Chapter Text
Ann says, “You must be fine if you’re joking around like that.”
Yusuke says, “Surely he was acting quite cocky by himself in that quiet chamber.”
And Ren says really nothing at all.
What he does is fidget with his sleeves, tugging them down as far as they’ll go. Picks some cat hair off his uniform, and it’s sort of funny how it stuck to him all throughout the arrest and the rematerialization into the real world and the interrogation. Sort of funny, sort of annoying.
Yusuke says, “It’s a shame I didn’t have the opportunity to see that for myself.”
And Ren laughs. His rib throbs.
“I couldn’t see it either,” he says, brushing off his sleeve.
The fur really is everywhere. Sure, Morgana’s complex about being treated like a pet is fair enough, but if he would just let Ren brush him now and then, this wouldn’t be a problem.
Niijima’s asking him something.
“Don’t remember,” Ren says. “Drugs.”
A weird vibe spreads through the room. He should have smiled. They didn’t catch the joke.
The buttons on his cuff came undone at some point. He does them back up, then clasps his hands in his lap and waits for everyone to finish talking. They’ve been talking for so long his back is getting stiff. For over a day now, he’s been sitting on his ass, talking, listening to people talk, refusing to talk.
It’s nice, though, to hear their voices again. And to have Yusuke standing beside him, leaning against the back of the booth. It’s nice, too, when Sojiro places a cup of coffee before him. The ceramic scalds the tear in his lip, but the coffee fills his stomach and chases away the November chill.
Ryuji nudges Ren’s arm until he shuffles over and sits beside him. Yusuke pushes away and joins Ann at the bar.
They’re talking about Shido now. When they ask where Shido’s palace could be, Ren thinks of Yoshida, names the Diet Building, and doesn’t have it in him to be surprised like they are because all men in power are the same in the end, even ‘the Good Ones.’ There’s something inherently fucked up about wanting power. About thinking you deserve it.
Ren asks, “What about Akechi?”
In a convenient sign of growth, it’s Ryuji that shuts him down: “Just gotta hit the head.”
Petty grudges do no one any good. Sure, Akechi was the one to pull the trigger, but someone else is pulling the strings. The problem is bigger than stupid rivalries and tentative friendships. Just like Ren will never find the man that first called for his arrest and get direct justice like all his friends, he has to settle. Keep his eyes on the big picture.
“Ren?”
He looks up. Everyone else is putting on their coats, picking up their bags. Ann flips her hair out of her varsity jacket.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yeah, of course. Diet Building tomorrow.” Ren covers his yawning mouth. “I’ll be there.”
Ann stares at him, tilting her head and knitting her brow, and Ren chews the inside of his cheek. Yusuke stares, too. Ryuji is bickering with Futaba and Sojiro is talking to Niijima but Makoto’s watching, Haru’s watching while she scratches behind Morgana’s ears and he’s watching too, everyone is watching, everyone is looking for something he can’t give them.
“I’m exhausted,” Ren says, and who can argue? “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
That look stays on Ann’s face. Ren turns from it and gives his farewells with a simple wave over his shoulder. A few of them return it, their murmurs following him into the dark.
The stairs creak the way they always do. Third from the bottom, second from the top, and he leaves the light off. Whatever Kawakami has to say about dust, he always keeps the attic neat; there’s nothing to trip over. He knows the room like the back of his hand. Considering the bruises from the handcuffs, maybe even better.
He takes off his glasses. Peels off his shoes and lines them up neatly by the chair leg. One by one, he undoes his jacket buttons, then slides it from his shoulders and rests it over the back of the couch. Slips off his suspenders, unclips them from his pants, lays them across the seat. It’s cold without his jacket. There’s voices downstairs. Not everyone has left yet. He needs to hurry and get changed so he can bury himself under his warm blanket, it’s so cold.
He untucks his shirt. Stares at a sack of coffee beans on the shelf.
It’s going to hurt. When he lifts his arms, it’s going to hurt, but he can’t sleep in his uniform so he closes his eyes and pulls his shirt over his head and his rib splinters and tears into his lung and he can’t breathe it hurts hurtshurtshurtshurtshurtshurtshurtshurtshurtshurts–
“Ren?”
Yusuke’s voice.
Yusuke’s voice and Ren lowers his arm, eyes following the marks the handcuffs left, the injection site on his inner arm, a blotchy discolouration spread across his side. He licks his split lip, blinks his bruised eye. All of it, raw discoloured ugly broken weak, torn tissue paper skin,
Footsteps on the stairs.
“I’m changing,” Ren calls. “Gimme a sec.”
More footsteps. A shadow crawls up the stairwell wall by inches, oblong and grotesque, and this goddamn attic doesn’t have a door.
“Wait,” Ren’s voice cracks and he hates it but the footsteps aren’t stopping, “I said wait, I’m changing–”
“It’s only me,” Yusuke says. The shadow stops before the second stair squeaks but Ren watches closely for the slightest movement, swallowing past his racing heart. “Everyone else went home; you and I are the only ones here. May I come up?”
“Just – just give me a second.”
“Very well.”
Ren pulls on his pajama top. Unzips his pants, then pushes them down until he can wiggle out without bending over. Doing is easy. Doing turns his movements robotic and the pain into something he can compartmentalize and shove towards the back of his brain.
He clears his throat. “Morgana’s not with you?”
“No. I asked Boss permission to spend the night–”
“Oh?”
“Yes, to which Morgana said something rather crude about ‘third-wheeling’ and opted out.”
Shallow breaths leave Ren dizzy and nauseous, clutching the shelf for stability, but he closes his eyes and pulls himself back into his body, forces himself to be aware of his two feet on the floor, of every finger, of the hair tickling the bridge of his nose. He pulls his pants on. He straightens up.
“Third-wheeling, huh? You can come up now.”
The stair squeaks and Yusuke appears head and shoulders above the banisters.
“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable,” he says. He reaches up to turn on the light and Ren squints until his eyes adjust. “You nude is nothing I haven’t seen before; I assumed you wouldn’t mind.”
Ren laughs, again. Again, his rib throbs.
“Aw, don’t tease me, I’m shy.”
Yusuke tilts his head. Ren turns away.
“Here, I have pajamas you can borrow.”
With the light on, he finds a second pair in record time, then heads for the bed while Yusuke changes. It isn’t big enough for two but the futon is all the way across the room and more than anything he just wants to sleep. As long as Yusuke doesn’t punch him in the side, it’s not really a big deal.
Ren plays with his bangs, fingers light over the cut on his brow. The light flicks off and he holds the blanket back, letting in cold air until Yusuke fills the space.
“Perhaps I should sleep on the futon,” he says. “One wrong move and I’ll tumble to the floor.”
“Better stay close, then.”
Yusuke smiles. “Of course.”
They move by inches. As if such a bony arm is any good for it, Yusuke pillows Ren’s head. Under the blanket, their hands find each other. Ren laces their fingers together. Yusuke’s leg hooks over his. Inch by inch and it’s all familiar.
The way Yusuke just keeps staring is, too. Ever the artist, taking in the affect others can have on the human body. The details of what a fist can do to the thin skin around an eye, of what bleeding beneath the surface looks like up close. Rib too sore to lay on his side, Ren only has the ceiling and the plastic stars from their trip to the planetarium, when the darkness provided the perfect cover for their first kiss.
Yusuke slides his hand out of Ren’s grip and brushes the hair out of his eyes, letting his hand trail down to stroke his cheek. “What an ugly thing they did to you.”
Ren chews his cheek and stops an eyeroll halfway.
“Hey, what did you say when you asked to stay over?”
“Only that I wished to spend the night.”
“That’s it?”
“Boss seemed rather understanding and asked no questions.”
“Hmm. Understanding of…?”
“Most likely that I want to be with you after being kept apart while fearing for your life. Perhaps that, in the face of all that awaits us, we should take the moments of respite while we can.”
A breath of laughter slips out no matter how Ren tries to stop it. “Wow. Good thing he didn’t ask.”
Yusuke smiles, sliding his thumb along Ren’s bottom lip.
Now, like at the planetarium, like always, his hand is gentle. Featherlight. Crawling. Crawling like spider legs and Ren closes his eyes. Monsters grow ten times their size in the dark but he keeps his eyes shut because monsters aren’t real, monsters don’t lift your chin so kindly; monsters grab your jaw when the drugs they forced into your blood make your head droop and your words slur.
The arm cradling Ren’s head bends at the elbow and drags him in. Holds him there. A mouth touches his, the side that isn’t torn raw, and sucks the air from his lungs.
“I love you,” he hears from far, and he grabs Yusuke’s shirt and drags it closer, parting his lips with the return and a point to prove. Thirdwheeling, Morgana had said, because this is what happens when lovers are reunited.
Yusuke pulls away, a frown creasing his brow.
“Ren, what’s wrong?”
“What? Nothing.”
“You’re shaking.”
He is. He lets out the tension in his shoulders with a slow exhale.
“I’m fine,” Ren says. Yusuke keeps staring, so he laughs and takes his hand again. “Just – be careful when you lean on me. I mean, I’m pretty sure my rib is cracked, so be gent–”
Yusuke backs off, eyes wide. “What?”
“It’s fine, I’m gonna go see Takemi tomorrow while you’re all at school.”
Inch by inch and degree by degree, their body heat builds and Ren’s skin grows clammy. With Yusuke looming over him, arm behind his head, he’s trapped.
He should have gotten the futon out after all.
In the dark Yusuke’s grey eyes are pitch black and all-consuming. They move from Ren’s discolored eye to his split lip and back again. Rather than demurely turn his head, Ren holds his gaze like a challenge.
He grins. “Ugly, isn’t it?”
“No, that isn’t what I – I only meant as a mark of – the ugliness is in those that did this to you, Ren, never you.” Yusuke’s voice resonates against the dead of night. Bass crawls across the back of Ren’s skull, down his spine, inch by inch by inch, and he suppresses a shudder. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Man, you guys were talking so much I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Plus, I mean…” Ren gestures to his face. “Didn’t think I’d have to.”
“There is a large difference between a black eye and a cracked rib.”
“Hmm… is there though?” Ren touches Yusuke’s hand, playing with his fingers. “Either way, it happened. But I guess black eyes look cool. This just makes it hard to breath, and there’s nothing cool about that.”
Yusuke shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Your little comment downstairs? You wanted me to put on a show for you.”
Yusuke sits up, sliding his arm out from under Ren’s head and his hand from his grip. The blanket falls back and cold air flows between them.
“That is not what I meant,” he snaps. “Do you truly think I would take any pleasure in seeing you hurt? I wanted only to witness your moment of triumph.”
Ren shrugs and turns his attention out the window.
“Yeah, well. This is what it looks like.”
He cracks his knuckles one by one.
“Besides, you were right,” he says, “I did laugh. I won. Nothing they did mattered, I won. I went into this knowing the risks, so just… don’t start walking on eggshells like I’m gonna break down or something. I’m fine.”
A pause, then Yusuke sighs. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, turning his back to Ren.
The stars outside aren’t visible. They never are in the city. Back home, there were always stars and when Ren used to stay out late with friends – he never realized how much he used to look up at the stars until he couldn’t anymore.
“The… entire time we were apart,” Yusuke starts slowly, quietly, “I had to cling to the belief that you would make it out. I suppose I was so happy to have you safe, joking the way you always do, that I became selfishly blind. Sometimes my admiration for you gets in the way of seeing things as they are. Quite the trend in my life, it seems.”
Ren twists his index to the side until the knuckle pops. Then his middle finger. His ring finger.
“What’s that supposed to mean? ‘The way things are.’”
“Only that your act is growing stale.”
No stars shine outside the window but the ones Yusuke gave him glow among the rafters, so faint they’re more visible when Ren stares into the space between.
“I apologize for my comment before,” Yusuke continues. “It was insensitive.”
“Well, thanks I guess, but I just said–”
“I know what you said. I said many things as well, when we first met.”
“Not really the same thing.”
“Perhaps.”
Ren’s broken body won’t move the way he wants; he can’t roll over and make a big show of how much he doesn’t care. All he can do is stare at the ceiling and pretend he can’t feel eyes on him.
“I think I will sleep on the futon after all,” Yusuke says, getting to his feet.
Ren sits up, clutching his side at the jolt of pain. “Ah – fuck. What, are you mad?”
“No. You’re injured; I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
Every nerve raw and pulled tight, Ren laughs through grit teeth.
“Then you’re about a day too late.”
The dark isn’t enough to hide the look that gets him. Part of him revels in it. This is drowning and dragging your savior’s offered hand with you because then you’re not only one that goes down. This is the scorpion and the frog because maybe Ren was just a spiteful person all along.
Yusuke turns to fully face him, arms delicately crossed like always, but eyes wild.
“Is that what this is about? You blame us.”
Gradually the pain begins to recede and Ren lets out a shaky breath.
“You’d have to do something wrong for me to blame you. Unanimous decisions, right?”
“Yes, unanimous, and we all did what we could. What happened to you was vile but between that and death, what choice did we have?”
“I know.”
“If there was any other way–”
“I know!”
It echoes off the bare walls and Ren snaps his mouth shut, renewed pain sparking across his side.
“Then… what? Whatever name you would put to it, you clearly harbour resentment, yet you won’t talk to me, you persist with these idiotic jokes and snide remarks.”
“Why’s that a problem now? You only want me all sad when it suits you?”
“That isn’t what I–!”
Yusuke huffs and turns on his heel, wearing his heart so beautifully on his sleeve. Ever calm and composed, Ren breathes the pain out and sits crosslegged, lacing his fingers together. For a moment it looks like Yusuke’s going to storm down the stairs and out of Leblanc; he only gets halfway before turning back.
“You’re right,” Yusuke says, “our situations are not the same. Mine was routine, while yours was a singular, abhorrent violation. And – and I don’t know what I should do, Ren, I have already done irreparable damage. Tell me to leave or let me in but enough of – whatever this is.”
Bruises peek from beneath Ren’s sleeves. He tugs them down and twists his hands together until his skin strains and blood stops flowing, staring until his eyes start to sting and his clenched jaw aches but he won’t blink, won’t stop biting down and trying to be the one to break his own bones.
The ones to blame are the men that laid hands upon him. Shido is to blame for orchestrating it. Akechi is to blame. Not his friends. He knows that. He knows, but everyone looks like an enemy through blackened eyes.
Yusuke sighs and shifts his weight to one leg.
“I know anger, Ren. When I was… roughly thirteen, I started to wake up, and I resented everyone around me for being unable to see the truth. Other kids at school, teachers, the media that praised him. I had to conclude there was nothing to see.
“I don’t want to be that person for you and I’m sorry that I nearly was, but I cannot help unless you let me.”
“Yeah? Then don’t tell anyone,” Ren mutters. “About my rib, they don’t need to know.”
“And how long do you think you can hide a broken bone?”
“The last thing I need is them treating me like a liability.” Ren tears his hands apart and rubs his jaw. “Especially not when we go after the pigs that did this.”
A drunk from outside the bar next door yells something incomprehensible and Ren glances over his shoulder, shaken out of his own little world. All at once, sound floods in – ambient traffic and a fire truck in the distance – until Yusuke’s voice brings him back.
“You intend to change their hearts?”
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”
Floorboards squeak and Yusuke makes his way back to the bed to take a seat on the edge. The streetlight illuminates his back, shining gently on his hair, and Ren leans forward, resting his chin on his hand.
“Am I wrong? We’ve punished lesser crimes.”
Bargoers jeer at the drunk, their laughter as loud on a Monday night as it always is on Fridays. Argument upon argument builds on Ren’s tongue, waiting only for a refusal; ever since the first blow, he knew what needs to be done. What never occurred to him is that anyone would disagree.
“You’re not wrong.” Yusuke glances over his shoulder, only one eye visible through his bangs. “Men like them deserve no less.”
Ren stares, waiting for the but. Yusuke only stares back.
“Exactly,” Ren mutters. He lays back down and drapes his arm over his eyes. Obviously Yusuke would agree; it’s the right thing to do. It’s what they do. “So don’t tell anyone about my rib.”
“I said I have no qualms about going after corrupt men; I said nothing about standing by and watching you injure yourself.”
“C’mon, don’t tell me the plan was to throw me to the wolves but we didn’t have anything for when I get mauled. Takemi will have something, plus I’ve got my Personas – which you need. We’re going after Shido either way. Or do I just sit at home while you guys take care of it?”
If Ren hadn’t been straining his ear for the slightest resistance, he wouldn’t have heard the sigh Yusuke lets slip.
Under the blanket, his hand works its way up his shirt and to his side, fingers so light they would have tickled if they weren’t his own. It feels normal. There’s no bone jutting out wrong, just the high-pitched twinge of a bruise. But he takes a slow, deep breath, ribs moving to accommodate his lungs, and the pain flares again. He does it a second time, squeezing his eyes shut, and focuses on the sensation. A red tangle of static in a black void.
The mattress moves and he hears his name spoken so gently he wants to tear it to shreds. No hand pulls his arm away from his eyes. It’s up to him to lower it.
Yusuke gazes down at him, brow creased and mouth pulled tight. He reaches for Ren’s face but pauses.
“May I?”
Ren nods and Yusuke brushes the hair off his forehead.
“Your hands are always so cold,” Ren whines.
“I keep thinking about Nakanohara and the others.”
“Oh. Romantic.”
Yusuke scoffs. “You bounce back rather quickly.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“Hmm…”
Fingers slide down Ren’s cheek but this time he keeps his gaze firmly on Yusuke’s. Challenging him, challenging himself, challenging the ghosts with needles in his peripheral. Beneath the blanket, he moves his unbound hand. The scent of coffee fills every breath, coming from the bags of beans he knows are just over by the stairwell. He knows this room better than the back of his hand. He knows the hand stroking his cheek.
“Our situations aren’t the same,” Yusuke says, “but I keep thinking about what I can do for you, and what I may have wanted after – during particularly rough nights. And that’s when my thoughts turn to Madarame’s other students.”
The plastic stars above, the sounds of the alleyway outside, and Ren leans into Yusuke’s cold, dry hand. Against the heat building beneath the blanket, it’s a little refreshing. A little grounding.
“Ultimately, they were frightened children dealing with the same thing I was,” Yusuke’s fingers trail along Ren’s jaw, to his ear, “or not dealing, as the case may be. Though there were never any special words, I find myself remembering simply that they were with me. That until they saved themselves, I wasn’t alone.”
“Did you resent them when they did?”
“For a while, yes,” Yusuke murmurs. “Selfish, aren’t I?”
Ren shakes his head. From his ear down his neck, Yusuke’s fingers trace his collarbone. They stop over his heart and Ren curls his fingers around Yusuke’s wrist.
“Does that mean you’re with me?”
Under a flat and pressing palm, he wonders if heartbeat can be felt. In his certainty about what needs to be done, it’s slow and steady as ever. No anxiety, no doubt. He’s in control like he always is.
Yusuke lifts his chin and gazes down his nose. Hair blocks the light from the window, casting his face into shadow, until he lets out a single humorless laugh and tilts his head.
“Your light is becoming rather like flames,” he says with a wry smile. “We need to see the corrupt brought to justice before they can harm anyone else. And more than that, if indeed any blame does lie with me, I would see it put right. I’m with you, Ren.”