feels that same blurring of lines, just a little while she gets to a more comfortable sitting position. Definitely not a total takeover. The unhinged violence that Rōnin is eager to dish out is never going to be allowed in this world, especially for a woman of Sae’s station, but the change in cognition? The anger, once feeling like acid, now feeling like the comforting heat of a fireplace? Promising Sae not only that she'd get what she wanted, but what she needed? 

It's like the fog has been destroyed, and Sae can see at long last.

Akira's looking at her though, expectantly. As if she's supposed to say something. Which…she might be? 

“...Yes, Akira?”

There's a hint of Joker in the way he looks about the place. And the boards, the apartment altogether. The opportunistic posturing of someone looking for the most valuable piece of loot to take. And given the glint of recognition in his eye, he's just found it.

Reaching to the floor, he picks up the once thought broken recorder. But…it's not broken. Frozen, yes. But in the same way any other recording would be, if dropped to the ground with a thud and forgotten in distress. He presents it to Sae, and his petition is simple.

“You wanna do us the honours of wrapping things up, Rōnin?”

But far be it from her to disappoint the group she's now a part of. Resetting the tape to its starting point, the Sae that emerged from the Shadow's grasp snarling and roaring gives her past self the dignity of being remembered…but not humiliated. After all, a rebirth requires a record, no? And she can think of no better way of putting the full-stop on this whole affair…

Then recording it in her own words.

“This is Sae Niijima. Codename, Rōnin. The latest member of the Phantom Thieves, recording the events of the Court of Self-Loathing heist. After a spirited trial wherein my sins were laid out for all to see, I was presented with the choice between the death sentence for what I’ve done, or the hard path.”

Thinking back to the choice, it wasn’t any practical calculations or pragmatism that brought her to the chosen path. It just felt right. The time had come for her to for once act on what her heart really desired.

“I chose the hard path. I chose the one wherein I have to make up for the agony I dealt out eagerly. Together with the rest of the Thieves, we defeated my Shadow. Named after the two-faced god of beginnings and endings, Janus initially proved troublesome until I reacquired Yoritomo from her grasp, piercing her shields with a team attack that Skull refers to as “The Heaven Piercer.” Then? The rest of the fight was practically a formality. Queen and I dealt her a grievous blow after I broke her guard, acting in what can be only described as perfect symmetry.”

The praise from Sae goes straight to Makoto's heart, and in the rest of the team's opinion? It's been long overdue. Seeing the stricter of the group's big sisters be lifted so much by a few words? Priceless. Especially in Sae's eyes. God. How long had it been?

“After that? After I let Makoto know just how proud I was of her? I took the last thing that was mine from my Shadow. She is no longer my tormentor. Self-Loathing was cut down to size. I made oaths to the rest of the Thieves for my atonement, but also to myself. And…I was welcomed into their organization. I will still be providing legal counsel for them and I will not be hearing ANY DISAGREEMENT ON THIS MATTER, JOKER.”

“Even while sitting down and with a smile on her face, that glare is lethal.” Akira muses after Sae’s fixed him in place.

“But I am now a Thief, after agreeing to such an offer. I really am taking my life into my own hands. After my acceptance into their ranks, I was presented with a chance to…show my talents.”

So many arrows. The wrath of the oppressed masses brought to the agents of a corrupt law. Even thinking of the carnage she delivered to those Shadows brings a smile to Sae’s face, and Yoritomo’s fond chuckle is assuredly not wholesome given how it is derived from slaughter. But at the same time? She doesn't care for the fate of willing servants of her desire for demise. Her team, and especially Queen, wanted to see what she could do? 

She'd give them a show they could never forget.

“We promptly made our exit after gathering the spoils of war. I believe the sum per person of our haul is one point five million yen accounting for Joker’s share?”

To Sae’s disbelief, and horror, Futaba hands her a note. It's not one point five million. Prometheus got the numbers wrong.

It's two million.

And she can have it today.

Continuing the recording with a massive portion of shock at just how…much her spending money just expanded in a single night. Apparently redemption pays absurdly well? Or, well. Phantom Thievery does. Redemption's wages are yet to be determined.

“...I've just been corrected. It's two million. And I can have it today. No processing time. Just in my hands-”

And even in nice stacks of one hundred thousand yen, put on her table using five thousand yen bills. Such a blatant display of what this path could give her. The bonding time with Queen and Makoto yes, but also, lending her newfound and terrifying strength to a team that wholeheartedly supports her. Yet her thoughts don't go to avarice, but to what she could do with the money if she's careful. Therapy for the guilt and resentment she felt towards her little sister, nights out so she can actually relax for once, actually saving up for retirement.

Maybe getting out of the monstrous business of prosecution, before it takes everything she is from her. 

“I'd say about half of this is a good start for a retirement fund.” 

Yoritomo’s agreement is somewhat of a surprise given his previous warning of greed.

“What changed your mind about our gains?”

But his reasoning is solid.

“Your first thought upon seeing your share was saving your soul with your newly found freedom, Sister-in-arms. Greed has no place in such a pursuit.”

“That's some strangely simplistic logic from you. I'd have expected some warrior poet musings about avarice.”

“Well I was more focused on the fact that you've a recording to finish.”

“Oh shit-”

“Enough about the money. Not what I’m doing this for. I then had an encounter with a cognitive version of Queen holding my Treasure, which, thankfully, I was able to resolve without…hurting her.”

It’s something small, she knows. But is it so bad that she looks at the third option discovered as a start of a life wherein she worked to work alongside Makoto, rather than make her suffer?

“We made our exit. Queen confirmed the destruction of my Palace with the group's extraction.”

The Buchimaru doll, looking exactly like the one in the Palace, is put atop the bundles of money. Both Makoto's cut, and Sae's. Four million yen altogether. The wages of purging sin. 

“What else is there to say, other than…”

Sae picks up the Buchimaru doll. Looking at the doll that was once the origin for something that had left her shaking and wretched on this very couch…she can't help but be grateful. Not to Janus. And definitely not to Self-Loathing. But to Queen, to the Thieves, for the chance to live again. In a gesture of what can only be immense gratitude, Sae hands both Buchimaru-kun, and her ongoing recording to Makoto.

“Case closed, Queen?”

And while Makoto will happily accept Buchimaru…she's got something more precious than first edition merchandise of her favourite show. She's got her sis back. No. Not just back.

She's got something new and beautiful where the ruins of broken vows once stood. Where Leviathan and Janus once lived, and raked their claws into Sae…now Yoritomo watches her back, eagerly offers the safety of a friend to watch out for her. So she could become Rōnin, become a person that Sae can stand to see in the mirror again. Same as how Johanna gave Makoto the strength to cast aside the easy road, to fight for what she really believed in, with her own two hands as Queen.

So of course, Makoto puts her hand atop Sae's, and softly confirms what Sae says in a voice that touches Sae's soul like the blessing of a saint.

“Case closed, Rōnin.”

The recorder clicks. Sae's stopped it. No further comment required for a heist that ended in just a few days. And…oh. Exhaustion hits her with all the swiftness of a rushed court order, and the elder of the two sisters sinks just a little into the comforting embrace of the couch. Exhaustion isn't exactly gnawing at her insides as it did a day before, but instead is much more of a whisper. One that is easier to resist…but that's only because the malice behind it is gone.

“Did each of you get exhausted after Awakening?” Sae asks the group, though tiredness does make its move as she yawns afterwards. 

The nods one by one are all she needs as confirmation. Ann, finally paying attention to the boards after Futaba’s stripped both her mother's research and the pictures of Alibaba from Sae’s detective boards, has one more question for the exhausted detective and lawyer.

“What do you want doing with all this evidence? There’s a lot of hard work here with your connections to our identities, but if you're one of us, it'd be good for you of all people to investigate us, right?”

“She's smarter than people think,” Sae ponders, seeing what she thinks the youngest of the Takamaki name has in mind. But it's…decidedly a cold move. Out of the wheelhouse of what she expected. Dangerous. Incredibly so. “You want me to be a double agent for you all then?”

And still, she's off the mark, given Ann's worried and hurried rebuttal. “No! Nonononono! We were just thinking…if you were leading it, you could make sure that Shido’s goons don't get any stupid ideas-”

Sae's light chuckle is a strangely unknown sound to Ann. Not Leviathan’s, which is tainted with hate and despair in equal measure, only heard after dealing out suffering. Nor Rōnin's, which is new but promises one hell of a show. This sound is a bit more tentative. Still finding a space, where it didn't have one to exist a few days ago. So too, is her newfound confidence that she can run circles around the conspiracy with its head taken off.

“I'm not saying you won't have any legal problems anymore. The conspiracy is everywhere. But…I get the feeling that the SIU is about to have its hands full with another case that'll be a much bigger fish. Shido will pay, and I'll use his testimony to rip out his form of institutional rot from the roots. It'll go all the way to the top. A monument to avarice, burned from the rooftop down. Not just his branch of government…but the SIU too.”

The entire team has predatory grins at the thought. Societal reform is one thing. But no-one could ignore the message that anyone can stand for what's right…if Sae stood against the very place she once gave everything to. Their latest member is still an amateur at Thievery…but she has grit and determination in spades.  

Akira in particular, has the biggest grin of them all. “I like the idea of a top-down bonfire. This is a monumental task to take on alone though.”

Sae's response is almost autonomous, pre-recorded hyper independence from a life that demanded she be far stronger than she had to be. “Who else ca-”

But Makoto won't let her do this alone. “ We can help!”

It’s not like Sae to plead. But she can’t have the team who saved her walk the same path she did. “How? I won't have you all involved in the prosecution. It's far darker work than Thievery, corrupt up to the top. I was desperate when I got into it. I won’t have you all bloodied like I am.”

And God help him, Yoritomo’s somehow on both sides. “Who said their help involved getting into the job you hate for what it took from you?”

Indeed, Makoto's offer isn't as a witness, or as a junior prosecutor. But as a Thief. And it's shockingly well thought out.

“When we took down Shido's Palace we kept names, lists, of every Shadow we found in there. Not just Cognitions, but their own Shadows in his Palace. With that disgusting ship gone, they’ve returned to the Palace of the masses. Mementos. We’re not offering to testify. We’re offering to clear you a path, get you the kindling you need to burn the SIU down. If you give us names of the corrupt and the people in that place that pledged their loyalty to that tyrant in the making? We can take them down together!”

It's not a cure-all. Relying on the supernatural is a fool's errand, especially if Sae doesn't fully understand it yet. But it's a damn sight better than the prospect of rising high enough to burn the place down alone.

“You're not alone anymore, Sister-in-arms. You have them. You have her. You have me. And we'll watch your back.”

“What about-”

Somehow, both her little sis and her Brother-in-Arms are both tearing down the walls Sae erected. Together, without a single bit of communication. Two on one.

“I won't hear your excuses for this. Did Makoto not promise you that she'd let you into her life again? You have to let her into yours as well.”

“No! I said I'd help! And you said you'd do better by me!”

“If you're going to redeem yourself, and I mean to the people that matter…that means accepting help from sources you trust, and sharing both the good and the bad with our little sister.”

“I'm not letting you go back on the vow you made to yourself, and the one you made to me!”

“You deserve this chance. You swore to us both. Remember?”

What can Sae do, in the face of such an assault on the idea that on, but accept? Fondness once again splashes across her tired face at Makoto's bravery. Brave, brave Makoto.

“I haven't forgotten. Thank you.”

“I am thou. Thou art I. Together, we will make your life one worth living again.”

“They're dangerous people. If they show up in this…Mementos? I want to come with. If I'm to be one of you, I'd need to know everything about your trade. And, well. I want to see everything what Akira left out of his retelling, while I didn't have control of my own heart.”

A Palace Ruler is often happy in their position. But…whenever Makoto saw Sae, or could at least stand what she'd become as either Prosecutor Sae or Leviathan, she didn't see joy. Just…anger, hiding total loss. There was someone who Makoto truly loved, was willing to sacrifice everything for despite the torment. And then she had to fight her Shadow. To save her.

And now look at Sae! The once thought monstrous lawyer, the supposed cold arm of the law, utterly exhausted…but almost at the end of the happiest day of her life. Softly smiling and chuckling at the prospect of really taking her life into her own hands. Not at it being absurd, but at her getting the chance.

How could Makoto not want to see her grow, and take a similar path to what she did? If Queen's path is one of strife…

“Sis there's no debate on that. You're coming with us. I want to see what you can do, and vice versa.”

Then is Rōnin's not a path of penance? 

“It's settled then. The next time you go to this, Mementos? I want in. And you, Mako Mako, are going to teach me what being a Thief is. Modus Operandi, tools of the trade, what these elements you mentioned previously mean, I have so many questions…”

But now is not the time for answers. Those can wait. Right now, Sae has a bigger priority in mind.

“I shouldn’t be keeping you all here. It's late and…I want to spend some time with Makoto before I end up passing out. Will it be like this every day I bring out Yoritomo?”

Akira's small shake of the head and frown is more than enough to get his meaning. Regardless, he clarifies as the rest of the team makes their way to the door that once Makoto bashed in. “First night's always the hardest. It's like a hill, and Awakening is the top. It'll be less tiring afterwards. Like a good session at the gym.”

And that's something Sae's intimately familiar with. “I'll take your word for it…Joker.”

The codename is important. Each time the damned young boy has heard it from another, it's a mark of trust. That they truly believe in him, his cause. And though Sae did save him, did in her words, place her bet on his story being true. It's another thing that she's willing to forego chance, and trust in what her heart knows is right. To shed the cloak of her despair…and embrace her rage as the blessing it can be. 

The soft nod from Akira to the two Niijimas is a fitting full stop to the meeting of the organization she's just joined. Makoto gives Akira a look that has gratitude painted on it like war paint as he leaves with the rest of the Thieves, waves of gratefulness and accomplishment left like homecoming presents. Exiting their apartment, the four walls that held so much pain and anguish, Sae's anger and Makoto’s despair. But now, this moment? The return after sworn vows, Sae deciding that her fate is her own? It's like it's the only thing that ever mattered in the apartment.

And if Makoto were to ask Sae?

She'd agree.

Still, Makoto looks at the boards. The work is good, but it's a bit too close to Court proceedings for her liking. The red string of fate and deduction like a noose…

Given how Sae's looking at them with some disdain, Makoto can reason she's feeling something similar. But is that Sae not liking that what she wants to call home has been invaded by work…or is that Rōnin, utterly frustrated that even now the foe she ate bit by bit is still somehow reaching at her life even beyond death?

Sae's request makes it clear that it's a bit of both.

“Makoto…could you help me up? I can't stand these boards like this any more, I'm going to put them away for now. Maybe dispose of them late-”

Her Mako Mako's interruption is quick and what some would consider rude, but no less compassionate. What a strange juxtaposition. 

“Sis. I'll handle it. You just make yourself comfortable, ok?”

“But-”

“If you want to help? Get out of that suit and get something more comfortable on. It's your best one, right?”

It isn't. When looking at it in the morning, preparing for the trial that would decide if her life was worth living, it was masked in grim resolve. All of the other suits she owned were good, but that one felt right for what the stakes were. Death or a small reprieve. The riskiest game she's played, with only her life as the ante.

But now, that Sae's seen that absolution was something that she could earn, something that she is deserving of? That she's so much more whole? Why play the game that she was chained to, play the odds…when she could break the house? Victory is one thing. Freedom is something entirely new.

The fabled reckoning had come to Court. And Sae, while initially coming in chained by her sins…had broken what bound her. Then she led the charge to rip her captor's heart out. Took a new name, a new face, for a new version of herself. 

So Sae acquiesces to Makoto's question with a thoughtful voice as she goes to get dressed into something more comfortable. Nothing too fancy, conversation continued through a wall that may as well not be there. 

“It's my worst one, honestly. More like a funeral suit than anything else. I might burn it, or do something else with it. Donate it to a charity shop maybe?”

“Hmm. Charity is the better choice out of the two. If you want my input.”

Sae wasn't asking…but Makoto's perspective is appreciated nonetheless.

Under her breath, Sae's comment towards what she considers a remnant of her past self goes unheard by everyone else but her, and Makoto. 

“Somebody should get some use of what I don't need anymore.”

When Sae emerges from her room in a black set of pajamas and a blanket in hand, it's to a very organized table with almost all her evidence put in neat labelled piles. She didn't take that long getting dressed, right? If she handed these bits of evidence to an intern, they'd have only done half the amount of sorting Makoto's done. And that's if she got one of the more experienced interns. 

“Makoto…how?”

“Welcome back! I've organized what you have so far. They're not chronologically dated but my filing system is more pertaining to relevance-”

“I mean how! How did you. Do all that! I was gone for ten minutes!”

Makoto's smile is the tiniest bit sly, looking at Sae while her hands sort through the papers. As if…

As if someone else is operating Makoto's hands. It clicks. And Makoto can see that Sae's caught onto her secret, given the spark of recognition in her red eyes. On the secret that the rest of the Thieves have. On the one that Sae too, now has a part of. So when Makoto speaks, and then shifts to something with Queen's iron in it, familiarity and understanding still carries through.

“I had some help. Have, some help.”

The other self. Anat. At work, each of Makoto's hand working on finishing the task assigned. The work of two people in one body. Two souls in concert, accomplices…or rather, confidants. 

“You've put poor Anat to the work of a sorting system. How could you.”

Sae's raised eyebrow and playful tone is backed with something that's not just Sae. Someone who's absolutely willing to spill blood at a provocation, but also someone who doesn't really care for such a thing as coldness. Who's heart burns hot like a hearth. Who takes the idea of what she is supposed to be in the eyes of the public, and casts it down in favour of who she feels like she wants to be. Rōnin. 

And Makoto’s response is full of the same amusement.

“She offered! Vigorously!”

Paired with a request for Sae. Tutelage. Confidence, perhaps borderline Icarian. But today has been a day of brave leaps and miracles.

“Plus I. I wanted to ask if you'd…like to learn some more things about being a Thief tonight before you head to bed?”

Sae however, has an adaptation on Makoto’s idea. Hidden underneath her blanket. Not thesis and antithesis, but rather, two sounds resonating with one another. Superposition.

“I'd like that. But I have questions. About you. About Queen. So…”

Sae throws the blanket over the couch, revealing what's held in her hand. A set of DVD's.

“How about we trade over movie night? You and me.”

Not exactly a focused approach, but neither of them have the focus for such a thing. And movie night does sound nice. Makoto nods with quickly building anticipation for what Sae has in mind, speaking through a half-closed door as she too, gets dressed for the night while Sae wraps herself underneath the blanket.

“I'd love that, sis. Do I get the first pick?”

It's no big night out, but it may as well be with how much the two are looking forward to it. 

“Only seems fair. I might not be awake for the second, so…”

A few inches of wood once felt like solid bars of steel. Now, they feel like nothing at all. Practically a pane of glass. Nothing, for the warmth of their hearts that now flows throughout the apartment. Like a campfire’s embers, littered across the floor and walls. 

Six months ago, Sae put Makoto onto the path of strife, gave her that push to embrace that anger…by delivering a jagged knife to her heart. Out of anger and frustration. She had wept that day. But she did not know exactly how much she had lost.

One month ago, Sae had felt like a passenger in the car that was her life despite her position and prestige. Akira had been her chance to take the driving wheel back. But…she had failed.

Three days ago, Queen had thought Sae a monster like any of the people she fought. And she'd have been right, in a sense. A minotaur by any other name, in a labyrinth of her own making. Both a child of Minos, and Daedalus incarnate.

Two days ago, Sae had hit rock bottom. Spiralling, falling at terminal velocity to a rapidly approaching quick and bloody end. Someone had finally come to take from her…as she had taken from the world. The House always wins.

Two hours ago, Sae had finally decided to tear. It. All. Down.

Now, she sits at a couch with a bundle of movies spread like a fan on the table in an apartment filled with lingering warmth. Deciding which one she'd like as the third movie, probably the one that Sae’ll end up falling asleep during, while her and Makoto plan to talk through the late hours.

“Oh I know what one I'm picking.”

And with something more than a Shadow watching her back. A Persona, and what Sae feels like is family. Even though he…may not be the most well-adjusted at times.

“Oh? Does the famous founder of the first Shogunate have a recommendation?”

“That one. Sanjuro.”

And apparently, he has a taste for old films.

“...”

“What!? It's a good movie!”

“The samurai flick? Really?”

“Hey! It's a classic!”

“The entire movie's claim to fame is due to a technical mistake!”

“And the film is elevated for it! Besides, I am you, you like this sort of thing! None of the melodrama and inaccuracy that's in a law drama. Just steel and will. Not accurate, but what people like us have always wanted to do once in their life.”

Fair and square. Everything on the line, with only the strength of their sword arm and the skill in their bladework as cards in their hands. Not unriggable, admittedly…but there is a certain Justice in putting soul against soul. 

“I mean…if I am a rōnin. There are much worse examples than Sanjuro to study, right?”

Sae’s inner monologue, her conversation with her other self is clearly masking the idea that. Maybe. Just slightly. She might enjoy the pick that Yoritomo has chosen. God help her, this kind of bickering? She missed it. Misses it. Even with Yoritomo trying to convince her of something that she must know on some level.

“You'll enjoy it! Promise. If you don't, you can…punch me with your gauntlet or something?”

Childish though it may be…he's her Brother-in-Arms. What is a friend, a confidant for, if not to share in their joy and sorrow?

“Deal.”

And also occassionally threaten with terrible consequences for something entirely inconsequential?

“I suddenly regret this.”

Yoritomo's second thoughts after realizing he’s just offered his face as a punching bag to a terrifyingly strong Bearer, are interrupted by Makoto opening the door to her room, and getting under the blanket that Sae's thrown over the couch. Her eyes scan the selection…and find a winner.

“The Like a Dragon one?”

There's a certain willingness to dial back in Makoto’s voice, the tone of a negotiator, of someone dealing with what feels like a tenous situation. Trained. And practiced. Sae had contributed to that. But adversity is often a window for opportunity. Both to comfort her Mako Mako…and to get one over on Yoritomo.

“It's a good pick. The delivery of the speeches are solid, there's a few excellent fight scenes, good background noise…certainly much better than Yoritomo’s pick.”

Yoritomo gasps with mock offense.

“Hey!”

The rib at Sae's Persona by herself is something Makoto'd never expect from the infamous Prosecutor. Nor from the person of just a month ago. But she's not here anymore. Is she? Someone both oh so very old, and somehow freshly formed has eased off the chains that bound her heart. And Makoto should maybe be resentful. She will always be angry about what was done to her. 

But now, Makoto knows something that her past self never even thought was possible. That Queen thought was the wildest dream imaginable.

Sae is willing to make things right between them both.

So Makoto's more than happy to take the hand Sae's offering with a playful rib of her own.

“And what did the famous victor of The Tale of the Heike have for a movie recommendation?”

“...Sanjuro.”

Makoto can't believe it. Not out of shock, but rather, disbelief. And what looks like teasing in her pupils.

“My big sis. The infamous lawyer and stern-faced woman about the city…likes samurai movies??”

Immediately Sae is on the backfoot with what could be seen as a somewhat childish liking for a person of her stature, with a small blush on her cheeks and the tips of her ears for being caught out.

“It's Yoritomo’s recommendation!”

“He's you!! Admit it! You like the classics!”

But Makoto has seen what is undoubtedly an informal part of Sae. And she's gonna make that part of her big sis flourish. Neither of these are ladylike choices, but neither of the two fit into the proposed ideal of a lady. Cutting off the jagged and rough parts of themselves served nothing but to make them miserable. Fitting in is a fool’s game. So she’s going to push that topic, giddy with the excitement of finding this part of the puzzle that makes up Sae Niijima. An unashamed Sae Niijima. 

“We’re watching it. And then we’ll talk after!”

“And if I pass out?”

“Then we’ll talk in the morning! This is so much more important!”

What else can Sae do, other than be happy that Makoto is giving her the chance to be the lead for this activity?

“Only the one watch. Then, we talk.”

Deliberately, Sae ignores Yoritomo’s fistpump at getting Makoto on his side while she puts the movie into the DVD player.

An hour and a half has passed.

And Sae has gone from mildly interested…to utterly enraptured. Even as they ordered takeout and ate, Sae couldn't wait to get back to movie night.

Makoto can see it. The glint in her big sis's eyes that sparks when steel clashes, the way her pupils dilate to the spilling of blood and the fact that her lips trace the speeches of reluctant warriors who have nothing but their honour. Not just the violence, but the idea of a sacred code and the prospect of it meaning everything…it speaks to something inside of her. And Anat has commentary for Makoto regarding this current development, curious at what is happening to Sae.

“Your elder sister. Not how you remembered her. But…you do not regret this?”

How Makoto remembered Sae was with a rose-tinted visor. This version? The one that still has that violent fury inside, rumbling like the beating of war drums, but put towards a goal that the two agree upon? No longer in Queen's way as Leviathan, but at her side as her comrade?

“How I remember her is a form of distortion. Not true. What’s happening right now? The moment, this feeling? It’s much more important than reminiscence.”

Plus, she'd never imagine her standoffish big sister being so…into this? It’s like the layers of scar tissue from an unfair life have been peeled back, revealing something new and vibrant. For a moment, it’s like Sae is ten years younger, watching her first movie at a cinema. It's magical. And borderline cute, to see Sae so immersed. Something so human inside her heart.

“May it stay. This version of Sae…seems much more like the one you hoped was underneath all the scar tissue. Your friend.”

And when the screen displays the credits, that awe is still there. Still on her face. Makoto's almost sad that she has to break the trance Sae's in, watching the credits roll. But break it, she will, for the sake of lighthearted ribbing while underneath a warm and protective cloak the two share.

“I take it you liked the movie then?”

Sae's eyes do move from the television to Makoto. But the look in her eyes is one of personal revelation, of discovering something about herself she never suspected. Not the furious flame of rebellion, the one that put her against The Court, but one that is much more like the glimmer of a pleasing deduction.

“I need to buy more of these types of movies to watch with you. If you want. Maybe…we could make this a more common thing, you and me?”

It's everything Makoto hoped for. 

“I'd like that, sis. You had questions about me though?”

With the hour unknown but the repairing bond still holding strong, Sae prepares her inquiries.

“Yes. I did. What made Queen? You did say that she was born from Strife and the Metaverse, but…did something push you to that breaking point?”

And Makoto responds as best as she can, with the warmth of the night still at her back.

“It…was two things. First was 6/19. I wanted to be useful so badly. To mean something to someone, anyone. To be valued. And…what you said. It was the second to last straw. Everyone breathing down my neck and demanding things off me and-”

Sae's hand moves to Makoto's cheek in a grounding touch. A tie to the world, instead of in the madness of tormenting memory. And Sae gives what comfort she can to someone who's clearly moved on from the past.

“I had burdens of my own…but I never saw yours. And put mine on your back. God. How did I not see how alike we were until now? Makoto I'm-”

“Don't. I. I might be mad at what happened to me. But. You're already trying so hard to make up for what you've done. You're like me now. Just trying to make the world a bit better by doing what you can.”

Makoto's interruption, softly spoken as it is, still fills Sae with warmth and pride at how much she's grown…but also sorrow at the fact that she too, tried to suppress Makoto. Another dagger at her little sister's throat. “...Mako Mako…”

Makoto leans into Sae's hand as if it's a shield against the world. Comforting for them both. That Makoto is worthy, has always been worthy of Sae's love…and that Sae isn't so broken by the world that she can't give out said love. There's flaws between the two, and it'll take more than one night. 

But this is a good start.

“Do you want to hear the second straw, sis?”

Sae's response is maybe a bit too eager for something so heavy, hand still caressing Makoto's face. So touch starved. As much as Makoto was willing to leave Sae behind if needs be. It would have been like cutting off a part of her heart. Things working out like this? A dream. 

“Yes, of course! I think I know who's to blame…but not why. And…if it started you on the path that saved us. I want to know everything.”

Makoto takes a deep breath, and begins to explain everything.

“I initially didn't trust the Thieves. I…hate to say it, but I blackmailed Akira and the rest into targeting Kaneshiro. He had been abusing the Shujin student body…and the principal put that on my plate too. I got in over my head, seeing the Metaverse and what he truly was. He threatened you. And me. Like we were cuts of meat, or any other form of product. ”

Sae can feel the tension in Makoto's jaw when bringing up the gang leader, and clearly Sae mirrors that gesture. The anger. The thing that broke her chains. The birth of Queen, and the death of the Makoto that just stood and took the beatings.

“I couldn't…I couldn't let it happen. Another adult demanding everything from me. Everyone, including you, threatening that the unfeeling Student Council President does as they say, or else. No room for who I was. So I…snapped. Stopped playing nice, and started wielding what was deep inside me, ripped off my iron mask and brought forth my Persona, my inner strength. Queen was born from that strife. That anger. And they accepted me. Like a big sister. It was like I was ripping the weight of every last lie I was told, or told myself, off my face.”

Sae's finding many relations to Makoto's story, with the newfound perspective.

“I can't apologize enough, but I think I finally get what you mean, Makoto.”

And Makoto truly believes her.

“Tell me then. What made Rōnin? And how did you feel?”

Sae too, prepares to explain in a contemplative voice.

“When I came into Court, something was broken deep inside me. I thought I was broken beyond repair. That all I could do was hurt people, especially hurt you. Even with me getting Akira out from the SIU’s grasp, I…didn't know how to fix what I had done. Over and over. And how could anyone else know what to do? It was my fault. And mine alone. But a part of me, small and defiant, screamed at what my Shadow demanded I give up. That I had to pay with the last thing I had left after a whole life gambling at the table.”

And Makoto is more than eager to listen to what's going through Sae's head as a relation to what Makoto suffered.

“The will to live?”

“The will to make my life mine again. So…I also snapped. I had enough of being threatened, but also of being a monster. To you. To everyone. I broke the bond of guilt that was choking the life from me, the same one my Shadow used to bring me to heel. And then something spoke in a voice that was familiar…but I couldn’t place it while I had that damned oni mask welded to my face. I had to tear it off. It itched like fire, like a secret, and I hungered for freedom. Yoritomo, I know the voice as now. My other self. I vowed to make what I did right. Not just to you all…but to me as well.”

There's a certain reverence in her voice when Makoto speaks next, as if speaking of something otherworldly, something divine. 

“How did it feel? To rip off your mask after the speech wherein you owned your faults? To truly take control of your life?”

And Sae can truly understand what she means. She's not nearly as reverent in her response, but there's a deep respect for what Makoto is saying in its place. Disbelief being cast aside thanks to an experience first hand. 

“It felt like I was finally being true to who I was, deep down…and being forgiven for all I had done. I know I have a lot to do still to earn that forgiveness, but it felt like I could finally live. I could fight for you. I could choose who I wanted to be. Like what felt like an ocean of guilt became just a spring. After three years of neglecting you.”

Makoto's look at what her big sister is becoming conveys so many feelings. Admiration and sorrow, anger and joy, true happiness, and the tailend of despair. Sae was her jailer once. And now? Her friend, her confidant, owning just how deeply she failed Makoto. Still, Makoto has jagged parts of herself that need tending. 

“...Do you want to hear about what happened in your Palace? I…I saw what the past version of you thought I was.”

And what is Sae to do, but to bridge that gap as Makoto is in turn?

“Yes, but after your movie perhaps? We did make an agreement after all.”

The soft nod from Makoto, somewhat stifled given how half her head has sunk into Sae's hand, is followed by her getting up to put her yakuza movie on. The two do not get to talk about the Casino. 

They do talk. About a Persona's relationship with their Bearer, (Anat calls Makoto both Priestess and Sister while Yoritomo calls Sae Sister-in-Arms, and Makoto seems somewhat amused about suddenly having a bigger brother.) about Queen's dynamic with the team, (The way that Queen describes herself as a big sister to the majority of the team makes Sae's heart quiver.) and about Queen's relationship with Noir. Subsequently, they talk about Makoto's relationship with Haru while the plot takes a turn into a toy car racing segment. Sae is hesitant about it. But for unexpected reasons. Or well, unexpected reasons a month ago.

“...She won't hurt you like I did, right?” Sae asks, knowing it's irrational and Makoto can make her own choices but something in her worries when once it had grown numb. Or rather something resurrected after being put to the sword.

And Makoto's response isn't something trained or anticipated. She ran through several angry talks with who Sae was, planning for eventualities while preparing to cut Sae out of her life, but this is something you can't plan for. Somehow regression and healing, turning back the clock while keeping the lessons learned. “We talk. Don't worry. I trust her. And she trusts me. That's all you can do, right?” 

Pre-prepared or not, it does put Sae at ease. Even if her words are a little stilted. Not with conflict, but rather, with her not expecting to say these things. “Good. It. Life is not meant to be lived alone.”

Makoto doesn't respond. Thinking she's misstepped, Sae turns her head from the television with a query on her mind, only to find Makoto's fallen asleep. Eyes closed even as fist meets fist in the movie of her choice. Sae could wake her. But…they are both tired by the looks of things.

So Sae picks up her Mako Mako, and takes her into her room. Next to all the Buchimaru plushies, Sae tucks her little sister in for the night. Something is missing though. Makoto is comfy, but there's a space between her arms and chest that looks empty. Sae has something that can fit in that spot. Something that she just got today. Briefly leaving the room, Sae gives Makoto what she must have been subconsciously yearning for. 

The Buchimaru doll from the Palace. The same one Sae sees in a corner on her little sister's bed, in duplicate. Not the first bit of Buchimaru merchandise Makoto owned, but the last Sae bought her.

“I think this is where it fits best.” Sae thinks to no-one but herself.

“A new home for an old doll.” Yoritomo agrees.

“Thank you…” Makoto murmurs in her sleep, arms wrapping protectively around the Treasure with as much care as she can muster. And it is Treasure, if not in the Palace sense, then in the sense of it being precious. The marking point of a new chapter in Sae's life.

“You're welcome…Mako Mako.” Sae softly remarks as she shuts the door to Makoto's room behind her. She is tired too. But looking at her bed, while it's assuredly more comfortable, it doesn't appeal. Cold and spartan, a thing of necessity.

The couch however. That does. Warmed by a time spent in reverie. So, Sae lies down on it while wrapped in her blanket, the same one that both her and Makoto traded playful ribs and shared secrets in, and begins to feel her consciousness finally fade as she turns off the television.

“Welcome to the first night of the rest of your life, Sister-in-Arms.”

Sae's snort at her Persona's cheesy line is almost instinctual, done by habit rather than by conscious thought. Still, her jab at Yoritomo is with far less bite than she'd usually bring up. “What happened to the warrior poet? That's a two-bit line!”

But Yoritomo’s more than capable of seeing through her facade, especially cause he can see what is underneath the mask. “Hey it fit! And don't think I don't see you smiling underneath that forced frown of yours!”

“Damn you and your…cheesy comforting lines.”

Damn it all. Especially damn him, that his common phrase actually struck a chord in Sae. 

“But. Thank you. Brother-in-Arms.”

And damn him being so smug with his response while Sae gets to sleep! “What are friends for?”

Sae does not dream. Neither does Makoto. But oblivion, once thought a fleeting escape from torment but three days ago, feels now like the waves of water on a beach. The rocking of a cradle, holding the soul until the body is ready to bear it once again.

Down, down, down, by the river…

Sae wakes up to the sound of idle humming and the smell of breakfast being cooked. Her back aches a bit without the firmness of a mattress and her hair is assuredly a mess, yet… She can't remember the last time she slept so peacefully. Taking off the blanket, Sae struggles to recall the events of the last day besides what must surely have been an absurd dream. Faint, but fond. And she feels…strangely light. 

She has work in an hour and a half. Makoto has school at the same time. 

“Morning!” Makoto beams from her station at the counter, minding pots and pans. Something's clearly got her excited, Sae thinks between Makoto's lighthearted minding. “Did you sleep well?”

Sae's a little confused with how Makoto's in such a good mood. Eagerly cooking for them both like…like things are alright between the two. Like she didn't break Makoto's spirit, didn't shatter what held them together once. But where guilt once felt like a drowning and colossal ocean, it now seems like a pond she can traverse. So strange. 

Blinking away the remnants of tiredness, Sae gets up off the couch with a stretch before sitting at the breakfast. Makoto slides her a plate of breakfast with a mildly content look on her face, but Sae doesn't mirror it. Instead, it only serves to further Sae's confusion about what happened last night, and why she suddenly feels so much more… at home, for lack of a better term.

Makoto sits down at the table with her own plate, humming a soft tune that Sae finds compelling…but she's never heard it in her life. Finally taking a chance, Sae asks a question while staring a hole through her plate.

“Did I come home drunk last night Makoto?”

While initially Makoto's response seems full of steel-

“I don't think you did,”

It is the steel that cuts through illusions.

“Rōnin.”

The last night comes back to Sae in a flood of memory. Her fork drops from her hand as it all comes back, clattering on the table drowned in the influx of information. Half-clouded events becoming crystal clear, supposed dreams becoming reality.

A summons to a corrupt Court, wreathed in sin, and ruled by her own Shadow. Self-Loathing, manifest. A trial that flayed the layers of her shields, exposing what she thought to be a decomposing heart in her chest. A decision made after finally taking responsibility-

“And I won't let you take my life from me again!”

And then, absolution with the breaking of guilt’s grasp. 

Her other self, a Persona, calling her Sister-in-Arms like he had nothing but hope and pride for what she could become , and wanted to see her grow from the envious shape that the cruel world forged her into. Power coursing through her every nerve, the will to atone and to live for herself again powering her far beyond what she's normally capable of, what she should be capable of. Working in perfect symmetry with Queen: 

“We are the sisters Niijima!”

“And we have come for you.”

Her violent fury’s flame understood as divine instead of profane, at last working with her of its own accord rather than being barely chained into service, devouring her Shadow's very heart with bloodied teeth because it was stolen from her. 

SENTENCE RENDERED.

Vows taken to atone. A path of penance, one that promised her soul back, her life back. No Faustian bargain, but rather a contract signed so both her and her other self could grow. A heartfelt offer to join with the team that she was put in charge of hunting, a duty she could no longer stomach. Denials cut down with appeals to what she could be. A new name. 

Rōnin. 

“It’s a promise, Skull. To myself.”

A talk with Queen. The affirmation of Makoto's worries. The broken halves of their previous bond, cast into a new and strange shape that is beautiful regardless. The promise that Queen would accept Rōnin just as Makoto would accept Sae, as long as she tried to make things better between the two. Thousands of arrows and dozens of destroyed Shadows.

“Don't forget me.” The armoured and scarred Cognition of Queen had begged her heart, softly as it faded with the Palace.

“I won’t.” She had promised her. 

Case closed. The team left the two. Movie night. A…somewhat embarrassing realization that she liked samurai movies and Makoto's teasing. Tucking her little sister into bed for the night, bequeathing the Buchimaru doll that once brought Sae to the edge of the abyss to her arms. And then sleep.

“Sis?”

Makoto's slightly concerned voice pierces Sae's flashback, her involuntary sojourn into the truth of what happened last night. Sae blinks as she processes the massive inflow of information, the mind's locus refined to process the new set of stimuli. Both that of a new world…and that of a person in the passenger seat.

“Should I have spoken up sooner, or…”

Yoritomo’s somewhat questioning and oddly meandering tone is immediately met by a quiet, almost in shock murmur from Sae, staring into her plate like the world has stopped making sense. Or perhaps, has finally started making sense.

“I wasn’t dreaming…”

And that is enough for Makoto to be much less worried about the look on her face.

“No Sis. Last night was very much real.”

Sae's composure as a lawyer, once a thing of legend, is hardly appropriate when facing things that are utterly absurd. Insane. And it's not what she’s feeling. Not in front of Queen. Not in front of her Mako Mako. Her heart aches and quivers. Not for loss. But rather, with an unprecedented gain. But how do you even start acknowledging such absurdity?

“...I…”

Makoto's interruption is of some comfort, a much gentler hand than Sae feels she deserves for almost forgetting the oaths she took. “You don’t have to say anything you’re not ready for. Not here. Not yet.”

But Sae has never been one to take handouts. Even at her most corrupt, she still had her damned pride. “No. I do. But. Maybe after we eat? I'd hate to let what you've made go cold.”

A grateful nod from Makoto is all the signal the two need to start on Makoto’s meal. And Sae can immediately taste the difference now that the fog is cleared. Feel the rising sun's light on her skin, sensations once dulled now so vibrant. 

“Or maybe it's just that Makoto has much more experience at this cooking business than I do.” Sae rationalizes away some of the sudden, yet faintly familiar sensations she was robbed of over the years. Slowly left bleeding on the altar as ballast for her to rise to her station. Cold and unfeeling, imperious and untouchable. 

Yet, ballast is what you can cast aside for the sake of stability. And what Sae sacrificed on the altar of her ambition was what she needed to keep that said stability. Sae Niijima had died slowly with each visit to the altar of her hunger, and Prosecutor Niijima had profited from her loss. It is much easier to fall into depravity, when the heart has already given in.

“Never again, Sister-in-arms.”

Now Sae feels alive for once. There is no other explanation for this presence, the awareness and clarity of mind. That rebellious will, not teenage anger, but a person who's had enough of the cruel shape the world made them into. 

Never again. Sae vows to herself while staring at the reflection of her eyes in her butter knife's edge. A woman reborn. A sword with no master but herself. A monster that has finally sworn off the taste of blood. 

A penitent by any other name.

As soon as the two are finished eating, the clatter of cutlery being put where it belongs serves as a backdrop. For a difficult question for Sae to ask. One she definitely didn't want the answer to some time ago…but one that she needs to know now.

“Did…did you all have a backup plan if your bait-and-switch with Joker didn't work using my Palace?”

“That's a hell of a starting line for Sae to start her inquiry,” Makoto considers while trying to put her feelings into the proper words. A few days ago, she'd never tell Sae that horror. Tied with that grotesque image she saw, trapped in a vault and silently begging for freedom. Makoto wouldn't be sure if Sae'd care. 

But she's seen how horrified Sae was when that Cognitive copy of Queen exposed what Makoto had become. That flayed and devastated yet still standing warrior. That Sae does still care, has never stopped caring. Even when the distortion was at its worst, when the Casino was booming with business and Sae was about to lose everything to a roll of the dice. She still had a heart, and it was bleeding and rotted, but she had looked at it and decided that she'd make it whole again even if it took everything she had.

In the face of conviction like that? Makoto is absolutely willing to confide in Sae. With a somewhat shaky voice still, nerves a little frazzled with how much of a long shot it was. Her eyes don't look Sae in the eye, more focused on keeping her hands from shaking by cleaning up.

“No. You were our only hope. We put our bets on you, as you'd put it. Hoping that you'd see that what we were doing was just, and that Joker would-”

Sae stops Makoto's recounting of the past by putting her hand in hers and cutting her off with a squeeze of the palm. Softly, Sae rejects the language that Makoto uses that doesn't quite fit what the younger Niijima means, and uses what Makoto prefers.

“You didn't put any bets on me. You believed in me, put your faith in me. Twice. I was at my lowest, and you still thought I was worth a damn, that I could change for the better.”

Makoto can't stop her heart from thundering in her chest as Sae affirms what Makoto's been desperately fighting for. In Makoto's words.

“And I won't let that faith go to waste. Not anymore. ”

This is what Makoto's always wanted. Her family back, her big sis back without the grotesque twisting of her desires. Another flame for the furnace that burns in her chest. And strangest of all, a version of Sae that isn't like she turned back the clock…but rather, she turned it forward. Took all the pain and shame and despair and envy and self-loathing and embraced the sensations for what they are. The symptoms of being in a twisted shape she could no longer stand, chained in place by a world that abhorred her existence.

Makoto'll hurt for the rest of her life for what happened. But Sae's made her a promise to do better for her, by her, to take that faith and hope Makoto gave her and hold it tight to her chest like any other form of benediction. To take this second chance, only gained by flipping the gamblers table…and put it to a cause she really believes in. Makoto can see that conviction in Sae's eyes. That joie de vivre, long thought gone, now reborn. Small, but growing with the promises made, and being kept.

Makoto puts her hand atop Sae's, returning the squeeze and firm hold. The gesture of appreciation, small, but so very heartfelt in reciprocation. So too, is Makoto's voice when she responds to Sae's reaffirmation.

“Don't do anything you'll regret, ok? I just got you back. I'd hate to lose you to the conspiracy we're against.”

And Sae's reply is with the confidence of a trained lawyer, yet with the warmth of the big sister she wants to be. Twin devotions, balanced at last. 

“I'll be careful, don't worry. I have oaths to keep, and I'm planning on settling the one with Futaba by tonight.”

That piques Makoto's interest, that Sae's immediately going for the path she chose the first chance she's gotten. It's exactly as Makoto expected, and Queen hoped. Her inquiry takes on a conspiratorial tone, seeking to hear Sae's plan.

“Oh? What did you have in mind for handling your commitment to Oracle, Sae?”

But Sae's not got all the pieces of her plan together yet. Letting go of Makoto's hand, Sae walks to the bathroom room to clean herself, stopping at the doorframe with a barely turned head and a smile on her face that promises change, both beautiful and devastating.

“You’ll find out with the others, I don't have all the pieces together just yet. In the meantime, I'll need a list and casefiles on all the people your team of the Shujin Rogues stopped from terrorizing Shujin's student body.”

And that smile becomes bloodthirsty as Rōnin takes the main stage, and Queen watches with equal parts awe and pride.

“We're going to dominate that Caretaker’s Evening.”

Sae opens the door to the outside world, and is greeted by the sight of Tokyo before rush hour. Yet, so much more different than before. She can feel the sun on her skin, the breeze that blows through her hair and hear the bustle of the crowds. The sun shines atop the city, full of life. There's cruelty in it, Sae knows, and yet.

“It's…beautiful.” She thinks to herself. There's a distinct difference when she looks at the metropolis now, compared to a month, a week, even a day ago. A garish paint job, cleared. Once yellow with Envy, and black with Self-Loathing. Now the world is a thing she can paint with her own two hands.

Three days. That's all it took. And already, Sae understands just how far she can rise, with her heart being her own. 

“It is, isn't it?” Yoritomo says with a distinct contentedness as he looks through her eyes, seeing the world again after eight hundred years in the Sea of Souls.

Sae has no patience for his shenanigans, unfortunately for him. “You're not out of the doghouse yet.”

Contentedness turns into genuine shock that Sae's ignoring the Persona's hard work! He's new to this, cut him a bit of slack. 

“I didn't know I was supposed to inform you of everything when you woke up! I was busy making myself a space in your head, dumping all of the Shadow's waste was very difficult I'll have you know!”

“Pff, you're like the rest of the slackers at my day job. No gumption.”

“How could you compare me, your beloved Brother-In-Arms, to those imbeciles!?”

Yet even as she trades jabs and barbs with Yoritomo through his mock offense, Sae still has that distinct lightness of heart, that piercing clarity. Before she knows it, she's down the stairs and in front of her car. Her head's running through her game plan for what she wants to do in the next month, her oaths to both the team she's one of now and to herself.

“Ok, what's the freshly formed team of Rōnin and Yoritomo doing today?”

…Maybe one small indulgence of my other self’s insistence won't be too bad, Sae thinks to herself. Foolishly, as she gets into her car.

“First, we take all the copies of Wakaba Issiki’s research we can find from the SIU. Every last one. We hand them to Sojiro. Then…”

“Ah ba ba ba! No overthinking this!”

The hell is he interrupting me for! Sae ponders with a tiny bit of frustration that her other self is getting in the way of her standard plans.

“What do you mean no overthinking this!? I'm planning a fair and reasonable amount!”

“Yeah, for a legal case! These people you wronged aren't some incredibly awful and terrible force. They're not your enemies. Don't treat them like they're not willing to meet you halfway, like Makoto did.”

Sae starts up her car, adjusting her mirrors while she's in the middle of her talk with her Persona. Her thoughts are lower, considering alternatives. The idea of going against the grain…

“What would you advise then, oh infamous Shogun of Japan?”

“One person at a time. Take the momentum you get from being free of one mark of sin, and take it to the next.”

The mirrors are adjusted just how she likes them. Turning the key in the ignition, Sae is coming around to the idea that the problem should be tackled piecemeal.

“...Huh. Divide and conquer.”

“Exactly!”

“Surprisingly tactically sound. Alright, I'll give it a shot. First Futaba and Sojiro. Then, we'll see what we can do?”

“Two birds with one stone is a fine starting move.”

But she's not coming around to Yoritomo being an endearing little shit.

“Are you always going to be this damned optimistic?”

“Yes.”

“...You're lucky I like you.”

The car starts up with that admittance. She could do without Yoritomo’s grin that she can feel in her head, but it's…oddly nice. To have someone guarding her back so she can give everything she has.

She turns on the radio as she reverses out of her parking space and starts her work commute. There’s some more news about Shido’s custody, things she’ll hear in the bullpen, but nothing of value to listen to. Nothing catchy, some kind of pop music that maybe Panther would like, a baseball broadcast. Nothing worth putting on. The radio goes off. But a tune comes to Sae’s mind. The same one that Makoto hummed when she was making breakfast. She’s only heard bits of it…but it seems so.

Familiar.