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Chapter Text

Ren didn’t remember much of the car ride back to LeBlanc. He knew Sae tried to talk to him a couple times, but she sounded distant and garbled. The drug? Maybe. Probably. Damn it.

That had been too close. He’d almost actually died. Though Akechi couldn’t see his real self, thanks to the Metaverse cognition they’d created, Ren had felt it the moment Akechi came into the interrogation room. According to the American saying, curiosity killed the cat, and Ren was very catlike in some ways; he couldn’t resist triggering his Third Eye power to see what was going on. Akechi looked watery, since Ren was looking through the Metaverse cognition of himself, but he could see the murderous intent, the perverse pleasure the ace detective was getting out of this…and he saw something else. Maybe it was because Akechi was finally showing his true colors while Ren had the Third Eye engaged, but Ren thought he saw a reflection of his own abandonment and pain in Akechi’s eyes.

Well. He’d probably never know, now. Hopefully, anyway. The car’s wheel hit a bump, thumping him against the door, and the teenager nearly screamed in pain, wrapping his arms around himself as he hunched deeper in his seat.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sae muttered, pulling the car as close to LeBlanc’s as possible before throwing it into park and getting out. She hesitated a moment by his door before turning and running to LeBlanc’s. Ren had gotten out of the police station under his own power, but he’d declined rapidly since then. She could tell there was no way he’d be able to walk, nor could she carry him. That damned drug, she fumed, rounding the corner at full speed. And then she jumped backwards, flailing to keep from falling over as she narrowly avoided running headlong into the last person she expected to see. “Makoto?”

“Is this a bad time to tell you I’m dating Ren?” Makoto asked. She was flushed, her eyes hot, and she was breathing hard, like she’d just run from somewhere. “Futaba was tracking Ren’s GPS, and she called me when you were close. Where is he?”

“Makoto, I don’t think…” The words died in Sae’s throat at the fierce expression on her sister’s face. For the first time, she saw what Ren described when he talked about her Queen personality in the Metaverse. She was outright dangerous at the moment. That was going to take some adjustment – her sister had always been so agreeable and quiet – but they didn’t have time to argue at the moment. “He can’t walk.”

“Then we’ll carry him,” Makoto said, nodding choppily. “C’mon, let’s not waste time.”

Sae let out a breath, then turned on her heel and led the way back to her car.

Back in the car, Ren was doing his damndest to get out of the car on his own. He needed to get up, get out, but his body had gone into full rebellion. He’d managed to get himself unbuckled and turned to grab the handle, but couldn’t manage anything else. He flopped against the door, grasping helplessly at the handle, which seemed to be so far away. Then the door on the other side opened, and he smelled Makoto’s perfume. “Mako…” he croaked, trying to turn toward her.

“Ren!” God, her voice was so far away. He blinked a few times, trying to make her come into focus. For just a moment, he managed to focus on her face. He could see fear and barely-controlled rage warring for dominance, and then his vision tunneled down into darkness, and he collapsed.

Makoto had never moved so fast in her life. She flung herself into the car, scrambling across the seat to catch Ren before he could fall. He weighed more than she expected when he was unconscious, and she grunted as she shifted under his weight. “I’ve got you,” she murmured in his ear. “I have you.”

Sae opened the door closest to Ren and slipped one of his arms over her shoulders, hoisting him up and holding him long enough to allow Makoto out to help. Working in concert, the two sisters carried the unconscious Phantom Thief down the back alley and into LeBlanc.

Sojiro was behind the counter, frozen solid. Even the harsh jangle of the bell couldn’t reach through his horror as he stared at the television. “Breaking news! The police have just announced that the leader of the Phantom Thieves has committed suicide while in custody.”

“Oh dear God,” Sojiro whispered.

“Sojiro!” Makoto snapped, and Sae flinched a little. She wasn’t at all used to this side of her sister. It wasn’t a bad thing, but it would take some getting used to. “We need a hand, here!”

Sojiro turned, and his eyes widened as he took in the tableau in front of him: the prosecutor who had threatened him and the Student Council President, standing together, holding up a bloodied, bruised, unconscious young man with a very familiar mop of tousled black hair. The cat jumped on the counter and yowled at him, startling him out of his shock. “Is that…?”

“Yes,” Makoto said, and Sae could hear the strain in her voice. “Help, please?”

“Oh, uh, right!” Shaking himself firmly, Sojiro hurried around the counter and took Sae’s place as she handed her side of Ren off to him. “What happened to him?”

“The police happened to him,” Sae said grimly, rolling her shoulders. “I have to go, I can’t have my car near his last known residence for very long. I don’t know what all happened to him, but I know he was dosed with amobarbital. Tell the doctor, so she doesn’t give him anything that’ll interact with it.” And with that, she turned sharply and left the building, hurrying back to her car.

“Real hit-and-run sort, your sister,” Sojiro said with dry sarcasm.

“She’s always been like that,” Makoto sighed. “Come on, let’s get him up the stairs.”

“How did you know to come here?” he asked as the two of them began hauling Ren up the narrow steps. It wasn’t easy, and Makoto used the exertion to keep from having to answer for a little bit.

“Futaba contacted me,” she said, when she couldn’t put it off any longer. “I’m sorry we had to scare you, Boss, we couldn’t tell anyone what we were planning. I promise we’ll explain it all to you when he’s back on his feet.”

Sojiro grunted, but accepted that answer for the moment as the two of them got Ren onto the bed. “I’ll go get the doc,” he said, straightening up. “Jesus Christ! What the hell did they do to him?”

Makoto couldn’t answer that; she hadn’t watched the interrogation footage. She knew it was available, and that Futaba had been glued to her screens, but she couldn’t stomach the idea of watching that. Just thinking about it made her want to throw up. “He was meant to die,” she whispered, her shoulders sagging. “They meant to kill him.”

“Sure looks like they gave it a damn good try.” Sojiro hesitated a moment before squeezing Makoto’s shoulder, surprising the teenager. “He’s safe now. And I expect an explanation when he’s up.”

And with that, he headed back down the stairs and out the front door.

Makoto pulled Ren’s desk chair over and collapsed into it, shaking like a leaf. Now that the adrenaline of hauling his unconscious body around was wearing off, she began processing what had actually happened in the last couple of days. They’d known it wasn’t going to be good, of course. They thought they’d prepared for all possible contingencies. But this was especially bad. She hadn’t expected him to be drugged, or beaten so badly he looked like a ragged boxing heavy bag.

Morgana hopped up on the bed and sat by Ren’s other hip. He looked extremely concerned, his tail wrapped around himself and the tip twitching sporadically, but he didn’t say anything. It was as if he sensed that anything could be the wrong thing to say at the moment, which was true enough, as far as it went.

Composing herself, Makoto took a deep breath and really looked at Ren. His face was pale and drawn, where it wasn’t covered in bruises. His lip was split open, his cheek was swollen, and dried blood flaked off his neck as he breathed raggedly. She checked his pulse at his neck gently and bit her lip; his heartbeat was definitely slower than it should be, even with him unconscious. Sliding her hand gently down his arm, she took his limp hand in both of hers and squeezed it gently. “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered, her voice catching. “You’re safe.”

“Makoto, his wrists,” Morgana said softly.

Something about the tone of his voice made Makoto look down, something she immediately regretted. “What…?” she asked, suddenly breathless with horror.

Her sister was a prosecutor, and her father had been a police officer; she knew the marks of a vicious fight against handcuffs. His wrists were banded with dark bruises, with a couple cuts gashed deep into the insides of his wrists. It looked like someone had gone at his skin with a butter knife.

“He wouldn’t fight the cuffs that hard on his own,” Morgana said softly, echoing the conclusion she had just reached. That sort of damage took a lot of work and violence, and Ren was a smart guy. He wouldn’t risk hurting his wrists on his own, not when he needed the mobility to wield his dagger.

“They tortured him,” Makoto whispered, her mouth dry. And suddenly, she was absolutely terrified to find out what the damage was under his clothing.

“Yeah.” Futaba’s voice, suddenly piping up from behind her, scared the shit out of Makoto. She jumped, yelping in surprise as she jerked around to look at the younger girl. Futaba stood at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a warm blanket and looking younger than she had in the time Makoto had known her. She was pale, her hair disheveled, and she had left her headphones behind, for some reason. “They were absolutely brutal.”

“What…?” Makoto stopped when Futaba met her eyes. The younger girl’s eyes were haunted, exhausted, and red. She’d been crying. Sobbing, even, maybe.

“You don’t want to know,” Futaba said, her voice soft and raspy. “If he wants to tell you, that’s his call, but…” She shook her head. “It was bad.”

“Damn it,” Makoto whispered, her voice shaking as her eyes filled with tears. “I…I didn’t know.”

“Of course not, none of us did. But, I mean, it’s Ren.” Futaba sighed. “He just had to pull agro for us, like the massive moron he is.” Despite her brave words, Makoto could see tears gathering in Futaba’s eyes again.

Makoto cuddled his hand against her chest, her hands curled around his as she closed her eyes. “You idiot,” she whispered to him. “You self-sacrificing idiot. You’re not allowed to not be all right. You hear me? You’ve come through so much worse; you have to be okay. We need you for the mission.” She paused, taking a shaking breath. “I need you.”

As if called by her words, Ren’s breathing changed and his face furrowed into lines of pain as he started to wake up. Then he gasped, his eyes flying open as his whole body jerked. “No!” His voice was high, thready with a pain she couldn’t begin to understand.

“Hey, hey, easy,” Makoto said, squeezing his hand and gripping his shoulder gently. “You’re safe. It’s okay, you’re safe now. You’re home. At LeBlanc’s.”

His eyes were glassy and pained as he struggled to focus, squinting hard at her face. “Mako…” he whispered, his hand tightening painfully around hers. “Dream?”

“No.” Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat, trying again. “No, Ren, it’s not a dream. I’m really here. You’re really home.”

Ren closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing for a moment. She recognized that breathing pattern as something he tended to do in battle: slow, easy, centering breaths that slowed his heartbeat and kept him focused. Then he nodded slowly, gingerly. “Glad you’re here,” he murmured, and now he sounded a little more like himself. But his face was still twisted in pain, and he hadn’t released the death grip he had on her hand.

The downstairs door opened and closed, the bell jingling, and Makoto heard several people heading for the stairs. Ren’s eyes opened again, the whites showing as he tried to sit up in alarm. “Hey, no,” Makoto said firmly, putting a hand on his shoulder and pressing him down again. “Sojiro went to get the doctor. I’m sure that’s them coming back.”

He’d never been this jumpy before. Of course, he was always a bit wary, watching the world through the curtain of his hair – she suspected that came from the whispers and rumors when he’d first started school – but he tended to be laid-back and relaxed around his friends. This sort of battlefield awareness was more Joker than Ren, but Joker when he was tired and drained and ready to be done with the day.

Sojiro appeared at the top of the stairs, with a woman right on his heels. Makoto had met Tae Takemi once or twice, mostly when Ren brought her in to help with the doctoring, but she’d never really taken the time to get to know the older woman. Still, Ren trusted her. That went a long way, in Makoto’s book. Takemi was carrying an old-fashioned black medical bag, and it clanked as she moved. “News says you died,” she remarked, walking to the bed and setting the bag down with a grunt of effort. “You look pretty alive, in my professional opinion.”

The corners of Ren’s mouth pulled up a little into a faint smile. “Glad to have a doctor confirm that,” he murmured, a trace of his usual sarcasm in his voice. “I was hoping mind-numbing pain wouldn’t show up in the afterlife.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky?” Takemi smirked. “Right, we need to get you stripped down so I can get an idea of what’s going on.”

Ren paused and blushed scarlet, reaching over with his free hand for the coverlet. “Um…” he managed, pulling the blanket over his face. “Can, can we not? Possibly?”

“We can leave,” Sojiro offered, nudging Futaba. She let out a protesting noise, but subsided when Takemi glanced over her shoulder at the younger girl. “Give you some space.”

“Yes,” Makoto agreed reluctantly, starting to let go of Ren’s hand. She didn’t want to leave him alone, but she also didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. He’d already been through hell.

The world wasn’t making a whole lot of sense to Ren at the moment, but he knew one thing for sure: Makoto’s hands around his were all that was holding him from floating off into a truly painful void. He grabbed at her, holding her hands tightly as he peeked out from under the blanket. “Stay?” he asked, his voice cracking. Damn it. He hated being vulnerable, hated being so weak and pitiful, but he was so tired and in a truly hellish amount of pain.

Makoto’s lips parted in surprise, and Ren flushed scarlet as he released her hands and burrowed back under the blanket. Stupid, so stupid, of course this wouldn’t be easy on her. “It’s…it’s okay,” he mumbled from under the blanket.

That broke Makoto out of her surprised haze. “Hey, no,” she said softly, sliding her hand under the blanket and finding his hand. He’d curled in on himself a little, and her heart ached as she realized he’d gone into a defensive position. “Ren. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, I’ll stay right here.”

“Really?” The strained hope in his voice broke her heart, and Makoto held his hand tightly as he peeked out again. “You sure?”

“Of course,” Makoto whispered, stroking her thumb over the back of his hand. “Of course, Ren. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He visibly relaxed a little, and Makoto swallowed. She wasn’t used to him taking this role. He was always the confident one, the one who remained composed when her heart was threatening to hammer out of her chest, the one who knew exactly the right thing to say to someone who was panicking. He could talk Futaba out of a panic attack, guide Haru to confidence, and prod Ryuji into facing his fears. And he was the one who was looking up at her with tears in his charcoal-grey eyes, asking for help. She wasn’t used to being the one providing strength, but he needed her. How could she ever say no?

“Deep breath, boyo,” Takemi murmured, opening her bag. “Nothing wrong with taking a little help yourself, sometimes.” She glanced up at Makoto with an approving little curve to her lips, before she looked at Sojiro.

“C’mon,” Sojiro prodded, nudging Futaba off the couch and down the stairs. “Let’s give them a moment.” Futaba clearly wasn’t thrilled by the idea, but she stomped down the stairs in a huff, her blanket trailing after her like a queen’s train.

Makoto smiled a bit at that before turning back to her boyfriend and setting her jaw. “Okay, let’s see what we can do here.” Ren swallowed hard, but pulled the blanket back as he looked away, hiding his face as best as he could.

Working together, the two women stripped Ren down to his underwear and took stock. Try as she might, Makoto couldn’t keep back her tears of pain and rage as she saw the bruises his clothes had concealed. The bruises on his face and wrists were only the beginning. Ren writhed in silent pain when they touched his bruised abdomen, and Makoto didn’t dare touch the massive bootprint on his thigh.

“What in God’s name did they do to you?” Takemi asked, sounding a bit more shaken than was technically professional. “Jesus fuck, you look like you went nine rounds with a professional boxer.”

“Close enough.” Ren clamped a hand over his mouth, exhaling sharply as Takemi set to work examining him. She was as gentle as she could be, her tender touch belying her usual brisk exterior. He knew she cared a lot more than she let on, and that her standoffishness was a protective layer she kept around herself. Right at the moment, though, her hands felt like burning brands as she examined him. He managed to keep it together as she probed his shoulder, though he hissed as she pressed around the joint, looking for any problems besides the massive bruising. That kick was something Ren would remember for as long as he lived. The cop's sadistic sneer, the impact that sent him crashing to the ground, the searing pain that tore through him as he landed badly on his side. Those would remain burned into his memory as fresh and clear as the bruises and marks that adorned his body right now.

When she got to his ribs and began pressing, looking for broken bones, he couldn’t contain himself any longer. He was exhausted, hurting more than he’d ever hurt in his life (including when Arsene came bursting out of his skull to make his life a whole lot more interesting), and the drug hadn’t quite worn off yet. Despite all of his best efforts, he couldn’t keep himself from bursting into tears as she pressed her hands against his ribs and pain blossomed through his whole body.

Makoto was there immediately. She was sitting on the futon at his other side, holding his hand, and the moment he burst into tears, she bent down to press her cheek against his. “Breathe,” she murmured, kissing his wet cheek gently. “I know it hurts, but it’s going to be all right. I’m right here; you’re not alone.” She couldn’t hold him at the moment, not when the doctor was so busy checking his wounds, but she did her level best to keep him close despite the circumstances.

Turning into her as much as he could, Ren hid his face in Makoto’s shoulder, hiding away from the world as he sobbed helplessly. Now that he’d finally lost control, he couldn’t get it back, and he clung to his girlfriend as the last bastion of stability in his life as his façade fell in pieces around him.

“Can’t you give him anything?” Makoto whispered to Takemi, her eyes filled with tears. “Anything, just to mute the pain a bit?”

“Basically, the only things I can give him are light over the counter things,” the doctor murmured back. “Maybe enough to take a tiny bit off the edge, but…”

“You provide those amazing medicines, though,” Makoto protested. “Why can’t you use one of those?”

“Those work for you guys because you’re young and healthy. I have no idea how it would interact with the drugs they gave him.” Takemi looked like she was about to tear throats out with her teeth. “Fucking truth serum on a minor. Don’t suppose the Phantom Thieves can do anything about it?”

It was still surprising to hear anyone outside of their group acknowledge that they were the Phantom Thieves, and Makoto startled a little. Not the best idea when she was holding her wounded boyfriend, as he reminded her with a yelp of pain that was only just muffled by her shirt. “Sorry,” she whispered, petting his unruly, damp hair.

“’salright,” Ren mumbled, adjusting his grip on her shirt. “’mokay.”

“Liar,” Makoto murmured affectionately, kissing his hair. “You know that doesn’t work on me.”

“Always…worth a try.”

“Let’s get some Tylenol into you,” Takemi decided, standing up and heading for the stairs. “Sojiro! I need a cup of water!”

Makoto heard low grumbling from below and had to smile a little. “How is everything looking?” she asked, eyeing the bruises with a grimace.

“Not as bad as I feared, but bad enough,” Takemi said, coming back and getting a small bottle out of her bag. “Bone bruises, I think a couple cracked ribs, though I want to get x-rays at some point to make sure, and the cuts you’ve seen. None of them should need stitches, but he should take it easy for a few days.”

“Not gonna happen,” Ren mumbled.

“Do you want me to punch you?” Makoto asked.

“Not really.”

“Then you listen to the doctor.”

Blinking away tears, Ren blew his hair out of his eyes as he looked up at Makoto. His eyes were clearer now than they had been – pain had a habit of clearing the senses, she supposed – and Makoto caught a yellow glint overlaying his grey irises. Was he using the Third Eye here, now? Why? “We don’t have time for that,” he said quietly. “We have to strike now, as soon as we figure out who Akechi works for.”

At least he sounded a little more normal now, his voice calm and easy as he assumed the command role again. Makoto wasn’t sure she liked him taking on Joker’s mask at the moment; he really should be resting, not thinking for the Phantom Thieves. But he did sound stronger when he was able to focus away from his body and what had happened to him. Still. He was hiding in there; even as he met her eyes, she could tell he was holding up a mask between them.

Sojiro came up the stairs, carrying a small tray. Now that she had a moment to pay attention, Makoto realized she’d smelled curry for a while. Her stomach growled, and Ren chuckled as he poked her side gently. “You should eat,” he added.

“Yes, Mother,” Makoto snorted, shaking her head. “I’m fine, really.”

“There’s plenty of curry,” Sojiro said. “I made up a big pot. Futaba is eating downstairs. Takemi, you’re welcome to some, too.”

“And my wallet is on the desk,” Ren murmured. “To pay Takemi.”

Taking the glass of water off the tray, Takemi shook out a dose of pain medication and handed it off to Ren. “You’re insane if you think you’re going to pay me, you moron,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I can’t expect you to work for free,” Ren protested, taking the meds and swallowing them with a grimace. He swore as his hands shook violently, nearly spilling the last of the water. Makoto reached out, cupping her hands around his to help steady his grip. She felt him inhale sharply as she brushed over his bruised wrists, but at least he didn’t lose the water all over himself. “Such a damn child!” he snarled, his sudden self-directed rage painful to see. But almost as soon as he flared up, he cooled off again, looking up at Makoto with damp eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, blinking rapidly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to…to snap. Like that.”

He needed some privacy. Makoto could see it in his eyes. He was holding himself together with tape and a prayer, and both were about to fail him. Looking up at Takemi, she asked quietly, “Do you have any other instructions for me?”

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Takemi replied, taking the hint and beginning to pack up her things. “Once the worst of the drug has passed through his system, he’ll be able to be on the good pain meds.” She pulled a card out of her pocket and left it on the shelf by the bed. “Call any time if he needs medical assistance.” She held Makoto’s eyes for a moment longer than was comfortable, making sure the younger woman understood the unspoken message: call if you need help, too.

Makoto managed a smile and nodded. “I’ll do that.”

“I need to get things closed up,” Sojiro said. “There’s plenty of curry downstairs in the pot; I’ll leave it for you two.” Not even a murmur of a thought toward Makoto leaving; Boss was a good man, who knew that his young charge needed his girlfriend. He ushered Takemi down the stairs.

Morgana paused at the top of the stairs to look at them with worried eyes. “I’ll go stay with Futaba tonight,” he offered softly.

“Thank you,” Makoto said, offering him a smile. “Come back first thing in the morning?” She didn’t want to kick Morgana out and make him feel unwelcome; he was always welcome in the attic, but at this moment, Ren needed to collapse without witnesses.

Morgana let out a soft yowl and nodded. “First thing,” he promised. “With Boss’s coffee.” With that, he trotted down the stairs, and a few moments later, Makoto heard all of them leave, the bolt sliding into place behind Boss.

Ren closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to control the maelstrom of emotions in his heart. Usually, his strong emotional core served as the source of his power. He had over a hundred Personas registered with Igor, and all of them left traces of personality and emotion behind. He had to be solid in himself to control them and lead the Phantom Thieves, all at the same time. But right now? Right now, he wasn’t solid. He felt like he was five years old again, all wobbling lower lip and tear-filled eyes when he fell and scraped his knee on the pavement.

“Hey,” Makoto said softly, running her fingers through his unruly hair. “Ren, love, don’t go burying yourself where I can’t follow, okay?”

“Everything’s a mess,” Ren rasped, clearing his throat and making a face. He sounded like he’d been screaming for the last five hours which, when he thought about it, probably wasn’t all that unrealistic. His memories of the interrogation room were hazy at best, but he knew he’d been talking a long time, catching Sae up on everything. “Mako…”

“I’m here,” Makoto said softly, stretching out next to him. She was afraid to wrap an arm around him anywhere, but she did aim to press as close to him as she physically could along his side. “Do you want something to wear to bed? Or will that be uncomfortable?”

“I don’t want to move more than I have to,” he admitted, trying to take a deep breath. Nothing was actually broken. But he could still feel the kick to his stomach, the boot on his head, the stabbing pain of the needle in his bicep, the shock of cold water splashed across his face…his eyes filled with tears again, and he covered his face with both hands.

Turning into him, Makoto pulled the blanket over both of them, enclosing them in a little cocoon warmed with their bodies and filled with the sound of his unsteady breathing. “It’s okay to cry,” she murmured, resting her forehead against his temple.

“Can’t,” Ren choked out.

“Why not?”

He shook his head, frustrated. And despite his best efforts, tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes, sliding into his hair and dampening Makoto’s forehead. “Just…can’t.”

“You’re not alone anymore,” Makoto said softly, running her fingers gently through his hair. “I know you think you have to be strong for the rest of us, but you’re human, too. Let me be strong for you, for once.”

Ren scoffed, the sound catching in his throat. “You’re always strong,” he mumbled. “My Queen.”

“Sweet talker,” Makoto said with a smile, kissing his temple carefully. “But you’ve seen me in my weakest moments. I trust you with my life. Won’t you trust me?”

He wanted to protest that he did trust her, of course. They were teammates who fought and bled together, he loved her deeply, and she understood him better than anyone else. But the words stuck in his throat. Did he even know how to trust, truly? Other people trusted him, and so easily. He envied them the ease of their trust.

Before coming to Tokyo, he hadn’t had many friends. He’d been the weird kid in school, the one who preferred the company of his video games and books over people. He’d had a few friends, but they clearly hadn’t been very good ones, given how fast they’d disappeared when he acquired a criminal record. None of them even asked why, or what happened. They just vanished, leaving him hurting and alone.

And his parents…well. His mother remarried to a rich asshole after his father left them, and his stepfather made it abundantly clear that he didn’t consider Ren his kid. His mother had protested for a couple years before giving up, more concerned with keeping her new husband happy than dealing with a kid who watched more than he spoke. They couldn’t get rid of him fast enough after the charges, after the court case, and it was almost a relief to be out of that house.

He was used to being alone. He was used to being left behind. He was used to living with a mask between himself and the world. The Metaverse was almost a relief after his normal life. At least there, the mask was real, and he could be himself.

But then, everything changed. Sure, he was isolated at school, with the rumors swirling around him in a never-ending current. But he had friends. Friends who knew about his record, who saw him vanish into his books now and again, and who still wanted him around. They texted to invite him out, and didn’t take it personally when he answered with a couple lines of text, or didn’t answer at all.

They accepted him, just the way he was. They didn’t ask him to change, or think he was weird.

Makoto accepted him. Turning a little, Ren let a hand fall away from his face so he could see her. In the dim light that filtered through the blanket, she seemed to glow. She was so beautiful, so focused, so direct. She was the perfect partner for him, someone else who knew where they were going and had the drive to keep pushing for answers through the doubt. Reaching out, he put a shaking hand over her heart. “I trust you,” he whispered, making the choice to be fully vulnerable with her. “Mako…” He couldn’t finish, his voice choking off as he dissolved into painful, wracking sobs.

Wrapping her arms around him, Makoto held him close as he curled in on himself. Usually he held her when they were together; he was so long and lanky, it was easy for him to drape himself around her. But right now…right now, he was clinging to her like she was the only thing keeping him from flying into a thousand pieces as he curled into the fetal position and sobbed into her. “I have you,” she murmured in his ear, tears welling in her eyes and spilling out at the sheer pain in his sobs. “I’m right here, Ren. I’m not going anywhere.”

He could hear her, but he couldn’t respond. He was lost in the pain, both physical and emotional, that threatened to tear him to pieces and wash him out to sea. She was the only solid thing at the moment, and he clung to her as flashes of every emotion pounded him. One second, he was so angry he could kill someone, his hands clenching into fists in Makoto’s shirt. The very next instant, guilt settled over him like an elephant sitting on his chest, making him gasp for what little breath he could manage. Then grief swept through him as he sobbed for everyone and everything lost on this journey.

Makoto lost track of time as she held Ren, soothing him through the peaks of his emotion and not flinching away from any of it. He needed her. He needed her to be there, to stand strong for him, and she rose to meet the challenge with an inner strength she rarely needed to use outside the Metaverse.

At long, long last, he collapsed against her, completely spent. They were both a mess of snot, sweat, and tears, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, not when she could see a glimmer of peace on his exhausted face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying to wipe some of his mess off of her shirt.

“Don’t worry about it,” Makoto murmured, shaking her head. “I’ll just take it off.”

He smiled against her skin, his hand resting on the buttons of her vest. “May I?” When she nodded, he clumsily undid the buttons, letting her vest fall open as he rested a hand on her side. She shifted carefully, moving as little as she could manage to strip out of her vest and shirt.

Ren propped himself on an elbow as she worked, watching her with tired eyes. It always amazed him, when he got to see her like this. A little rumpled, a little flushed, and open and vulnerable with him. He winced, his ribs reminding him that he’d just put an enormous amount of strain on cracked bones and bruised organs with all that sobbing. Shifting, he rolled onto his back and tried to breathe slowly. “Ow,” he mumbled.

“I know,” Makoto said softly, dropping her clothes in a pile on the floor and stretching out next to him. The room was a bit chilly, but he was warm enough that she didn’t feel the need to ask for a tee shirt to sleep in.

He shifted, slipping an arm around her and encouraging her to rest her head on his left shoulder. “It’s okay. My joints are sore, but not like the rest.” Compared to how badly everything else hurt, that wasn’t saying a whole lot, but he wanted her as close as possible.

She was still very careful as she settled into him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her hand resting lightly on his hip.

“Everything hurts at the moment,” Ren said with a sigh. “But you’re helping. Really.”

Makoto looked up at him, trying to see if he was lying to her. He looked back into her eyes, his gaze open and vulnerable. He wasn’t hiding anything, she could tell right away, and she relaxed as she smiled. “I’m glad I can help.”

“More than you know,” Ren murmured. The Tylenol was starting to kick in, easing the pain a little. With the pain lifting a bit, he found that he could barely keep his eyes open. “You’ll stay?” Stupid thing to say, offensive, even, but he couldn’t help it. He was terrified of waking up and finding himself alone.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Makoto promised, smoothing his hair down with light fingers.

“Thank you.” Ren exhaled, turning his head and tucking his nose into her shoulder. She was warm, and he was exhausted. Moments later, he was out cold, his steady breathing proving that he was deeply asleep.

May he stay under, below the dreams, Makoto thought, resting her cheek on his hair and closing her eyes. She was hungry, but she had no intention of moving. Besides, she was pretty tired, herself. Sighing out a breath, she fell asleep a few moments after him.

Morgana sat outside the window, his tail wrapped around his legs as he watched over the two teenagers. “If there are any gods,” he murmured, “they’re too hard on these guys.” He looked up at the sky, trying to imagine the stars behind the light pollution. “Maybe give them a break, huh?”

The sky didn’t respond, and the cat sighed as he scratched behind one ear before settling in to keep watch over them. At the very least, he could make sure they had one peaceful night before dealing with what came next.

Chapter Text

Makoto woke up sometime in the middle of the night, sleepily patting the bed as she looked for Ren. Her questing hands didn’t find her boyfriend, and she peeled her eyes open as she lifted her head a little. “Ren?” she called, wrapping the blanket around herself as she sat up.

She heard a thump from downstairs, followed by a string of curse words. Well, at least Ren wasn’t dead, or recaptured. That was a good start. Sliding off the futon, Makoto shrugged her blanket cloak up around her shoulders and padded down the stairs in her bare feet.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the bathroom door opened and Ren leaned heavily against the doorframe. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft and raspy. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” Makoto said, shaking her head as she examined him. He looked a bit better than he had when he first came home, but he was still so pale. The bruises stood out in shocking color against his skin. And… Makoto rubbed sleep out of her eyes and looked closer. Droplets of water clung to his chin and upper lip.

He ducked his head and swiped his hand over his mouth self-consciously when he realized what she was looking at, shrugging a little. “Couldn’t sleep,” he offered, but couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

She sniffed the air, then stuck her head into the bathroom. He’d done his best to cover it, but she could smell a lingering trace of vomit in the room. “At least you made it to the toilet?” she offered softly.

Ren laughed softly, shifting his feet. “Had to use the bathroom anyway, and then…” He rubbed the back of his neck. Then his knees buckled and he slid down the doorframe a little ways before he could catch himself.

“Hey, hey, easy,” Makoto said, wrapping her arm carefully around his waist to help support him. “Why don’t we sit down?”

“Suppose I don’t have much of a choice,” Ren grumbled, leaning heavily on her. “I was doing all right.”

“You didn’t fall down the stairs, so I’ll take that as a win.” Makoto helped him into the nearest booth, settling him into the corner.

“Hell of a win.” Ren folded his arms on the table and leaned forward, resting his forehead on his forearm with a grimace.

Makoto frowned, resting her fists on her hips. He was still in his underwear, the bruises standing out in stark relief on his pale skin, and he was shaking. Was it because he’d just thrown up, or because he was cold, or was the pain that bad? She had a nasty feeling it was a combination of all three things. Shrugging the blanket off, Makoto wrapped it around his shoulders, kissing his hair. “Let’s get you taken care of,” she said softly.

He leaned into her touch, sighing out a breath. “Hurts,” he mumbled, resting his head against her cheek.

“I know, love,” Makoto murmured, stroking his hair. She held him a moment longer before carefully drawing away. “The doctor left some pain medication upstairs. I’ll go get it. Try to warm up a bit?” He nodded, blinking up at her, and she realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses. His face always looked so vulnerable without the glass shielding him. Bending, she kissed his lips lightly, blushing a little, before hurrying up the stairs.

Really, his space was so sparse. Even with the decorations he’d added on the shelves and hanging from the rafters, it looked so…Spartan. Admittedly, he was only ever in his room to work on stuff and sleep, and when the Phantom Thieves were in the room, it was filled with more than enough personality to make up for the sparse decorations. But still, didn’t he find it depressing? Shaking her head a little, Makoto pushed the thoughts away. That didn’t matter right now. She found the bottle of over-the-counter medication Takemi-san had left behind for them, next to Ren’s glasses.

Sis must have grabbed the glasses sometime in the escape; these were pretty clearly the glasses that had been through the interrogation with Ren. Makoto picked them up carefully, opening the earpieces. Nothing was broken, which was a minor miracle, but the frame and lenses were lightly spattered with blood. Holding them up to the light, Makoto realized there was water stains on the inside and outside of the lenses. It didn’t take a Sherlock Holmes to understand what that meant: he’d been splashed with water, and still had the glasses on when he was crying.

Makoto squeezed her eyes shut, covering her mouth with one hand as she forced back the pained tears. He was safe. He was home. And he needed her to take care of him for a little bit. She wasn’t going to be much use if she couldn’t see through her tears.

It took her a moment or two to force the tears back, but she did finally pull it off. Clearing her throat quietly, Makoto shivered. LeBlanc was so cold in the middle of the night. She grabbed the bottle of pain medication and Ren’s glasses and headed back into the main café, only pausing long enough to grab one of Ren’s long-sleeved button-down shirts.

Ren was sitting up a little, looking back at the stairs with an expression akin to panic, but he visibly relaxed when he saw her. “Thought you got lost,” he murmured. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Makoto said, setting the bottle down on the table and offering him his glasses.

He took them, but didn’t look away from her face. “Mako,” he said softly. “What’s wrong?”

Makoto ducked her head, pulling the shirt on as a way to busy her hands. “Nothing important,” she mumbled.

“You look like you’re about to start crying.” Ren scooted closer to her, putting the glasses on the table so he could take her hand in his. “That’s pretty important to me.”

Why did he have to be so sweet? She could put up a wall against someone snapping at her, but she had no defenses at all against his tender words. Sitting next to him, Makoto laced her fingers with his. “There’s stains on your glasses,” she said at last. “Water, and…and blood.”

He picked them up with his free hand, holding them up to look through them. “A lot more than I expected,” he said, grimacing. He saw the same pattern she did, easily. How could he not? He’d been there; he knew what had happened and what to look for. “I’m sorry, I should’ve cleaned these.”

That surprised a shaky laugh out of Makoto. “Sure, sometime between passing out, getting tortured by the doctor, and throwing up. You had all sorts of spare time to think about your glasses.” Probably a bit more sarcastic than she needed to be, but she tended to revert to old bad habits when she was emotional.

Still, it got a laugh out of him as he set the glasses back on the table. “Of course, what was I thinking?” he teased. Then he squeezed her hand, his grip still surprisingly strong. “Is there something you want to ask me?” He held her gaze, the vulnerability clear in his eyes. He wasn’t hiding anything from her, and she knew instinctively that he would answer any question she had. No matter how much it hurt.

Makoto swallowed, closing her eyes a moment. “Let’s take care of you, first,” she said softly. “I won’t be able to relax if I’m worried about you.”

Ren considered that a moment before nodding. “Deal,” he agreed. “Your commands, my Queen?”

He always knew how to make her blush; she was pretty sure he had a thing for seeing her turn bright red. Clearing her throat, she kissed the corner of his mouth. “You need pain meds,” she said. “And those never go well on an empty stomach, so we need to get some food in you. Does Sojiro have any crackers, do you know?”

“Not that I know of,” Ren said, making a face at the idea of eating.

“Okay. Then I’ll warm up some rice. That should be easy enough on your stomach that it won’t cause problems. Once you’ve eaten and gotten some meds into you, we can go back to bed. Sound like a plan?”

“Sure.” Ren squeezed her hand. “Make sure you eat too, all right?”

“Hey, now,” Makoto teased. “You’re not allowed to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about you.”

“I’m able to pick up a few part-time shifts, worrying about you as well,” Ren teased back, smiling as he watched a blush blossom on her cheeks. He kissed her knuckles before releasing her hand.

“Such a brat,” Makoto sighed, getting up and shrugging her shoulders to settle his shirt a little more comfortably on her body. “I’ll be right back, all right?”

Ren nodded, watching her go. God, he hurt. Everything ached, with his leg and ribs screaming the loudest. He hadn’t told Makoto when she made the comment, but he had almost fallen down the stairs on his way to the bathroom when a wave of dizziness hit him unexpectedly. That hadn’t exactly helped the pain situation, and he was worried about what the dizziness and nausea might mean. He could work through pain, but if he was throwing up everywhere, he was going to be in trouble in the Metaverse.

More to the point, he wasn’t going to be able to lead. Ren’s mouth twisted sideways at that thought, but he couldn’t ignore it. If his team was focused on keeping him up and moving, then they weren’t going to be effective at fighting Shadows. He’d become a liability instead of an asset. Even his ability to use multiple Personas wouldn’t be very useful if he couldn’t focus enough to call forth the one he wanted.

Grimacing, Ren slid his fingers into his hair and leaned forward on his elbows, rubbing the back of his aching head. This sucked. The ordeal was over and done with, wasn’t that enough to allow him back into the fray? Apparently not. Akechi’s betrayal had to keep rubbing his face into the dirt.

“Ren?” He looked up to see Makoto looking at him from the kitchen. He couldn’t quite see her at this distance without his glasses on, so he picked them up and slid them onto his nose. Even the light pressure from the glasses was enough to make his head throb harder, and his nose protested the weight. He was probably bruised there, though he hadn’t been brave enough to look in the mirror. Blinking the tears of pain away, he looked up at Makoto. Concern drew her brows down into a frown, and he realized she was poised to come dashing to him if he needed help.

He managed a watery smile and flashed her a thumbs-up. “Hanging in there,” he said honestly. “Hurts, but I’m okay.”

“Promise?” Makoto asked, leaning on the doorframe. His borrowed shirt hung open around her in an alluring way that distracted him momentarily from his throbbing head, and his face eased into an easier smile.

God, she was beautiful. He had to pinch himself almost every day, still struggling to believe that he was allowed to date this gorgeous, smart, athletic leader.

“Hey, Amamiya.” He startled, realizing his eyes had been lingering on her slim body a bit longer than was technically kosher. He looked up into her eyes and relaxed; she was trying to maintain her frown, but her dark red eyes gave the game away. She was just seconds from bursting out laughing herself. “My eyes are up here,” she said, deliberately arching her back a bit as she pointed at her face.

“Tease,” Ren chuckled.

“Me?” Makoto opened her eyes wide in mock surprise. “Why, I never.”

“Of course not. Why don’t you come back over here so I can kiss you without incurring my Queen’s wrath?”

Makoto waved a spoon at him vaguely. “As soon as I’ve finished making our food. Then you can kiss me all you like.”

“Fine,” Ren sighed dramatically as he wrapped the blanket a little tighter around himself. Then he winced and took his glasses off. “As much as I like being able to see you, my face and the glasses are not getting along at the moment.”

“Then give your poor face a rest.” Makoto’s form was blurry in the kitchen, but he could make out enough to see that she was going through the final stages of warming food up. She confirmed that when she added, “Food’s almost ready, anyway. And then we can get some pain meds into you.”

“Swear to God, I’m going to visit Takemi as soon as it’s light and get some of her special medication,” Ren sighed, gingerly poking at the sore spots on his face.

“Stop poking at it, that won’t help,” Makoto scolded. “Do you think the medication will be as effective outside of the Metaverse?”

Ren paused mid-poke, frowning as he considered that. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It might…” He hummed thoughtfully, thinking through the logic as best as he could with a pounding head. “It might turn out to be like the guns and blades we use. Out here, they shoot airsoft pellets and are cool toys. In there, they kill Shadows.”

“So you think the medication might be effective, but significantly less so?”

“It seems logical.” Ren huffed out a breath. “We might need to make a trip into the Metaverse, for the medication to really do the most good.”

Something clattered in the kitchen, and Ren looked up in alarm, fumbling his glasses onto his face. Makoto stared at him, pale as a sheet. “That would mean going out to the subway,” she said. “When we’ve only just convinced Akechi that you’re dead.”

“I know it’s dangerous…” Ren began, but Makoto cut him off with a firm shake of her head.

“It’s suicidal, Ren. You can barely walk, and you want to go into the Metaverse? After walking through most of Shibuya?”

“As long as I keep my head down and don’t draw attention to myself, I’ll be fine. I’m one of those sorts of people who doesn’t stand out in a crowd.”

“Unless you want to,” Makoto muttered rebelliously, and Ren had to admit she had a point. Thanks to Toro’s tutelage, he’d developed a talent for standing out when he wanted to that somewhat negated his old ability to disappear into a crowd.

“Mako.” Ren got up gingerly, sitting on one of the bar stools so he could see her better. “I know this isn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.” She snorted in agreement, and he made a face at her; she wasn’t supposed to agree so readily. “But I really believe it’s necessary.”

“Why?” Makoto asked softly, coming to the bar and resting her forearms on the smooth wood. “We almost lost you for real, Ren. I was so, so terrified. I’ve never been that scared in my life, even when we were in Kaneshiro’s lair, and now you want to go and take your life back into your hands when you can barely walk down the stairs without falling?”

Her words were like a knife to the heart. He loved her, completely and wholly. Hearing that his actions scared her so badly hurt him to the core; he never wanted that. He wanted her safe and happy. But life and fate had a funny way of playing out sometimes, and their lives – their mission, even – demanded that they live their lives on the razor’s edge where it wasn’t safe and death lurked around every corner.

He reached out, taking her hands. “The whole purpose of throwing Akechi off the scent was so we could take down his boss,” he said quietly, holding Makoto’s gaze steadily. “That’ll mean working our way through a new Palace, whoever it ends up belonging to. It will almost certainly be the hardest Palace we’ve encountered yet, because it belongs to someone who has been orchestrating his or her distorted desires for months, using us as pawns.” Makoto swallowed with an audible click in her throat, and Ren nodded. “If you truly believe that the team can do that without me, then I’ll step aside as leader for a time while I heal.”

Makoto’s eyes flew wide open in panic at the very idea. “Ren! You’re our leader! You’re Joker, for God’s sake! There’s no way we’d be able to handle a Palace without your ability to switch Personas.”

“At the risk of sounding conceited, I think you’re right,” Ren agreed with a nod. “But you’re also right about one other thing: I can barely walk right now. I almost fell down the stairs coming to the bathroom.” Makoto inhaled sharply, and Ren winced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to worry you. But the point remains. I need to be back at full peak again so I can lead. I need to be able to focus to choose a Persona, and keep it under control.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Most of the Personas are pleased to use their powers under my command. But some of them fight me, and I have to have a steady will to control them. And because of the nature of power…” Ren trailed off, shrugging. “The more powerful the Persona, the harder I have to work to control them, sometimes.”

“I had no idea,” Makoto whispered.

“No one really does,” Ren agreed quietly, freeing a hand to massage his bruised temple gingerly. “It’s never really been an issue for me. Taking that sort of control is second nature, usually.” He blushed, a little embarrassed at how conceited he sounded. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Makoto said thoughtfully. She stepped away for a moment, snagging two plates and bringing them back. “Eat while we’re talking so you can get some meds into you.”

Ren nodded and began eating the plain rice in front of him. His stomach was not at all happy with him, but he ate anyway. Makoto was right, as she so often was, and after all he’d been through, he needed something to help keep him going.

The two of them ate in silence for a while. Then Makoto put her fork down with an air of finality. “I have conditions,” she said.

Ren smiled down at his plate and nodded. “Thought you might,” he agreed. “Let’s hear them.”

“You absolutely do not go alone.”

“We can’t have too many of us together out in the open. It’ll draw Akechi’s attention, and he’ll already be thinking of you guys and whether or not he needs to deal with revenge attempts.”

“I wasn’t suggesting we go in full force,” Makoto returned, rolling her eyes. “But I’m going with you. That’s non-negotiable. And I’d prefer it if we bring Morgana as well, in case we need transportation.”

Ren considered that for a moment before nodding. “I can agree to that.”

Makoto visibly relaxed, taking his hand and squeezing it in wordless thanks. “We’ll have to be really, really careful.”

“But if it means I’m back to full strength, then it’s worth it.” Ren squeezed her hand, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. “Then we can take down the bastard who’s been causing us so much trouble.”

One corner of Makoto’s mouth twitched in wry amusement. “You’ve been spending too much time around Ryuji. You’ve picked up his potty mouth.”

“Sometimes, swear words are the only effective way to get a point across.” Ren went back to eating, determined to get some pain meds in so he could get some sleep.

“I suppose there’s something to that.” Makoto stepped away for a second, filling a glass with water and bringing it back to him. “I think you have enough in your stomach to chance some more pain meds.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Ren agreed, taking the glass and the dose of medication she shook out of the bottle for him. He swallowed the pills and finished off the glass of water with a sigh of relief. He already felt a little better with some food in his stomach. He’d been in the clutches of the cops for over a day; maybe some of his unsteadiness was a result of being starving.

“Think you can eat any more?” Makoto asked softly, watching her boyfriend. His color was a little better. At the very least, he didn’t look like he was going to pass out any second, which was a massive improvement from when he’d first come staggering out of the bathroom.

Ren poked the small mound of rice left on the plate before shaking his head. “Best not to risk it.”

“All right.” Makoto worked her way quickly through the rest of her curry – wasting any of Boss’s curry was a crime even a Phantom Thief wouldn’t commit – before collecting their plates and taking them to the sink. “I’ll wash them in the morning,” she decided, coming around the counter and lightly touching the small of Ren’s back. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

“I feel like I should argue,” Ren said, resting his head on Makoto’s shoulder and closing his eyes, “but I’m far too tired.” He slid forward in his chair, patting the ground with his toes as he checked his balance before committing to standing. She wrapped her arm around his waist, supporting him as he stood up. Working together, they headed for the stairs and made their slow way upwards.

Much to Makoto’s relief, they made it back into Ren’s room without incident, and she got him settled into bed. She rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms up toward the ceiling, trying to relieve some of the stress from supporting his weight. He was heavy, for such a lanky guy.

“Mm, nice,” Ren murmured, and she realized he was watching her with tired appreciation.

She blushed, rubbing the back of her neck. “You really just like making me blush,” she teased.

“I like seeing you in my clothes,” Ren pointed out. “Though the blush is a nice touch, yes.”

“All right, Casanova, turn the charm down a bit,” Makoto laughed as she slipped out of his shirt and tossed it onto the couch. He lifted the blanket a bit, inviting her back into bed, and she snuggled into him carefully. “How are you feeling?”

Ren shrugged a bit with a sigh. “I hurt,” he said quietly. “A lot. But I feel a little better with some food in me, and after…well. Everything. The emotional stuff.”

Makoto smiled into his hair. Despite everything, he still wasn’t very good at describing his own emotions. But that was all right. She understood him, and he allowed himself to be vulnerable around her. That was the important part. She bit her lip, her thoughts coming back around to the question he’d asked her downstairs. It was time, because she couldn’t let the thought alone. “Ren?”

“Mmm?”

“What happened? When…while you were gone?”

He’d expected this question eventually. Makoto was the sort of person who needed to know things, even when they hurt her to know them, so of course she would ask. He hadn’t expected how much the question would feel like a punch to the gut. He blinked hard, the tears suddenly threatening again. He was safe. He was home. He was with Makoto, the love of his life, and she would never let him be hurt. But damn if it didn’t feel like he was back in that interrogation room, unable to so much as curl into a fetal position to protect his stomach.

“Ren?” He startled almost violently as she touched his hair, flinching away from her touch. She drew back, giving him space, and he covered his face with both hands as he exhaled slowly.

“I…” He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” she said softly. “You’ve been through a lot. I’m sorry, for bringing it up like that.”

Ren shook his head, turning into her and tucking his face into her neck. “I knew you’d ask,” he said softly. “Sooner or later. I…it’s something I appreciate about you. Knowing you want to help, even if knowing will hurt you.” He rested a hand on her side, breathing slowly. “But this will hurt you. A lot. It’s okay if you don’t want to know, I promise.”

Makoto shook her head, wrapping her arm gently around his shoulders. “It hurt you,” she said softly. “I don’t want you to hurt alone, Ren.”

Ren took a moment to collect his thoughts, breathing through the shocking pain the memories stirred up. Then, his voice low and carefully controlled, he told her everything he could remember. There were gaps in his memory, but most of those were when he was with Sae. He remembered everything with the police officers and the forced confession with brutal clarity.

Makoto listened to the quiet monologue with growing horror and tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t know this side of the police force. She’d never heard something this brutal, not from her father or her sister. Of course, they probably wouldn’t tell her, preferring to keep her in the dark to preserve her innocence. As he got to the part where the police officer stood on his head, grinding Ren’s temple into the concrete, Makoto couldn’t help herself. She started shaking, her eyes spilling over as she tried to keep from sobbing.

“Hey,” Ren said softly, lifting his head and looking at her. His eyes were filled with tears as well, turning them into wavering pools of charcoal pain. But at that moment, he was solely focused on her as he lifted his hand to touch her cheek and smooth back a strand of hair. “I made it through. I’m here, with you. I’m safe.”

“You should have never been anything but safe,” Makoto whispered, her voice shaking and catching. “Even if…even if you were responsible for deaths. Even if you were the worst murderer in the world. That should have never, never happened to you. That’s not…not justice.”

“No,” Ren agreed, catching one of her tears with his thumb and stroking it away with infinite tenderness. “It was vengeance. But they felt justified in it.”

“Are you…you making excuses for them?” Makoto asked, shocked at the very idea.

For just a second, Ren’s eyes glowed yellow, just as they did when he triggered his Third Eye. She got the definite impression, though, that this was more like him controlling his rage. The same rage that gave him the strength to corral his Personas, actually. “Never,” he said, and she could hear the tightly controlled rage underlining that word. “When we get this settled, we’re going to use everything we have to take them down. I loathe them.”

Somehow, his rage didn’t frighten her. If anything, it reassured her. She knew his rage, had seen it many times on the field of battle, and it always meant that they would win through the fight. No matter the odds. She nodded, leaning into his hand. “Tell me the rest.”

He did, and she couldn’t keep the tears back as he told her about being hurt, threatened, and forced to sign a confession. “And then I was left alone in the room we prepared, until Niijima-san came in,” he finished quietly.

“How…” She had to clear her throat before she could continue. “How much did you tell her?”

Ren coughed, and she swore she saw a blush crawl across his face. “It’s all in bits and pieces…” he hedged.

“Ballpark idea, then.” Something about this embarrassed him, and now she was dying to know.

“Almost everything,” Ren mumbled. “Everything I could remember about me, about us, since I came to Tokyo.”

Makoto whistled softly, impressed. “In a single day? I’m amazed you can still talk.”

If anything, his blush deepened. “It was a strong truth serum,” he said. “I’m pretty sure she knows absolutely everything about everyone I’ve made friends with, the techniques I use for making thieves tools, and how often I’ve made coffee. Details I didn’t remember I remembered until they came spilling out.”

“No wonder you couldn’t walk when you got home,” Makoto murmured, running her fingers into his hair. He relaxed almost instantly, tucking his head against her, and she smiled as she stroked his hair. This was his ‘off’ switch, and something she exploited mercilessly when he was running on fumes and needed to rest. Sometimes, she could almost swear she heard him purring. Really, he was just an oversized cat, when the chips were down. “Thank you for telling me,” she added, her voice soft and warm. “About everything. That can’t have been easy to remember.”

Ren closed his eyes, tears escaping him and falling onto her skin. “It wasn’t,” he admitted. “But…I feel a little better. For having said it all. So thank you, for listening.”

“Of course. Of course, Ren. Any time.” She scritched her nails gently along his scalp, drawing an almost-purr noise from him. “We’re partners. Not just in the Phantom Thieves’ work, but in life. You’re not doing this alone anymore.”

“That’s taking some adjustment,” Ren admitted, his voice low and rumbly. “I’ve always been alone. It’s…it’s a nice change. To have a family.” He looked up at her, his eyes soft. “To have a partner.” He lightly kissed her lips and smiled.

“You’ll have plenty of time to get used to it,” Makoto said, chasing his lips to return the kiss. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Ren chuckled softly, cuddling into her and closing his eyes. “Good,” he murmured. “It’d be like losing my right arm, at this point.”

“Such a sweet talker,” Makoto teased.

“Always and ever.”

“You should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

Ren sighed dramatically, but she could feel him relaxing into her. “S’pose you’re right,” he yawned.

Despite his pretend-resistance, he was unconscious moments later, snoring softly into her neck. She’d never been much of a touchy-feely sort of person before meeting him, but somehow…somehow, it felt exactly right to cuddle him, to touch him casually, to check in with him with a glance and a smile. God, she’d turned into a softy romantic when she wasn’t looking. Smiling, she kissed Ren’s hair. Well, maybe that was all right, since she’d found someone she could be soft and romantic with.

Chapter Text

"You want to what?" Tae Takemi stared at her favorite human guinea pig in astonishment, positive he'd finally lost his curly-headed little mind.

"I want to get some of your good medication," Ren repeated calmly, sitting in his usual spot on her examination bed. "So I can take it into the Metaverse, where it'll be amazingly effective."

"Leaving aside the magic world where dreams come true..."

"You're not entirely wrong, there," Ren murmured, wrinkling his nose.

"...how in the name of God are you going to get there? You barely made it here, and that was with you leaning on Niijima-san."

Ren glanced at his girlfriend, who was sitting in a chair by the door. "I'll have to keep leaning on her," he said simply. "We'll take it in short bursts, and rest a lot. That's probably the only way I'll make it there."

"You are absolutely out of your mind," Tae marveled, shaking her head. "I can't condone this."

"Takemi-san," Ren said, scooting to the edge of the bed. She didn't miss the grimace of pain as he moved, and she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows in silent challenge. "I know this isn't safe. But it is extremely necessary. I don't have time to rest and recover properly."

He shouldn't be able to convince her. She knew how badly he was hurt, and she very much doubted that even her best medication would work a miracle on cracked bones and bruised organs. But there was something about his eyes, framed by his battered glasses, that called to her. Sure, he was only sixteen, but he'd fixed her problems and opened the way for her to finally save Miwa-chan. If absolutely nothing else, she owed him for that. Besides any of that, he had a certain sort of power in his eyes, a confidence that spoke of maturity far beyond his years. She'd seen him cry, sure, but she had a feeling that this mysterious kid had depths beyond anything she could plumb.

Tae glanced at Niijima-san again, sighing. At least that teenager was understandable. "You sure you're okay with this?" she asked.

Niijima-san shrugged a little, a wry smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "Have you ever tried talking him out of something when he has his mind set?"

"Hey!" Ren exclaimed, pretending to pout. "I'm sitting right here!"

"Of course you are, dear," his girlfriend replied as her smile grew. "We'd never talk about you behind your back."

Ren rolled his eyes as Tae stifled a laugh, but he didn't argue with them. Smart kid. Tae sighed as she swiveled her chair. "Fine," she said at last. "I'll give you the best I have, on the house."

One of Ren's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "If..." he prompted.

Hah. Very smart kid. "You let me take x-rays and an ultrasound."

The second eyebrow vanished into the shaggy mop of hair, and Ren cleared his throat. "The x-rays I understand, but an ultrasound?"

"I want to see if there's damage to your organs," Tae said quietly. "Those bruises are pretty bad, and I'm nervous about them. Do you have any other symptoms you want to tell me about?"

If she'd blinked, she would have missed the alarmed look Ren shot Niijima-san. Fortunately, she didn't blink, and she stared hard at the kid. "Spill."

"Some dizziness and nausea," Ren mumbled, looking down at his bruised wrists.

"Fuck, are you serious?" Tae kicked the edge of her desk in annoyance. "Why the hell didn't you say?"

"Because of this very reaction," Ren sighed. "My point still remains."

"You probably have a concussion, and you want to..." Tae blew out a breath, forcing herself to calm down. "Okay. All right. Shirt and trousers off, and let's have a look at everything."

"You know how lucky we are she let you leave?" Morgana asked, resting his chin on Makoto's shoulder as the three of them made their slow way out of the subway and toward the entrance they used.

"Forget whether she let you leave, I almost didn't," Makoto fumed. "Three broken ribs and five cracked ones!"

"At least she didn't find any organ damage," Ren pointed out. He was dressed in casual clothes, his grey hoodie hood pulled up over his distinctive curly hair. Makoto thought he looked cute, especially with his glasses poking out from under the hood. More to the point, he looked like any other teenager walking through the city.

They did get some frowns as they made their slow and painful way to the corner where they usually entered the Metaverse. Ren was not doing well. The broken – broken, God damn it! – bones were only part of it. His muscles had locked up, making him limp painfully and wince every time he shifted position.

"Yes, I know. I'm such an old man," Ren said lightly, catching her eye when she glanced sidelong at him again.

"That wasn't at all what I was thinking," Makoto sighed, shifting her grip on his waist carefully. "C'mon, we're almost there."

"Thank any god listening," Morgana piped up. He was riding in Ren's bag, but Makoto was carrying it this time. There was no way she was going to let Ren carry it, not when the weight would hurt his shoulder.

As they walked up a small flight of stairs, Ren's toe caught the edge of a step, and he almost went sprawling. He yelped in pain as he caught himself between Makoto's solid arm and the wall, the sudden jarring force jolting everything inside him. "Ow..." he managed, his voice tight with pain. "Morgana?"

"Yeah, Joker?"

"Is anyone looking?"

Morgana popped up onto Makoto's shoulder and looked around, his ears and tail alert. "Nope!"

"Oh good." Leaning heavily on the wall, Ren took his phone out of his pocket and activated the MetaNav app. Makoto almost protested – they weren't out of sight of the normal people walking around – but held her tongue as they slipped over into the Metaverse. Ren needed to stop hurting, and this was the best way to do it.

As soon as the shift finished, Ren slid down the wall and sat on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of himself. He looked rather like a toddler pitching a tantrum, which was a hilarious juxtaposition with his Phantom Thief outfit. Makoto stifled a laugh as she realized he was sitting on his bunched-up coat.

"How are you feeling?" Morgana asked, hopping down from Makoto's shoulder and shaking himself out.

"Like seven shades of pain, poured onto a single canvas," Ren said, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. He did feel a little better in the Metaverse, it must be said. Something about the change in the air revived him a bit, and he could feel the Personas stirring under his skin.

"Hey! Prisoner!" He'd been expecting that. Ren half-smiled as he turned his head to look at Caroline. "Don't just sit around there smiling like a moron! Take your medication!"

"I always knew you cared," Ren mumbled, taking the small bottle out of his pocket with a grimace.

"Don't twist my words!" Caroline stomped her foot in a huff. "You're useless to me when you're flopped around like a baby!"

"Mmm." Ren opened the bottle and made a face at the smell. He always hated the way it smelled and tasted, which was part of the reason he avoided using the good medications unless absolutely necessary.

"Bottoms up," Morgana said cheerfully, nudging Ren's boot. They’d discussed the idea of either Morgana or Makoto using their healing abilities to heal Ren directly and avoid dealing with the medication at all, and decided against it. Using their skills in the Metaverse always came with the possibility that someone would sense the ripples of power and take interest. The chance was low, but they were already taking a lot of risks just being out in public. Akechi knew the Thieves trained in Mementos, after all. Sending ripples of power out where he might see them seemed like a bad idea.

"Pushy cat," Ren grumbled, but he put the bottle to his lips and tipped it up, dumping the liquid into his mouth. He gagged, but forced himself to drink the medication. "Oh God, that's vile," he gasped when he could finally breathe again.

"Always is," Makoto agreed, making a face at the remembered taste. "Not as bad as the revival medications, though. I always heard smelling salts were bad, but I'm sure they can't hold a candle to those medications."

"Do you think the doctor is punishing people for being sick?" Morgana asked, sitting on the ground next to Ren's foot. "By making the medications taste awful?"

"Sounds like her," Ren joked.

"How are you feeling?" Makoto asked, crouching next to him.

Ren took a moment to take stock of himself, looking up at the ceiling as he pressed a hand against his side. He'd discovered, shortly after first coming into Mementos, that the place felt like a video game. He could see health bars over everyone's head, including his own, that indicated how many bruises and other types of damage everyone had taken. It was weird to see something like that in real life, but he thought it had something to do with perception.

All of the Phantom Thieves played video games in some capacity. Some were far more serious about their hobby than others; Futaba and Makoto were pretty serious about their gaming when they played, for example (as Ren had learned when he challenged Makoto to a game as part of a date). Sometimes, the Thieves discussed missions in terms of video game quests. Since Mementos was built on cognition, maybe it made sense that they saw it as a video game world, complete with health and stamina bars. The whole concept was all a little meta for Ren, but this was the Metaverse, after all.

Right at the moment, his health bar was hovering at about half full, and he shivered. Just how low had it been before he drank the medication?

"Almost completely gone," Morgana said, displaying that weird trait where he could almost read Ren's mind. "You were on just a few percent left."

"Wonder if real-world damage translates to more damage in the Metaverse," Ren theorized, turning the idea over and over in his head. "Because everything is so much more real here, and I've felt so awful since coming back."

"Maybe," Morgana agreed. "There's just so much we still don't know."

"But we do know what that means," Makoto said, nodding up at the floating health bar.

"For real?" Ren groused, very unhappy about this turn of events.

Makoto just handed him another bottle of the medicine and crossed her arms. Her eyes, half-hidden by the mask, still managed to convey how deadly serious she was.

"Yes, dear," Ren sighed, opening the bottle. He did feel a lot better after the last one. He just wasn't sure the taste was worth it. Maybe the second dose would taste better?

Spoiler alert: it didn't. If anything, it tasted worse, somehow, and Ren had to swallow repeatedly to get it down his throat as his eyes welled up in protest. "Kill her," he wheezed when he managed to get it down. "Gonna kill her."

"You're not going to kill the doctor," Makoto said, shaking her head as she opened a water bottle and handed it to Ren. "Drink; you'll feel better."

Ren gulped some water down, spilling some of it down his front and bumping the mouth of the bottle with his mask. But it did help take some of the nasty taste out of his mouth, and he exhaled in relief as he poked himself in the worst spots. He smiled, a hint of the old cockiness gleaming through as he confirmed it.

"Well?" Makoto asked, seeing that familiar, reassuring Joker grin.

Ren leaned back a little further on the wall, then vaulted to his feet, landing with his usual grace and precision. Rolling forward onto the toes of his boots, he balanced for a second before tucking into a roll and coming back up with a flourish. Morgana cheered, and Makoto laughed in relief. "I'd say I'm back to full capacity," Ren said, bowing deeply to his teammates.

"Show-off," Makoto teased affectionately, walking over to him.

"Every day, my darling Queen," Ren agreed with his characteristic Joker grin. He took her hand and bowed deeply over it, before coming up and kissing her soundly on the lips. They kept the PDA on the down low when they were around the rest of their teammates for the sake of the team dynamic, but they were alone with Morgana at the moment. And Morgana had been kicked out of Ren's room overnight often enough to know how intimate their relationship was, so he wasn't going to learn anything new about them kissing in front of him.

Makoto's laugh turned into a sigh of relief and delight as she slid her hands into his hair and kissed him back fiercely. She hadn't realized how long she'd been holding tension and fear in her body until it all drained away in a second, leaving her lightheaded and giddy. She nipped his lower lip, and he gasped into her mouth, surprised by the sudden little pain.

"Sorry," Makoto whispered, only drawing far enough away to make sure he could hear her apology.

"No apology needed," Ren replied softly, and she realized his pupils were enormous. "I liked that."

"Okay, you two lovebirds," Morgana snorted. "This isn't the place to make out like horny teenagers!"

"But we are horny teenagers," Ren teased, wrapping his arm low around Makoto's waist. She felt the shift in his muscles in time to go with him as he guided her into a dancer's dip, kissing her deeply again. Then he drew away, leaving a smaller kiss on her lips as a sort of punctuation to the thought. "But I suppose you're right. We should head back, get everyone else caught up."

Ah, there he was. Ren had been so lost in pain and emotion, he hadn't been able to be fully Joker since coming back. Makoto smiled as he helped her upright, pleased to see her boyfriend back to himself again. "Welcome back to the game, Joker," she said softly.

"It's good to be back," Ren murmured.

The trip back to Yongen-Jaya passed without incident. Once they were back in Ren's neighborhood, he stopped at a corner. "You two go ahead," he said. "I'm going to check in with Takemi-san and get a clean bill of health. Sojiro might actually kill me if I try to go out on missions without one."

"And we can't risk that, not when you just finished healing," Makoto agreed. "I'll get everyone gathered, and we'll talk about our next step."

"Thank you," he said with a nod. He squeezed her hand, winked at her, and headed off for the clinic.

"That guy would whistle through hell itself," Morgana remarked as Makoto made her way back to LeBlanc.

"I think he'd like for us to think that's the case," Makoto said thoughtfully. "But that seems like another of his masks."

"You think?"

"Mmm. Easier to keep everyone else calm if they don't see how freaked out he is." Makoto shrugged. "Just a theory, really. He hasn't said anything like that to me."

"It makes sense, though." Morgana sighed. "I'm just glad the Metaverse thing worked. We'd be in a world of pain if it didn't."

"You can say that again," Makoto sighed as she pushed the door open and listened to the bell jingle overhead.

Boss was in his usual place behind the counter, and he shot her a concerned look. "Where's the kid?"

"Getting a clean bill of health from the doctor," Makoto said, putting Ren's bag down on a chair and rolling her shoulder. "You're going on a diet, Morgana. I have no idea how Ren hauls you around all the time."

Morgana just yowled at her, and she and Boss both laughed as Makoto sat at the counter. "Want some coffee while we wait?" Boss asked, already starting the process of making her favorite brew.

"Please," Makoto said, scrubbing her hands over her face wearily. As Boss made her coffee, she sent the text out.

M: Time to meet at the hideout.

F: Already on my way over.

R: Yeah, finally! I've been on pins and needles all goddamn day, what took so long?

Y: I imagine he needed some time to rest after all of the excitement.

H: Is there anything we can bring over?

A: That's a good idea! Why don't we bring some food over; make a party of it?

Makoto considered for a moment, deciding whether or not that would be wise. But if Ren was really back to normal, he would probably be starving as soon as he got back.

M: Sure, why not? Not every day we get to celebrate someone coming back from the dead.

The bell jingled, and Makoto glanced up sharply. She relaxed when she saw Futaba, offering the other girl a smile.

"I didn't want to ask in the chat," Futaba said, pulling up a chair beside Makoto and leaning close conspiratorially, "but how is he doing? Did the Metaverse thing work?"

"How did you...?"

"Oracle knows all, lady. Bugged the place, remember?" Futaba looked smug for a second before the careless joy fell away, and her haunted eyes reminded Makoto that she'd actually seen everything happen to Ren in real time. "Is he okay?" she asked, and her voice cracked a little.

Makoto reached out, covering Futaba's hand with hers. "He's okay," she said softly. "The Metaverse thing worked. Better than expected, actually. The doctor's checking him now, making sure everything is good."

"He's all right?" Boss asked, glancing up from his work with a puzzled little frown. "After how he looked last night?"

"The Metaverse is a weird place," Futaba said sagely as she perked up. "He's good now. That's all that really matters."

"An explanation of everything would be nice at some point," Boss grumbled, but his comment was lost as Ryuji and Yusuke came jangling and arguing through the door.

"I'm telling ya, those old snots got no idea what they're talkin' about," Ryuji said, dropping a small bag on a back table. "It's a classic work!"

"Splatterhouse horror films very rarely, if ever, earn the 'classic' descriptor," Yusuke said, sniffing at the very idea.

Shaking his head at these kids, Sojiro made his way around the counter to flip the sign. Didn't want to risk someone coming in and finding the Phantom Thieves in his cafe. "Anyone for coffee?"

"Yeeeah, no thanks," Ryuji said, making a face. "Though if you're makin' that drink Futaba likes, I'd love one of those."

"Noted. Yusuke?"

"Yes, please." The tall artist settled into a booth behind the girls and opened his sketch pad. One page was covered entirely with doodles of various monstrous creatures, and Sojiro eyed it with trepidation.

"Working on your Shadow series, Inari?" Futaba asked, spinning around in her chair to straddle it so she could watch him.

"Mmm," Yusuke hummed. "That such creatures could be born from the human psyche and imagination is astonishing to me. I study them to understand the layers of human emotion."

Futaba kicked her heels for a moment before giggling. "Some of them are just too ridiculous. The Shadows. I mean, who thought a bundle of snakes was a good idea?"

"Someone who was really scared of snakes?" Ryuji suggested.

Haru and Ann came in then, carrying large bags from the nearby store. "We thought it would be safer to get food close by," Ann explained when Makoto raised an eyebrow. "Just in case anyone is watching us."

That put a momentary damper on the party mood, and all of the Phantom Thieves went quiet. "Do you think someone might be?" Ryuji asked.

"No one is at the moment," Futaba said. "I've been monitoring the security cameras around here and looping footage any time we’re visible on the cameras, just to make sure no one sees any two of us together at any time."

"But it would be foolish to think Akechi and his shadow boss have forgotten about the rest of us, just because they believe Joker is dead," Makoto added, stepping naturally into the role of secondary leader. "So caution must be our watch word. Don't behave out of the ordinary."

"Akechi knows all of us, though," Haru said with a frown. "Would it be unrealistic to keep from showing grief? Since our friend is supposedly dead?"

"I think that should be fine, as long as it doesn't become a kabuki production." Makoto smiled as the others chuckled at her joke. "Why don't we go upstairs and get everything set up in Ren's room?"

Everyone agreed with that idea, and started packing everything up the stairs. Makoto blew out a breath, fidgeting with the hem of her vest before turning to Boss. "My sister should be here soon," she said. "Would you mind letting me know when she gets here?"

"Sure," Boss nodded. Then he looked over his glasses at her, a gesture Makoto recognized as something Ren tended to do. "You sure you're all right? You've kinda had to deal with a lot of sh...er, stuff. With Ren and everything."

Makoto smiled wryly. "It's been a lot," she agreed. "But I'm managing."

"You sure?"

God, she missed her father. He had been so much like Sojiro; gruff and a bit standoffish, but very caring and concerned about his kids. Makoto swallowed and blinked back sudden, surprising tears. "I am, because I have to be," she said softly.

Boss nodded, handing her a cup of coffee. "If you ever need to talk, I'm usually around here. Can't promise I'll understand everything you're talking about, but I can listen."

Makoto wrapped both hands around the hot ceramic mug, breathing in the bittersweet smell. "Thank you," she said softly. "I might take you up on that."

"I'll be around if you do," Boss nodded, putting the rest of the drinks on a small tray and coming out from behind the counter. "C'mon, let's get the hoard caffeinated, see what sort of mischief they get up to."

That got a shaky laugh out of her, and Makoto nodded as she led the way up into Ren's room.

The next ten or fifteen minutes passed swiftly as the small crowd put together a "welcome home" dinner on Ren's table. Yusuke and Makoto put together a hot pot (with the udon Yusuke insisted had to follow the meal), while the others set up the eating arrangements.

Then the bell jangled, and everyone froze in place, barely daring to breathe. It could be Sae, or Ren...or it could be someone else like Akechi.

Makoto held her breath as she listened. Then she relaxed, recognizing her sister's voice. "It's okay," she told the others. "It's my sister."

Everyone else relaxed as well, and when Boss called for them to come down, they came down like a troop of elephants. Makoto caught and held her sister's eyes, trying to see how she was doing. Sis looked exhausted, as if she hadn't been sleeping much the last day or so. That seemed to be an epidemic lately.

Boss excused himself to go find Ren – he had been at the doctor's longer than anyone expected – and the little group turned inward to focus on building relations with Sae. Makoto wondered how that was for everyone else. They hadn't really had a relationship with her sister before they took on her Shadow. At least she had a point of comparison before Sis twisted her desires into a parody of justice.

Well, at least Sae was willing to apologize for making trouble for Futaba. That was a pretty good sign that the change of heart had actually worked, and there was no sign of a mental shutdown. Makoto let out a small sigh of relief as she studied her hands.

Ren walked out of the clinic and stretched a bit. Takemi hadn't believed her own eyes, or the first three sets of x-rays. She kept exclaiming about the treatments not being some kind of damn miracle, something must be haywire in her machines.

The fourth time was the charm, though, and Takemi finally let him go after she extracted a promise from him that he'd come back and tell her everything he could about what he'd done to get those results.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, the teenager made his way back to LeBlanc, a little slower than he usually went. He hadn't seen everyone since Sae's Palace, and he felt like he'd lived a lifetime since then. To be perfectly honest, he was a bit afraid that he'd find himself out of place with them, like he had with his last group of friends the last time he was arrested.

He kicked a small stone, watching it bounce down the road in front of him. He knew better than that, didn't he? They'd never given him reason to think they'd rabbit off now that he'd been through a special sort of hell. Still. Trust wasn't easy for him.

"Dragging your feet, kid?" Ren looked up, surprised into a smile by Sojiro's comment. The older man smiled back at him, tipping his hat down a little. "Everyone's waiting for the man of the hour. And I swear I heard something about food."

"I guess I am a bit hungry," Ren said, his shoulders relaxing a little. He walked up to Sojiro, and Boss turned to match steps with him as they walked back to LeBlanc.

"If you aren't, I'm sure Yusuke will eat your share," Sojiro commented with a grin. "Never met a kid who could eat that much before."

"You've never seen Ann really wolf down her food, then," Ren replied. "Especially desserts."

Sojiro laughed at that, shaking his head. "Nice, having a pack of teenagers around." He nudged Ren's shoulder with his fist. "You have some great friends."

"I'm very lucky in my friends," Ren agreed with a smile.

"Hey," Sojiro said, suddenly serious as they stopped outside the door. "They're lucky to have you, too."

Ren blinked at the older man, adjusting his glasses nervously as he started to demure. But Sojiro held up a hand, cutting him off. "I know your old pack of friends were little shits. Left you behind, with the trial and charges and all. Your parents aren't a whole lot better." Sojiro gripped Ren's shoulders gently in both hands, holding his eyes. "But those kids in there would walk through fire for you, if you asked. They're true friends."

The last couple days had been pretty emotional for Ren, and it seemed like that trend was continuing. He cleared his throat and looked down, overwhelmed with emotion for a moment. "I can only hope to be worthy of my friends," he said quietly. "And my sister and...and my dad." He looked up at Sojiro, just in time to see delighted shock cross his face. "I guess it's true that chosen family is so much more important than an accident of birth," he added quietly, smiling at Sojiro.

"Damn, now you're going to make me cry," Sojiro said, squeezing Ren's shoulders before releasing him. "Get in there and let them know you're not dead, yeah?"

"Sure, Dad," Ren said with a grin.

Sojiro snorted and opened the door. "Hey, everyone, look who's here!" he called as Ren came in after him.

Everyone turned to look at Ren, and the teenaged leader of the Phantom Thieves almost turned tail and ran at the sudden attention. Then Ryuji let out a war whoop of joy and raced over to Ren, followed by the rest of the Thieves, and Ren realized that this was it. This was the reason he'd pushed through the pain of torture and the questions, and everything else he'd been through the last couple days. These guys, they were the reason. They'd already been through hell together, and they'd take a deeper dive as soon as they knew what was going on, and they were utterly devoted to each other.

He laughed out loud as he caught Ryuji and gave the other teenager a bear hug. They passed Ren from Thief to Thief, everyone wanting a chance to give him a hug. Makoto was last, and everyone let out a massive "awwww" when she went up on her toes to kiss him. Resting his hands on her hips, Ren returned the tender kiss, blushing at the attention but enjoying it at the same time.

He'd die for this group. He knew that without question: he would do anything at all in his power to keep them safe and whole. And as he looked around at all of their delighted faces, he suddenly had a shiver of premonition. 'Please,' he thought, directing the thought at any god listening, 'let us make it through.'

Chapter Text

Sitting back in his desk chair, Ren clasped his hands in his lap and closed his eyes with a sigh. While the trip to the Metaverse had revitalized and healed him, he'd been through a hell of an experience, and he was tired.

He listened to the rise and fall of the voices around him, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips as the sounds ebbed and flowed around him. It reminded him of the sea from his family trips as a boy, and how the power of it had captivated him since he was a small boy.

"...Ren?" Someone was talking to him. Ren peeled his eyelids open and blinked a couple times, sitting up. Futaba was perched in her usual place on the couch, her knees drawn up to her chest as she balanced on the balls of her feet.

"I'm awake," Ren said, stretching his arms up over his head and yawning.

"You were mostly asleep, and you know it." Futaba tossed a wadded-up napkin at him, smiling. Then she paused, frowning. "So, I'm not a medical person or anything. But the Metaverse trip healed you, right?"

"Yep. I could go trawl Mementos tomorrow, and be perfectly fine."

Several of the Thieves immediately piped up with some variation of "Don't you dare", with Ryuji's variant being the most colorful. "Seriously, I'll effin' sit on you if I have to," the blond threatened.

"All right, all right, calm down," Ren said with a chuckle, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm not going to, but I could. That's the point."

"So how come your wrists are still bruised?" Futaba asked.

Of course she'd noticed that. Ren grimaced, self-consciously pulling his sleeves down to cover his wrists. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Wait, they are?" Ryuji leaned to look, almost toppling out of his chair.

It occurred to Ren then that his friends had no idea exactly what had happened. Makoto knew, because he had told her, and Futaba knew, because hacker-genius-girl had watched everything. He knew without being told that she had watched the whole thing; the ghosts in her eyes when she glanced at him told the story.

Blowing out a breath, the leader of the Phantom Thieves rolled up his sleeves, holding his wrists out so his friends could see. "They don't hurt," he said over the collective gasp. "I don't know why they're still bruised, when everything else is healed up."

"What exactly happened?" Haru asked, her soft voice laced with horror. "I mean, of course you don't have to say if..."

Ren shook his head slightly. "Futaba?"

"Mmm?" the redheaded hacker perked up.

"Do you have your laptop with you?"

Futaba snorted derisively, grabbing her messenger bag and plopping it on the table. "Duh."

"Okay." Ren took a second to breathe. "Do you have that video on your laptop?"

Futaba stared at him, the light in her eyes dimming. "Um, um, yes," she stammered.

"Could you pull it up and show it to them? You don't have to stay, but..."

"No, it's..." Futaba bit her lip and nodded, as if making a hard decision. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ren asked softly. "We can go for a walk. I don't need to see it, I lived it."

Futaba nodded as she opened her laptop and set it up in front of the small television Ren used for films and video games. She pulled up the video before shoving her feet into her shoes and making a break for the stairs.

"Text when it's done," Ren said, pocketing his phone and getting up. "Makoto?"

His girlfriend was pale as a sheet as she got up as well. "My imagination is good enough to fill in the blanks," she said a little stiffly. She grabbed Ren's hand as soon as she could reach him, holding on tightly enough to make the little bones creak in protest. "Let's...let's go for a walk."

Futaba was already outside by the time they got there, and Ren wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"I just couldn't, I couldn't..." Futaba buried her face in his shoulder, clinging to his jacket.

"Shh, shh," Ren murmured, holding her and stroking her back. "I know. I'm not in any hurry to re-live that, myself." The memories were crowding at his brain, and he had to clamp his teeth to keep them at bay.

Futaba looked up at him, her face pale in the moonlight. "C'mon," she said, wrapping both of her hands around his free hand and pulling him along. He had to trot to keep up, and Makoto followed them with a strained chuckle. They were all a little on edge at the moment.

It was late enough that, on a normal night, Morgana would be yowling at him to go to bed already. But it was an unusual night, to say the least, and Futaba was on a mission.

She led Ren and Makoto to a building right on the outskirts of Yongen-Jaya and jumped up, grabbing the fire escape ladder and pulling it down.

"You know it's illegal to do that, right?" Makoto asked as Futaba began climbing the ladder.

"No one lives in this building, and the shops have been closed for hours," Futaba replied from the first landing. "C'mon!"

Ren exchanged an amused look with Makoto before bowing and gesturing at the ladder. "After you."

"You just want to look up my skirt," Makoto snorted, but she started climbing anyway.

Ren waited until she was on her way up the second ladder before climbing after the girls. He was definitely curious about all of this; what was Futaba planning to show them?

They climbed three sets of ladders before Futaba pulled them into a little alcove. Yongen-Jaya wasn't in the best shape, financially speaking, and some of the buildings had fallen into disrepair. This one was missing a wall in the upper corner, and as his eyes adjusted to the low light, Ren realized Futaba had turned it into a little hidey-hole. She'd laid out a carpet, probably scavenged from somewhere, and set up a corner of beanbag chairs. Futaba tugged the two older teenagers over to the comfy corner, as she called it, and pulled the sheet off of something standing next to it.

Ren's eyebrows shot straight up when he realized what he was looking at. "A telescope?" he asked.

"This is my stargazing spot," Futaba said proudly. "I set it up right after my Palace. Sojiro says it's good for me to go outside, and this appeals to me, so here we are!"

"That's a really nice telescope, too," Ren said, helping Futaba haul it over to the opening in the wall. "How..."

"Were you about to ask the tech genius how she made enough money to afford something like this?" Futaba asked with a wicked grin.

"...point," Ren conceded with a smile. "So what are we looking at tonight?"

They spent an hour taking turns at the telescope and carefully not talking about what the others were seeing. Makoto knew a surprising number of constellations, and Ren took the chance in the darkness to stand behind his girlfriend and wrap his arms around her waist as he listened to her talk about the stories behind the patterns.

They were looking up at Taurus as Makoto told the story of the great bull that ruled over her birthday in Western astrology when all of their phones chimed in unison. Futaba hauled hers out and read the message. "They're ready for us now," she announced, shoving her phone back in her pocket. "C'mon, help me put this giant thing back."

Makoto helped her this time, covering it up carefully. "This is a really nice spot," she said. "Thank you for sharing it with us."

"Sure," Futaba said with a radiant smile, bouncing out to the fire escape. The time away seemed to have done her a world of good, restoring her mood and her spirits. As Ren followed her out, holding Makoto's hand, he hoped the others weren't too badly traumatized. 

~~~~~

That hope turned out to be in vain. As soon as Ren appeared at the top of the stairs, Haru and Ann grabbed him in a tearful hug. "I'm so sorry," Ann said, burying her face in his shoulder.

Ren really wasn't used to being fussed over like this. Usually, he was the one who focused on everyone else and helped them through their pain. But he could feel the love and care both girls were pouring out on him, and he couldn't help but tear up a bit as he hugged the girls back. "It's okay," he said, his voice cracking a little. "I'm okay now."

Haru pulled back, brushing his hair back from his face as she looked up at him. "Are you?" she asked, her voice soft and kind and utterly sad. "Are you really all right?"

He sometimes forgot just how insightful Haru was. She hid under the veneer of the sweet, slightly naive rich girl, and her stealth check was so good, it sometimes fooled him. He blinked, and a tear escaped, running down his cheek and onto her hand. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice cracking.

The Phantom Thieves converged on their leader, wrapping him up in a group hug. It should have been awkward, especially since Ren didn't do physical affection all that often. And yet...and yet. Somehow, it was exactly what he needed. He covered his face with a hand as he trembled, trying to keep from crying again. He was so tired of crying.

"It's okay, dude," Ryuji said softly, his hand tightening on Ren's shoulder. "Hell, I'd never stop crying if I were you. That shit looked awful."

"It..." Ren shivered, and Makoto's arm wrapped firmly around his waist, supporting him. He leaned into her a little, silently thanking her. "It was the worst thing I've ever been through in my life," he admitted, his voice low and cracking. "I didn't...I didn't know if I'd make it through, or..." He coughed, trying to bat the tears away (unsuccessfully). "Or what would be worth saving, if I did."

"You are not broken," Yusuke said, his hand resting on the nape of Ren's neck. "You are bruised and battered, and very likely exhausted. But you will heal, body and soul."

"And it's not like you have to do this alone," Futaba added, her arm wrapped around Ren's waist from the other side. "We're all here. We've all been hurt, and you helped us through our pain. Of course we'll help you."

"No matter what," Ann agreed, hugging him close for a moment. "You hear me? You don't get to hide behind the mask with us."

That would be so much easier. If he could retreat behind the calm, easy mask and pretend like nothing had ever happened, he would be able to skate through all of this as if he had never had broken ribs and a boot imprint on his thigh. "Everyone has masks," he mumbled. It was a lousy excuse, and he knew it as soon as he said it.

"Yeah," Morgana agreed as he wrapped himself around Ren's ankle. "Most people do. But we're the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. We expose what's under the polite masks everyone wears in society. That's our superpower."

One by one, the Thieves peeled away gently, guiding Ren back to his futon. Makoto was the last, and she sat next to him, her arm wrapped around his waist as she guided him to rest his head on her shoulder. The rest of the Thieves arranged themselves around him, grabbing the chairs and corners of the futon. Futaba, claiming the right of little sister, sat behind him leaning against his back. Silence settled over the room, broken only by the occasional little sniffle. The silence was a warm blanket around Ren, comforting him down to his core.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Makoto's shoulder, breathing in her strong presence as he gathered himself. Then: "I've always been alone."

Someone inhaled, probably about to say something, but a light thud stopped whoever it was, and Ren cleared his throat. "It was never a problem, back before I came here. I was the weird kid, always in my books and video games, and that was enough for me. I was so lonely, I didn't have a word for it."

"Like a fish doesn't have a word for water," Futaba mumbled, her voice resonating through his back. Ren nodded, reaching back and squeezing her knee. She knew. He knew how deeply she understood.

"You guys...you're so easy to be friends with. You don't force me into anything, and I can help you. I just...I don't always know how to ask for help, myself." He shrugged, laughing a little self-depreciatingly.

"How can we help?" Haru asked from somewhere off to his right. She was probably sitting on the sofa, if he had to guess. "We'd do pretty much anything for you, Ren."

Ren wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I don't know," he admitted. "I..." he cleared his throat. "Physically, I'm fine. Except for the bruises on my wrists, and I don't know why those are still there." Someone touched his wrist with light fingertips, and he startled instinctively before relaxing. Makoto. He'd know that touch anywhere.

"What about the rest?" Ann asked. "The mental stuff can be as deadly as physical." He knew she was thinking of Shiho, and his heart ached for her.

"I..." Ren coughed, trying to find the words. "It's...hard for me. To stay here, with you all. I close my eyes, and I'm back there. Dizzy and scared and hurt and..." His voice broke, and Makoto's arm tightened around his waist as Futaba turned and wrapped herself around him like a living blanket. Taking a deep breath, Ren opened his eyes and looked around the room, burning every face into his memory. "But you got me through. Thinking about all of you, and the mission, and everything we've already done...it kept me sane in there."

Ann was crying, Ren realized. He hadn't seen her cry since that awful day with Shiho. Her hands were tightly knotted in her lap, and she inhaled raggedly. Ren tried to offer her a comforting smile as he reached out and covered her hands. "It's done," he said softly. "It's over. I'm back with all of you, where I belong. And..." He sighed. "I'll probably have bad dreams for a while. Maybe a long while. But it will pass, because..." He took a moment, letting the truth of the words seep into his bones. "Because I'm not alone."

He wasn't alone. He hadn't been alone since meeting Ryuji, months ago, but it had taken a while for the truth to really settle into a fact. He had friends who were closer than blood, a family forged by bonds of shared pain and devotion. He smiled at them, at all of them, and watched their faces light up with the same knowledge he held most dear.

"We're in this together," Makoto said in his ear, and he looked up at her. She smiled at him, running her fingers through his hair. "We've always been in this together, my dear."

"Thank you," Ren said softly, leaning up and kissing her. 

~~~~~~

The Thieves parted ways shortly after that; most of them had to leave in time to catch the last trains. As they left, each and every one of them gave Ren a massive hug. As Makoto approached to give him a hug, Ren asked softly, "Stay?"

She smiled and nodded, sinking onto the futon as Ren finished saying goodbye to their friends. At last, even Futaba left, taking a stack of dishes down into the main cafe on her way out.

Morgana curled up on the sofa and yawned. "Am I being banished tonight, too?" he asked. He tried to hide it, but Makoto could hear an undertone of hurt in his voice.

Ren must have heard it, too, because he shook his head as he stripped his jacket off and hung it on a hook. "I don't plan on being too active tonight," he said, winking at Makoto. She blushed bright red as he added, "I think we could all do with a quiet night, honestly."

"You could say that again," Morgana groaned, stretching massively across the sofa with a sigh of relief. Then he hopped up. "Be right back," he called over his shoulder as he trotted down the stairs toward his food and water bowl. 

Chuckling, Ren glanced at Makoto. "Pretty sure he's giving us privacy for a moment," he said, gathering his sleep clothes and bringing them back to the bed. "I have an extra pair of sweats, if you like?"

"I would like," Makoto agreed, and she caught the clothes when he tossed them over to her. "All told, I think that went pretty well?"

Ren snorted as he stripped his shirt off and ruffled his hair absently. "They weren't as badly traumatized as I thought they might be. So that part went well."

"Which part didn't, do you think?" Makoto asked, removing her vest and folding it neatly on the desk.

"I'm so, so tired of crying," Ren mumbled, pulling his sleep shirt on before shucking his jeans and socks into a pile on the floor.

Makoto turned to look at him fully as she held her forgotten shirt in one hand. "Ren," she said softly. "You're not alone. You've never been alone, not since you met us."

"I know that."

"It's okay to cry in front of us. Especially while dealing with a truly horrible thing."

Ren sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed in his underpants. "Have I told you much about my family?"

"No," Makoto said, quickly changing into the borrowed clothes so she could sit next to him. "Just that they didn't think they could handle you after...well, everything with that horrible man."

"Mmm. Which says a lot about them, and how my relationship is with them, I'd say." Ren huffed out a breath before flopping on his side, resting his head in Makoto's lap in a blatant attempt to get her to pet his hair. Makoto snorted softly, but couldn't resist the temptation.

Ren purred softly for a moment before clearing his throat. "I don't remember much about my actual dad. He took off when I was eight. Old enough to have impressions and a few memories, but not a lot besides that."

Makoto paused for a moment, frowning. "I had no idea," she said softly, shaking her head at the foolishness of the absent father as she continued running her fingers through Ren's hair. "Was his name Amamiya?"

"Mm, yeah," Ren murmured, closing his eyes and settling more comfortably on her lap. "I kept it, even when my mom remarried when I was ten. My stepfather wanted to change it to his name, Kurusu, but I was old enough to want that memory of my dad, and I didn't want the stepmonster's family name, so I kept it."

"Is your stepfather that bad?"

"Every bit." Ren opened his eyes, and Makoto saw some of his cold rage in the lines around his mouth as he set his jaw. "Real fan of corporeal punishment. I learned very quickly to just not be around when he was angry."

"God," Makoto murmured, stroking a thumb over Ren's tight jaw muscle. He huffed out a breath and relaxed again, closing his eyes.

"Anyway. I got bullied in school a lot. For not having a father around, for being the weird kid with glasses and a stack of manga, for being good at school and liked by the teachers. And for a while, I was bullied particularly hard because I cried when they bullied me. Couldn't stop it for love or money; they'd get started on me, and there were the waterworks."

Makoto tried to imagine a smaller Ren, all big eyes and awkward limbs, getting bullied by bigger kids. She shook her head. "Kids are rotten."

"Hardly have to tell me twice," Ren agreed. "My stepfather, though, he took the crying as a personal insult. 'Of course they're bullying you, anyone would bully a crybaby!'" Ren's voice shifted deeper in what Makoto assumed was an imitation of his stepfather. He sighed, nuzzling into her hands. "I learned to associate crying with being weak and childish."

Makoto pursed her lips as she considered how best to phrase her thoughts. "I've told you my father was a police officer," she said at last.

Ren opened his eyes and looked up at her, resting a hand on her knee. "You have," he agreed, stroking her thigh with his thumb.

"Boss reminds me of him, a lot," Makoto said, sighing out a breath. "Gruff and tried to pretend he didn't feel things deeply, but always ready with a compliment and a smile when Sis and I got things right, and a shoulder to cry on when something went wrong. He never quite seemed completely comfortable with being a single father to two perfectionist girls," Ren snorted softly, and she jostled his head in warning, "but we never doubted how much he loved us. Not for a second."

"He sounds like an amazing man," Ren murmured. "I wish I could have met him."

"I wish you could have, too," Makoto agreed. "I think he would have liked you, a lot." He smiled at that, and she kissed his forehead. "And he cried," she added softly.

Ren looked up at her in utter surprise. "Really?"

"Not all the time, of course," Makoto said with a nod. "But yeah. Often enough that I knew it was a really bad day when Dad sat in his bedroom and cried." She ran her fingers into Ren's hair and made a gentle fist, holding his gaze on hers. "Would you say my dad, the police officer who was a man's man, was a crybaby?"

"No, of course not," Ren said, blinking up at her.

"People cry when things hurt them," Makoto said softly, releasing his hair and petting it down. "It doesn't make you weak, love. If anything, I think it makes you stronger." He made a face, and she shook her head. "I'm serious. If you didn't cry, that emotion wouldn't go away. You'd just channel it somewhere else, and that could get dangerous. I'd bet your stepfather felt sad sometimes, and didn't have a safe way to release his pain. So he took it out on other people."

Ren winced at that. "I never want to be like him," he mumbled.

"I know," Makoto agreed. "Be gentle with yourself. That's all I'm asking. Because I think you're right. You're probably going to have nightmares for a while. Maybe wake up crying. I need you to know that's normal. Dad had nightmares; he sometimes woke the whole house with a yell."

"I guess he would have seen some horrible things in his time as a cop," Ren said slowly, and she got the feeling he was unpacking the idea of being like her father. "Times when he was helpless, no matter how strong he was."

"Exactly." Makoto ran her nails gently over his scalp. "You saved us, Ren. You bought us time to figure out who Akechi's boss is, and how to take the whole thing down. We couldn't have done it without you. But it wasn't easy. You have scars." She rested her fingertips lightly on his wrist, touching the bruises. He flinched a little before relaxing into her. "It's okay that those scars hurt. I don't think any less of you."

Ren leaned up on his elbow, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm glad," he murmured. "It's hard not to think less of myself sometimes. But..." He kissed the bridge of her nose. "But. Your opinion of me matters, more than I can ever say. So I believe you, and I'm going to work on that."

"Thank you," Makoto murmured in reply, kissing his lips tenderly.

Someone cleared their throat close by, and she turned her head enough to see Morgana sitting at the top of the stairs. "Hate to break this up," he said apologetically. "But it is a school day tomorrow, for the one who isn't dead."

Ren groaned wholeheartedly. "What on earth am I going to do with myself all day?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," Makoto teased, picking up his forgotten sweats and dropping them in his lap. "Finish getting dressed so we can get some sleep."

"Yes, dear," he teased, getting up enough to step into his sweats before flopping back on the futon. He really did have a cat's ability to take up all of the available space; he didn't use furniture like normal people did. He flopped, he sprawled, and he lounged. Weirdly adorable, actually.

Laying down next to him, Makoto nudged him firmly until she had enough room to be comfortable. He laughed and rolled over, turning her into the little spoon as he pulled the blanket over them. Morgana made himself comfortable by the pillow, and Makoto sighed out a relaxing breath as she settled in for sleep.

"Hey," Ren murmured in her ear.

"Mmm?"

"Thanks. For telling me about your dad. That...helped. A lot."

Makoto smiled, resting a hand on his side and stroking it lightly. "I'm glad," she murmured back. "Thanks for telling me about yours."

"It's nice to have someone else know. Someone who gives a rat's ass." Ren kissed the soft spot below her ear, sending a delightful shiver through her body. "Sleep well, Mako."

"You too, Ren." She was already so sleepy, especially after the broken sleep the night before. Yawning, she snuggled deeper into him and closed her eyes, smiling as she began sinking into sleep.

Ren stayed awake a little longer, watching her sleep in the moonlight. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve her love, but he hoped he could keep doing it the rest of their lives. At last, pure exhaustion pulled his eyelids shut, and he sighed out a breath as he fell asleep, content in the knowledge that he was safe.