Chapter Text
Luggage trundling behind him, Ren squints at the map in his hand, the location of the dorm Shido gave him circled in red. He… thinks he’s following the right route.
It dawns on the teenager that heading to his new home in the middle of the night was a really fucking dumb idea, but Ren couldn’t stand the thought of staying in Aunt Hanako’s house any longer. Not with her haunting it like a ghost, even though she was supposedly alive and unwell. Alas, maybe he should have – he’s tired, his head hurts, and there’s at least a 25 percent chance that he’s lost.
That percentage counter suddenly jumps up when the streetlights cut, bathing Ren in darkness. Screwing his eyes shut, a big, heavy weight mounts in his chest as everything that’s happened over the last few days hits him all at once. Before he does anything as embarrassing as bursting into tears in the middle of the street (something his pride would never get over even if no one's around), he tentatively opens an eye, expecting his map to be completely unreadable in the dark. When Ren looks down, however, he blinks, feeling like a colossal idiot as he realises it’s still perfectly legible.
Cheeks flushing, he glances at the sky. Despite the odd, almost green tinge to the air, it’s a bright night, and a glance at the moon explains why. It hangs in the sky like an ominous off-white sun, the lack of light pollution making the cold orb look almost swollen as it dominates the starless sky and illuminates Iwatodai’s streets. It must be a full moon, or close enough to it – either way, it’s a lucky break Ren well deserves after the roller coaster of a week he’s had.
The city is uncannily silent as he walks towards the dorm, the only sound the wheels of his suitcase rolling over the slightly uneven pavers. Then again, maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. It’s a Monday night, and Iwatodai’s primarily a residential area which has little entertainment value beyond its proximity to the ocean.
Finally reaching his destination, Ren arches a brow. Like everything associated with the Okumura Foundation, it looks fancy. The building’s façade reminds him of the town hall, and while the odd lighting makes it hard to tell, he thinks it might be a bold, luscious red. The address checks out though, so swallowing his trepidation, Ren knocks before opening the door.
Stepping inside, he barely gets the chance to scan the thankfully far more normal looking foyer before footsteps rumble down the stairs.
“Who’s there?!” A brusque, female voice shouts, and as Ren lands eyes on the speaker, his heart catches in his throat.
Short brown hair. Piercing red eyes. And perhaps more importantly, a gun.
Ren definitely can’t forget about the gun.
Mouth hanging open, he slowly raises his hands into the air if only because that’s what Ren’s pretty sure he’s meant to do in situations like this – it’s not like he’s been held at gunpoint before.
(Out of all the terrible things that have happened to him lately, at least it gets some points for sheer creativity.)
Two things then happen at once. Firstly, the lights don’t flicker back on as much as they do instantly return in full force as if the power was never cut in the first place. Secondly, another pair of footsteps echo down from the staircase at a far sedater pace, a second brunette revealing herself.
“Oh!” The newcomer gasps, eyes wide. Her round face is framed by light brown curls, but while Ren distantly acknowledges she’s pretty, his eyes are almost instantly drawn back to gun-lady. “You must be the new transfer student! It’s a pleasure meeting you. I'm Haru.”
“E-excuse me?” The gun-lady's eyes flick from him to Haru, causing a subtle weight to lift from Ren’s shoulders. Then again, given the slightly slack-jawed expression that's crossing her face, Ren’s pretty sure she’d have lost the intimidation factor regardless. “But wait – he was…”
Haru's expression then turns utterly baffled as she notices the gun in her companion's hands, causing yet another wave of relief to rush through Ren. Thank god - he doesn't know what he'd do if he had two crazy gunslinging dormmates.“Um, Mako-chan... why do you have...?”
It seems it to finally dawn on the gun-lady that she’s the one who’s defying a lot of common social conventions, not them, as a deep blush begins to spread across her face. “I…” She hurriedly holsters her weapon as she drops into a deep bow. “Please, forgive me. I thought you were a home invader. There’s… been a few in the area lately.”
“… And so you thought you’d what, shoot them?” Ren gapes incredulously. He knows he should probably be politer to his new dormmates, but then again, she’s the one who thought bringing out a lethal weapon was a good idea. How the hell did she get her hands on a gun anyway?!
“It’s fake. Merely for intimidation purposes.” Gun-lady responds, her previous professionalism returning as the flustered blush fades so quickly Ren could have imagined it. With a tip of her head, the brunette finally introduces herself. “Niijima Makoto. Haru and I are third-years. If you have any questions about the area or schoolwork, we’d be happy to assist you, but I’m sure you’d prefer to get settled for the night first.”
“That would be nice.” Ren nods. Now that she mentions it, he is quite tired, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. “Oh – I’m Amamiya Ren. I hope to get to know you better in the future.”
That’s not really true, but he could vividly picture Aunt Hanako’s disappointment if he skipped the pleasantries, and given she’s comatose with a condition that apparently has only a 30 percent survival rate, Ren feels somewhat obliged to engage in all the society niceties she loves.
The second Niijima guides him to his room, however, Ren doesn’t bother unpacking or even taking off his shoes. Instead, he lands on the bed with a flump, and sleep grips him almost instantly.
.....
Black and white and grey circles spin, soft light dancing in Ren’s eyes as the world around him is consumed by the glow. He’s floating, body lighter than it’s ever been, but he’s also sitting. More importantly, though, Ren isn’t alone. Through the bright haze, Ren thinks he sees brown – lighter than Niijima’s hair, though a similar length.
When they speak though, their voice is nothing like Niijima’s aside from its sharpness. It’s rich, masculine, and Ren’s not sure which one he prefers. “… You? Why are you here?”
Ren opens his mouth, but doesn’t reply. Truthfully, he’s not sure of that either.
A clock gongs, and Ren hears the tick tick tick of the seconds counting down.
“Never mind, I suppose.” The boy – Ren knows his gut he’s a boy – shakes his head. “Tell me – what do you think of death?”
Ren blinks, suddenly feeling far more himself. “I think it’s a hell of a thing to ask someone you literally just met about. Still, the gun-thing is beating it in terms of originality so far.”
“I… see.” The boy responds with the voice of someone who has no idea what Ren's rambling about. He then gestures to the space between them, the black and white becoming squares, not circles, as a chessboard forms. “While you’re here, would you like to play a game? You don't look like much of a challenge, but it's not like I have anything else to occupy my time with right now.”
Ren opens his mouth, but doesn’t reply, as the black and squares fill every inch of his vision before the world falls away, leaving Ren plunging, plunging, plunging. There’s no fear though, as he knows this isn’t real, and he accepts it with ease as he lands on his feet without a jolt of pain.
He frowns though as he sees he’s in a familiar blue corridor.
“Hello again, Survivor.” The little girl beams, and a grimace contorts Ren’s face.
“Y’know, I prefer it when my dreams actually stay in my dreams.”
The smile falls off the girl’s face, though she doesn’t stop skipping as they both move towards a destination unknown. “My apologies, Survivor. You weren’t meant to see the Moon quite this early.”
Ren’s scowl softens into a frown, as an orb, big and swollen in the green sky flashes through his mind. “What does it mean? The moon.”
“It means many things.” The girl explains. “In this case, it’s dreams, madness, illusion and trickery.”
“Charming.”
She shoots him an impassive gaze. “The Arcana is the means by which all is revealed. You’ll be doing yourself a disservice if you view it in nothing but black and white.”
Ren hears the whirring of a buggy’s wheels before it catches up to them. An old, wizened man with a cartoonishly long nose is in the driver’s seat, something deep and knowing in his manic eyes as he glances at the young girl.
“Now, now, Lavenza – it is not our job to answer a Fool’s questions, but to give them the tools they need to divine the answers themselves.”
Wilting, her shoulders slump. “My apologies, Master Igor.”
Attention shifting to Ren, the man’s smile deepens. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Survivor. I believe my attendant introduced you to this place in your last visit, but please, allow me to personally welcome you to the Velvet Room.”
Ren’s brow twitches. “It’s also still a corridor.”
“Indeed it is.” Igor laughs. “Anyway, as much as I’d love to talk more, it’s time for you to wake up.”
.....
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Ren trundles downstairs. Still, while he’d hardly call these Velvet-whatever dreams pleasant, he’s had far worse demons haunt him at night, so he might as well buckle up and get over it. Reaching the ground floor, both girls from last night are at the dining table, so deep in conversation neither of them notices his presence.
“Are you really sure, Mako-chan?” Haru frowns. “Neither Shido-san nor my grandfather mentioned anything about him having the potential.”
“Positive, Haru.” Niijima's jaw is set as she nods curtly. “He didn’t even look dazed.”
“But why wouldn’t they tell us if he's a SEES candidate?”
“I don’t know.” Niijima bites her lip. “Maybe they forgot…?”
While Ren’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought of interrupting a clearly private conversation, he would like to eat something before school starts, so stepping forward, he clears his throat. “Sorry, but I was wondering where I could get breakfast?”
“Oh, my apologies, Amamiya-kun!” Wincing, Haru rises to her feet, guiding him to the kitchen. “Feel free to help yourself to anything that isn’t labelled, and if you use something up, just write it down on the groceries list. Mako-chan’s prepared some eggs and rice if you’d like some, but otherwise there’s plenty of options! There’s fish, miso, or toast and cereal if you prefer a western-style breakfast.”
“Egg and rice would be fine, thank you.”
Joining the girls at the table, Ren very much notices they don’t resume their discussion, though he tried not to take it personally.
“Thank you for the food, Niijima-senpai.” He dips his head.
“That’s okay – I anticipated you might want to sleep in a bit this morning, given your late arrival.” Her response is equally measured, all traces of the gun-wielding woman yesterday replaced with generic politeness. “I’d like to apologise for the poor impression I made last night as well. Iwatodai and Tatsumi Port Island are normally perfectly pleasant places as long you avoid certain areas at night.”
The hairs on the back of Ren’s neck prickle as it dawns on Ren that Aunt Hanako probably would have loved Niijima. Calm, collected, possessing enough foresight to realise Ren would need food, and having the ability to apologise confidently for her misdemeanours while also not apologising too much.
Eggs sitting heavy in his stomach, he pushes down the tight feeling in his chest and instead turns towards the far less emotionally fraught Haru. “So, where’s everyone else?”
The girls exchange a glance.
“… It’s just us for now.” Niijima explains. “The Iwatodai dorm is a transitionary one. I’m sure you’ll be moved into the Tatsumi Port Island boys dormitory soon enough.”
Ren’s brows furrow. “Really? Shido-san didn’t mention that.”
The girls exchange another glance, and Ren doesn’t need to be a master at social deduction to detect that the vibes are officially off. Still, is it any of his business, really? He just wants to finish school, maybe join a club or two, and pick up some cash on the side so he can get into a halfway decent university.
Thankfully, things are mildly less awkward as they catch the monorail together to Tatsumi Port Island, Haru gushing about the ocean views as Niijima occasionally points out areas of interest on their journey to Gekkoukan. Eventually, though, the trio round the corner, and Ren’s breath catches in his throat. Pink cherry blossom petals dance on the wind, gliding through the blue skies as Gekkoukan’s sleek white walls unfurl before them.
They’re here.
“The cherry blossoms are impressive this year.” Haru notes with a smile. “I’m happy you got to see them, Amamiya-kun – they don’t always bloom so late into the season.”
“It’s beautiful.” He swallows, too busy devouring his surroundings with his eyes to pay much heed to her words.
Clearly sensing his distraction, his dormmates are happy to continue the journey to the school in silence, Niijima occasionally exchanging polite nods with people as Haru giggles and waves.
“See you in class, Okumura-chan!” A girl farewells, and Ren almost trips over his feet as he comes crashing down to reality.
Okumura?
Haru’s smile withers into something slightly more pinched as Ren stares at her with shock. Of course. Haru. Okumura Haru, heir to one of the biggest fortunes in the country and the latest scion of the company that torpedoed Ren’s life. Swallowing for entirely different reasons this time, he turns away, eyes rigidly locked to the school. He hasn’t even been here a day, and he’s been trapped between a perfect, polite ice queen and the future ruler of the company that haunts his nightmares. Fucking hell.
Either missing or ignoring his discomfort, Niijima looks his way. “Follow me – I’ll take you to the faculty office. You’re in class… 2-F, wasn’t it? If my memory is correct, that means Kawakami-sensei is your homeroom teacher.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay.” Ren rapidly shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It wouldn’t be an imposition at all.” Niijima smiles. “I’m running for student council president this year, and, well, I wouldn’t be a very good one if I didn’t help new students, would I?”
“… Fine.” Ren concedes, realising that it would at least be a good way to ditch Haru. Okumura? He has no idea what to call her anymore.
Niijima gives her friend a quick farewell, marching off towards their destination at such a brisk pace it saves Ren the job of figuring out how he’s meant to say goodbye to Okumura. The trip to the faculty office is quick, Niijima dumping him into the hands of a yawning woman who much be Kawakami.
Skimming through his papers, she wrinkles her nose when she sees his grades, and winces once she presumably gets to the section on his living situation. Thankfully though, Kawakami deals with the elephant in the room by ignoring it, which is fine by him. Before he knows it, Ren’s standing in front of his new class, almost thirty pairs of eyes glued on him as yet again he bows and gives out a canned greeting.
“There’s a spot next to Kitagawa-kun.” Kawakami gestures towards a lanky boy with midnight blue hair draped over one eye. “Off you go!”
Taking a seat, Ren gives his classmate a smile, only to jolt backwards as the boy suddenly leans in close, his eyes drilling into Ren as if he’s inspecting a bug.
“Yes, I see…” Kitagawa mutters as Kawakami continues the homeroom announcements.
Rearing back, Ren blinks as the other boy moves with him, trespassing even further into his personal space. Eventually, it hits the point where if Ren went any further backwards, he’d topple onto the ground, but Kitagawa’s invasion does not relent. The boy gets so close Ren’s convinced they’re about to touch, only for Kitagawa to suddenly snap back upright.
“Aha!” He exclaims, none too quietly. “That broody expression, those dark, sultry eyes… you!”
Prophecy fulfilled, there’s now a finger jabbing into Ren’s chest, and he doesn’t exactly know what to do with it.
“The second I laid sight upon your Byronic mien, inspiration flowed into my veins!” Kitagawa monologues. Ren’s pretty sure he hasn’t blinked for at least a minute now. “Please, do me the favour of deigning to be my muse, Amamiya Ren!”
The finger withdraws, replaced by a business card to one Kitagawa Studios, not that Ren has any more of an idea about what he’s supposed to do with it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Salvation comes in the form of the boy sitting in front of Ren, who arches an unimpressed brow at Kitagawa. “Tone things down, like, 500 percent dude.”
“Sakamoto-kun’s right.” Kawakami drawls with the tone of one who’s seen this a thousand times before from the front of the class. “No soliciting your fellow students, Kitagawa-kun. You’re making him uncomfortable.”
As class resumes, Kitagawa huffs. “How rude! I was not soliciting him, merely making a friendly enquiry!”
“Uh… The ‘uncomfortable’ thing was the important part of that, Yusuke.” Sakamoto rolls his eyes before turning back to face the board.
To Ren’s utter relief, the rest of the day passes far more smoothly. Packing up his books, Ren’s half a second away from absconding from the school when Kitagawa clears his throat.
“I would like to apologise if my proposition came off as alarming, Amamiya-san.” Kitagawa bows formally. “As a student of the fine arts, I strive to follow the path where my passions take me, however, I admit I sometimes make lapses in social decorum on the way to the beauty I seek.” Stoic expression softening, Kitagawa graces him with a smile. “I would truly appreciate it though if you would consider modelling for me. There is something… unique about you, even if I can’t quite place it exactly.”
Without further ado, the artist apparent stride away, leaving a baffled Ren in his wake.
“Sorry ’bout that. Yusuke ain’t a bad guy, but he lives on a whole other planet.” This time, it was the other boy’s – Sakamoto’s – turn to address him. In contrast to the traditionally pretty Kitagawa, he’s far more rugged, with broad shoulders and black hair cropped short. Squinting, Sakamoto scans Ren in turn. “Though I guess I get what he was talkin’ about. Those eyes and hair kinda make you look like a bad boy, y’know? Honestly, I’m kinda jealous.” His boyish grin turns beaming. “If my ma and the ol’ coach wouldn’t kill me for it, I’d love to get some piercings! Whaddya think – could I pull it off?”
Ren takes in Sakamoto and his golden retriever energy, and instantly winces. “No.”
“Dude, that was ice cold.” Sakamoto laughs before offering Ren his hand. “I’m Sakamoto Ryuji, though you can just call me Ryuji – I don’t give a toss about all that formality crap.”
Despite himself, Ren can’t help but smile. He hasn’t really had anyone he’d actually call a friend in a while – he was too busy trying to meet his aunt’s standards, and by the time he’d given up on that, he’d stopped caring – but what’s the point of even getting freedom if he doesn’t do anything with it? Aunt Hanako would hate Ryuji too, which is definitely a plus.
(Maybe he should give Niijima and Kitagawa a second chance too. The jury’s still very much out on Okumura, however.)
“Then call me Ren.” He grins, shaking the boy’s hand. “I don’t, either.”
“Neat!” Ryuji sweeps a hand though his hair. “Hey, how about I show you around the town?” Almost on cue, however, his eyes blow wide open. “Wait – shit. It’s Tuesday today, ain’t it?” As Ren nods, he lets out a curse. “Dammit! Sorry ‘bout this – I’ve got track today. A promise is a promise though – I’ll take you out later! Bye!”
Half catapulting over his desk, Ryuji bolts from the classroom, and for the second time in his life, Ren’s world gets drowned in blue, blue, blue.
I am thou… Thou art I…
Thou hast established a new bond…
It shall become part of the path thy travels
on thou’s journey towards the ultimate answer.
Thou shalt be blessed when creating
Personas of the Strength Arcana…
Ren stands, stock still, as colour and life leech back into his vision. Gripping the strap of his satchel so tight his knuckles stain white, the teenager’s stomach twists and twirls. This… this is getting really, really weird, and just a bit too elaborate to be some typical run-of-the-mill hallucination.
Suddenly no longer in the mood for socialising, Ren begins to meander back to the dorm.